Archer
“Is this really the best place for us to grab a drink?” Bly asks. As always, he’s his usual grumpy self.
Oak nods. “It’s a little loud.”
I shake my head. “Sorry grandpa, but this is the hottest place in town.”
“In case you forgot, we’re professors at a nearby school, not frat boys,” Oak says.
I laugh. “Both of you need to lighten up.” I shake my head and make my way toward the bar. “It’s not like we’ll run into any of our students.” A lie if ever I told one. The sole reason I brought my two best friends here is because I know a group of academy kids are coming here tonight. I also know that Adrianna should be with them.
“Usual?” I ask Oak.
“Yeah, whiskey, neat.”
“Never can change it up, can you?”
Oak looks irritated. “Why should I? I like whiskey.”
I order our drinks and get cash out to pay, but Oak stops me. “Put it on a tab.” He passes the bartender his credit card.
My brow furrows. “Why didn’t you let me pay?”
He arches a brow. “You know I’m loaded. And I know what you earn, considering I pay your wages.”
Bly clears his throat. “Lets find a booth, preferably somewhere we don’t have to shout to hear each other,”
Oak spots one. “Over there.”
Bly leads the way, literally bombarding through students as if he’s wading through a jungle and pushing aside overgrowth.
“Agreed,” I hear Oak say as I get to the table.
“What did you agree to?” I ask, sitting on the opposite side of the booth.
“That this is the last time you choose where we go for a night out.” Oak glares at me.
“Both of you need to chill.” The only reason I chose this shithole is because of a certain Mexican beauty who is somewhere here right now, but I’ve yet to spot her.
Oak is looking contemplative, even though he’s here to unwind. “Hey, you are here to unwind and not think.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Stop thinking about the Carmichael girl!”
“Eva?” Bly asks, sound surprised. Oops, turns out it wasn’t common knowledge that Oak has the hots for the girl he wanted to ruin to get revenge on her parents.
“Yeah, it seems the girl I intend to ruin to get to her parents is irresistible,” Oak replies.
Bly laughs. “She’s cute, for sure, but I wouldn’t have expected her to be your type.”
Oak’s eyes darken as he straightens. “And what exactly do you think my type would be?”
Bly rubs the back of his neck. “Older than twenty-one.” He glances at Archer. “Clearly, my two closest friends are perverts.”
I hold a hand to my chest. “How dare you?”
“It’s true.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never found a student attractive?” Oak questions.
Bly takes a little too long to reply, making me think that he has found a student attractive. “No, they’re all too young, too immature.”
“I thought that too,” Oak mutters.
“Has anything happened between you two?” I ask.
Oak’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I kissed her in my office.”
Bly basically chokes on his vodka, but I’m not surprised. Oak has had it bad for her since the moment she stepped onto campus.
“You did what?” Bly shakes his head. “I thought you want to ruin her family. How does that work if you ruin yourself as well?”
“Hence why I called off all of our one-on-one discipline classes and chucked her out of my office,” he replies.
“Sounds like you did one thing right,” Bly says.
Bly is wrong in my opinion. If you are that drawn to someone, then fuck rules and appearances. I’m not so sure, actually.
“It’s clear that you like her, so why don’t you just be the one to ruin her reputation?” I tilt my head to the side slightly, wondering if what I’m about to say could be true. “Or is it because you actually care for her?”
“Perhaps.” He shrugs. “I’m not sure. All I know is she’s not what I expected. She’s not a spoiled mafia princess.” He inhales deeply. “She’s nothing like them.”
“Are you forgetting what her parents took from you?” Blaine asks. The anger in his tone is clear as day.
Oak knocks back the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass down. “Enough of this. I agreed to come out because I want to forget about it, not talk about it.” I wave a server over and she takes my order for another round. “Let’s get drunk and forget about the Carmichaels.”
Bly doesn’t let up, watching Oak over the rim of his glass.
I nod, downing my drink. “Here, here.” I smile at Oak. “Let’s get drunk.”
Finally, Bly relaxes. “Sounds good to me.” He polishes off the rest of his vodka, just as the next round arrives.
Oak stops the server before she leaves. “Keep them coming, every twenty minutes, and put them on my tab.” He hands her a fifty-dollar bill.
Oak is loaded because of the insurance pay out on the fire at his company’s premises. I glance around the bar, trying to find any signs of the students.
“I’m going to dance,” I say, hoping I’ll get a better view from the dancefloor.
“Have fun,” Bly says, sarcastic as ever.