To Professor, with Love (Forbidden Men #2)

I groaned, completely having forgotten what day it was. Every Thursday was ladies’ night at Forbidden, the bar where both Ten and I worked. That meant only the male employees had to clock in, and since all five of us guys were bartenders, some of us had to switch over and play waiter for the evening.

My tips went through the roof when I waited tables on ladies’ night, but damn, drunk women could get freaking frisky. Not that I didn’t mind a little grab-ass from a table full of cute co-eds. But after a couple hours of it, my butt cheeks grew chaffed.

And that was only from the women who went for the back door. I’d taken to wearing a cup a couple months back due to all the hungry hands grabbing my junk.

Yeah, it was that insane.

An hour later, I was following Ten out the door, decked out in a tight black T-shirt and blue jeans, which was the regulation uniform for the men of Forbidden. Since I didn’t own my own set of wheels, I climbed into the passenger seat of Ten’s truck as he slid behind the wheel.

Five minutes later, we parked across the street from the nightclub and took a minute to stare at the quiet building before slipping out of the truck. In an hour, the place would be banging, and the peace we had now would be no more. But...it paid the bills and helped me send home some extra funds to Caroline so she could pay those bills too.

“You ready for this?” I asked, pushing open my door.

Ten snickered. “I was born ready, motherfucker.” As he followed me to the front door, I shook my head, wondering if he’d ever not been able to come up with some politically incorrect answer to any question a person asked him.

After unlocking the door and slipping inside, I glanced around the interior for the other three guys who were supposed to work tonight.

“Where is everyone?” Ten and I were rarely the first to arrive, and we weren’t even running early.

“Well, Pick’s always late,” Ten said, taking a chair off the first table he saw and tucking it upright underneath. “And the twins are...” He glanced around and scratched his head. “Huh. The twins are never late. Where the fuck are the twins?”

As if answering his question, the door to the manager’s office opened, and the owner of Forbidden’s oldest daughter, Jessie, strolled out followed by a stranger—a dark-haired guy, my age, about the same height and size...which could mean only one thing.

New employee. One of my coworkers must’ve quit.

“Fuck,” Ten growled, mirroring my thoughts, before he lifted his voice and called across the empty bar. “Yo, Jess. Where’s Huey and Louie?” The twins were actually named Heath and Landon, but Ten tended to assign everyone his own nickname.

Jess had never been an Oren Tenning fan, so she narrowed him a harsh glower. “Where do you think? They quit. Probably didn’t want to work with your punk ass anymore. Here’s his replacement. Someone show him what to do.”

With that, she turned away and started back into the office.

“Hey,” Ten called after her. “What about the other one?”

Jessie paused and glanced back to arch one intimidating eyebrow. “Other one what?”

“This place is going to be overrun within an hour, woman. We need at least five guys working tonight, not three and some clueless newbie. Are you seriously just going to replace both the twins with this one douche?”

The clueless newbie douche in question sent him a sidelong look that seemed more amused than insulted by the remark while Jess hissed with aggravation.

“Yeah, I am. So show him what to do.” With that, she slammed back into her office, leaving the three of us alone in the bar.

“She totally wants me.” Ten sniffed knowingly at the closed door, while I sighed and set my hands on my hips, taking in the new guy.

God, I couldn’t wait until Jess’s dad returned to work. He’d recently had open-heart surgery, and she’d taken over while he was down. But if he didn’t hurry his ass up and recover soon, his precious baby girl was going to run his nightclub into the ground.

Tipping my head up in greeting, I said, “Hey. What’s your name?”

The new guy shoved his hands into his back pockets and tore his attention away from Ten to glance my way. “Mason,” he said. “Mason Lowe.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you. You ever bartend before?”

When Lowe shook his head, Ten snorted and slapped me in the stomach. “He’s all yours, baby.” Dismissing us both, he returned to his job of taking the chairs off the tables.

“Fine,” I called. “We get the bar then; you wait tables.”

“What the fuck ever. Make the new guy wait tables.”

“Shit, you want him to quit on his first night?”

Ten paused to study Lowe from head to foot. Then he nodded. “Yeah, with a pretty face like his, he’d be molested beyond repair within the first five minutes. I’ll take the tables. But just for tonight.” He pointed threateningly at Lowe. “You got that, newbie?”

Lowe was beginning to look a little alarmed. “What’s he talking about? I thought this was just a regular bar.”