To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)

But that wasn’t going to happen, so I just kept doing all the shit I really didn’t care about anymore.

With my bag full of exercise clothes to change into slung heavily over my shoulder, I trudged into the university’s sports complex for my crack-of-mother-fucking-dawn weight training. Yawning, I rubbed my hand over my jaw. I hadn’t shaved in days and winced at the pull of sore muscles.

I’d just turned down the hall toward the locker room when someone from behind me called my name frantically. Glancing around, I found both Ten and Hamilton skidding around the corner and racing toward me.

Frowning, I asked, “What the hell are you doing here for morning training?” Ten only trained in the evening or not at all. He refused to even pretend to be a morning person.

“Ham called me.” Breathless as he reached me, he grabbed my arm and yanked me in the opposite direction of the locker room. “Man, you need to come with us. Right now.”

Not used to my best friend acting so agitated, I glanced toward Hamilton. But he looked as if he might shit his pants any second. Unease stirred within me.

I resisted Ten’s pull. “What’s going on?”

“Just...” Ten yanked me along, none too gently. “Come on.”

They led me to a bathroom. As Ten ducked down to check that all the stalls were empty, Quinn folded his arms and braced his back against the door so no one else could enter. Their behavior made it seem like they were preparing to kick my ass or something. And if I didn’t know any better and trust these guys with some of the biggest secrets of my life, I might have been worried.

But then it struck me; they were the only two guys on the team who did know my one big secret. Acid filled my stomach, sharp and painful.

I nearly bent over double as I blew out a shuddery breath. My gym bag slid off my shoulder and slapped to the floor. “Aspen?” I said, knowing this couldn’t be about anything else.

Ten straightened from the last stall and stared at me for a moment before he said, “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” I clenched my eyes shut and rested my hands on my knees as I concentrated on not getting sick all over the place. But, “Shit. How bad is it?”

After a small groan, Ten admitted, “It’s pretty bad.”

I looked up and stared at him. When he didn’t say anything, I glanced toward Hamilton. He’d gone white, but nodded, agreeing with Ten.

It was bad.

“Well?” I demanded, my voice raspy with fear. “What happened?”

“Shit, man.” Ten set his hands on his hips and looked away. “Someone took a picture of you two together.”

“A picture,” I repeated. “What kind of picture?”

“What the hell kind do you think? You guys were fucking.”

I nearly blacked out. Reaching for the wall to steady myself, I held on for dear life as Ten kept talking.

“But at least now I know she doesn’t have pierced nipples.”

“What?” Heat suffused my face.

Seeing I had on my you-must-die face, he lurched backward and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just...calm down. Gamble!”

My breathing went erratic as I fisted my hands at my sides. “Where is this picture? What exactly does it show?”

“That’s about it. I mean, just her top half. It was night, pretty dark and she was in the front seat of some car. Her head was thrown back and her tits were stuck out like she was in the middle of coming. You were cut out completely, except for your arm.” He glanced at my arm. “And your tattoo.”

“Oh, God.” Someone had seen us that night? Taken pictures? Who would dare... Why would anyone... “Christ.” I stared at Ten from what felt like bloodshot eyes. “How the hell do you know about such a picture? Did you see it? Who took it? Where—”

“Coach hung it on the board in the middle of the locker room. Everyone has seen it.”

“What!” It was just hanging out in public for everyone to see Aspen in her moment of glory? No fucking way. I spun toward the doorway and charged. I knew Hamilton was still bracing the door shut, but that didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t on the team because I was afraid of being tackled.

His eyes widened, but he seemed to prepare himself for my attack. Damn fucking football player. I didn’t let him down, bowing my head and charging with my shoulder.

Ten shouted my name and crashed into me from behind as I rammed Hamilton hard, causing him to grunt out a whoosh of air.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ten tried to ask between curses as he and Quinn wrestled me to the ground and pinned me down.

I bucked under them, flailing and roaring out my rage. “I’m getting that picture.”

My roommate sat on my back and Quinn contained my legs. “Are you insane? Coach put it up to get a reaction out of someone. Out of you. You can’t go tearing in there and—”

“I need it down,” I ground out. “Motherfucker, how dare he? How dare he do that to her? I need that picture ripped down.”