steven
Friday evening, I sat back on the suede couch at Radiant with Michelle and Hector and rested one ankle on the opposite bouncing knee. I sipped on my wine and clicked my tongue against the top of my mouth, wishing Sierra would walk right into the club tonight.
While I didn’t keep up with Sierra’s social life—because why would I? She was my student and nothing more than that—the thought of her being at a frat party with handsy college-aged guys made my blood fucking boil.
“So,” Michelle hummed, sipping her wine, “how is your class?”
“Good.”
“Class?” Hector asked. “You’re teaching?”
“Sex Ed,” I said, cutting my gaze to Michelle. “Someone roped me into it.”
“I did no such thing,” she said, eyeing a regular at the wraparound bar. “It’s just good?”
“Just good.”
“I’ve seen you a few times with one of your students,” she noted, sipping on her wine and smirking at me. “What was her name again? Sierra, was it? How is she doing in class? Acing all your demonstrations?”
“Michelle,” I growled in warning, “she’s my student.”
“Your student who”—she peered across the room in thought—“you haven’t seen in five days now. It’s been a long week for you, hasn’t it? Is that why you’ve been an antsy, cranky, moody mess?”
“I have not been moody,” I snapped and then immediately realized how moody that sounded. I took another sip of my drink and glanced away from the small group, gazing distantly at the occupied dancing poles. “I’m stressed from work.”
“So, she has nothing to do with it?”
“No,” I growled, attempting to find some excitement in watching the women dance.
But when I was into someone, I was fucking into them. No one else mattered to me. Not some swanky, naked women shaking their asses around poles for male enjoyment. I found no enjoyment in that. Absolutely fucking zero.
Hector gazed down at his watch and stood. “Well, I have a meeting to get to.” He slapped me on the shoulder and leaned toward me. “Don’t let her push you around. I have dirt on her, if you’d like to use it.”
“What kind of dirt?” I asked, arching a brow.
“Get out of here,” Michelle said, shooing him away. “You have nothing on me.”
With a drink in his hand, Hector smirked and disappeared through the crowd. I blew out a breath and rested my head back onto the couch, closing my eyes. While I wanted to leave, too, and throw myself into work, I didn’t want to go back to the office and stare at numbers for Radiant.
Maybe I’d take a stroll through Robinson’s Giant Eagle Market District to see the hype.
“If Sierra doesn’t have anything to do with your mood, then you wouldn’t mind if …” She glanced toward the bar, locked eyes with one of the dancers, and beckoned her to come to us. “Frazzy!”
“What are you doing?” I asked between gritted teeth.
“Helping you out,” she hummed. “A girl will do you good.”
“No,” I growled.
“Frazzy, come here!” Michelle called over the music.
Frazzy sauntered over to us without clothes, swaying her hips back and forth and grabbing a wineglass from a waiter on her way over to the couches. I balled my hand into a fist and laid it on my thigh, glaring at Michelle.
I didn’t want her to know that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sierra since Monday night, so I stayed glued to the spot and dared her to continue on with her little prank or joke or whatever the fuck she had been plotting.
Because she wouldn’t.
“Hi, Steven,” Frazzy purred, standing beside the couch and sipping her wine.
Narrowing my eyes at my sister, I didn’t even want to look up at Frazzy. I had known her for almost a decade now, and I had never been interested in her even though she couldn’t seem to stay away from me and made it a point to be here whenever I was.
“Loosen up,” she said, walking behind the couch and setting her hands on my shoulders.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growled, sitting up and shuffling to the other end of the couch.
“But you’re always so—”
When she went to place her hands on me again, I stood up. “I’m not fucking doing this.”
“Does this mean that I win?” Michelle giggled.
“Piss off,” I snarled, storming out of the room.
I grabbed my coat from Radiant’s coatroom, barely shrugged it on before I slipped out a back door, and headed straight for my car. This stress had been from work, not from not seeing Sierra. She was a student who needed my help.
Nothing more.
But the thought of her wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.
Deciding that I needed to turn in for the night, I headed back to my place, parked in the garage, and walked through the lobby, straight for the elevators. I couldn’t fucking believe Michelle.
After running my hand over my face, I tapped the elevator button and ran my tongue across the front of my teeth. I didn’t want to wait until Monday. I had gone five long days without seeing her and had no excuse to invite her back to the club for a punishment or another class.
But when the doors opened, I stared at Sierra Monroe, holding a box of Swirl Scoops Ice Cream.