Free Commencement by Alexis Adare Page B

back on the floor before he trapped both my wrists behind me with one of his meaty paws and whipped me around till I lay half over one of his shoulders. My dress rode up, exposing my G-string-covered backside to the companions at his table.
    “Alright!” one of them crowed. “Now let’s really have some fun!”
    A hand came down on my ass with a crack.
    Oh no he didn’t. I kicked my legs, knees pummeling the chest beneath me and lifted my head to shout for Parker. The spotlight caught the Professor again, but he was no longer in shadow. He raced towards me now, long determined strides that swerved effortlessly around obstacles. Anger thundered across his face. I opened my mouth to call to him, to say what, I had no idea, just as I saw Parker come up from the right, barreling towards me with Sasha on his heels.
    “You’re out!” Parker shouted, dragging the guy physically off of his chair as he pried me free and pushed me into Sasha’s arms. She tucked me behind her protectively, and I peered around her looking for the Professor. He was just a few feet away, standing in the shadows again, his fists clenched hard, his jaw harder.
    “Thank you, I’m okay,” I mouthed at him. He nodded once, and turned back towards his table.
    “Your man is here,” Sasha said, her eyes flitting to where the Professor sat in the dark as she took my hand and escorted me behind the stage, back to the dressing room.
    “Looks like it.”
    “Protective.”
    “He almost got here before Parker,” I said.
    “That was my fault,” she said, frowning at me. “I was distracting him. I’m so sorry. You okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.” I nodded and smoothed my hands down the front of my apron. “We’ve had worse than that guy.”
    “Still, this crowd is getting on my nerves. I’m going to let the Specials finish out what’s left of the night. You go. Let your Professor take you home.”
----
    I ’d lied to Sasha , I wasn’t fine. The incident with Whiskey Breath hadn’t shaken me much—he was hardly the worst encounter I’ve ever had with a customer. That kind of crap, it goes with the job, even at a classy club like Clouds. What had shaken me was seeing the Professor in the club. We hadn’t spoken all week, and the last time we had, things had been odd. I had argued vehemently with both Mom and Charlie that the Professor and I were not in a relationship. But I realized, when I saw his face in the darkness of the club, saw his beautiful features light up with anger, that maybe we kind of were. I had hoped earlier in the evening that he might show up, and yet when he did, it felt strange having him there, like I’d been caught cheating on a boyfriend. I felt titillated and embarrassed all at the same time, and from the look on his face he was pretty conflicted about it too. Granted I was being molested by a customer at the time. But still.
    When I walked out of the dressing room, he was waiting for me, hands stuffed into his trousers, brow furrowed, a scarf bundled around his neck, and resting against the wall like the hero from a golden age Hollywood film.
    “Hey,” I said lamely, shifting my suitcase to sit upright beside me.
    “Hello,” he said in a tone so deep and heavy a single syllable felt like a paragraph.
    “Um,” I stammered. “I just wonder, do you think, maybe we should talk about like, just some…like is me dancing, is that okay with you?”
    “Later.”
    Shit.
    “Okay. Take me home?” I asked hopefully.
    “Absolutely.” He took my suitcase from me and we walked down the back corridor to the parking lot.
    “I’m just up the street from here,” I said. “So I can walk back in the morning and get my car easily. I just think, after tonight’s…excitement, it would be nice to have an escort home.”
    “I agree,” he said over his shoulder. “Although I wouldn’t have described it as exciting.” He pushed through the exit door at the back of the club and led me around the side of the building to