Read Online Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) by Claire Adams - Free Book Online Page A

down on
his ass.
    He
laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I give. How about
you let me walk you home?"
    The
right hook I had cocked and ready itched to knock him down as soon as he got to
his feet, but, again, Clarity took care of it.
    "Best
stick around here and sober up," she said. Clarity spun on her heel and
marched towards me.
    I
lowered my fist just in time.
    "Ford?
I mean, Professor Bauer?" She skidded to a halt in the shadowed hallway.
    "Your
father asked me to check in on the party. He's out in the backyard." I
hoped Dean Dunkirk would understand me ratting him out so fast.
    If
the flashing look in Clarity's green eyes was any indication, then the dean
would understand perfectly. I backed up against the wall and left the hallway
open for her to pass.
    She
glanced back over her shoulder where Adam was laughing and giving high-fives to
his friends. "Dating is the worst. Especially trying to date college
guys."
    I
let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "My sister, Liz, says the
exact same thing. Which is good, because I told her I would stop paying her
rent if she skips class for a boy. She's med school and better stay
focused."
    Clarity
stepped closer to me. "Is that why you're teaching instead of chasing
after big stories? You're supporting your little sister?"
    "How
about I walk you home?" I said.
    She
smiled. "Thanks, but, like you said, my father's outside. It was nice of
you to help him out."
    I
nodded and didn't trust myself to say anything else. There was no reason for me
to feel so relieved knowing that Clarity had turned down the football player
and would be heading home safe.  
     

 
     

 
     
     
     

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    CHAPTER
FIVE
    Clarity

 
    The shuffle of the Sunday
newspaper was always relaxing. My father and I spent Sunday mornings at the
wide kitchen table in front of the French doors. Morning light poured in and
caught the swirls of steam rising from our coffee mugs.
    I
loved the quiet routine. Except my eyes wouldn't focus on any words and I
burned my lips on my coffee. My mind kept wandering back over the moonlit
campus walk with Ford. As soon as we stepped out of the frat house party, my
father had jogged up with a breathless frown.
    "A
group of streakers is causing havoc outside the gym complex and I have to go
deal with it."
    "There's
a great article in there somewhere," Ford nudged me.
    "Professor
Bauer will see you home safe, won't you?" My father had waved as security
swung by in a truck to pick him up.
    Neither
of us had said a word until the full moon climbed up and over the corner towers
of the library.
    Ford
sighed. "I do actually like it here. I know you think I should be off
chasing big stories and being a hard-hitting journalist, but it's peaceful
here. Beautiful."
    Our
hands had brushed at that moment and the memory alone caused a thrill to rush
up my arm. I had to be a silly, delusional girl to think that last, whispered
'beautiful' was for me, but I couldn't help it. We were impossible, never going
to happen, but at least I could hope he felt the same way I did.
    My
growing attraction to Ford was a problem. It was fine when it was just a crush
on an attractive professor, but now it was pluming out like smoke and hanging
like a deep haze on the majority of my thoughts.
    "Clarity?
Your toast popped up," my father repeated. He folded down one corner of
his newspaper and checked on me. "Everything alright?"
    I
looked around the sunny kitchen and took a deep breath. Most of my friends made
fun of me for living at home until they saw our house. The Craftsman was big,
comfortable, and full of light. The original hardwood floors and crown moldings
gave it a sense of maturity while my father's tendency towards bright colors
kept it lively and fun.
    "You
know it's alright if you want to go out with your friends on Sundays," my
father said. He poured himself another cup of coffee from the French Press on
the