Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(11)



Professor Sweet plants her fists on her desk. Her right eye twitches. “Is this some sort of backwards blackmail because you refuse to take responsibility for your lack of effort?” she growls.

I bet angry sex with her would be amazing.

I shake my head. “Of course not, Professor Sweet. I’m just explaining—”

“Explaining what, exactly? That your father’s donation should excuse you from following the rules like everyone else? You’re a fourth-year student in a second-year class. You know what the expectations are. Maybe your other professors let you get away with this kind of laxness, but I’m certainly not one of them. You are skating the edge, Mr. Waters, and I will not be giving you a passing grade if you haven’t earned it. And you certainly have not earned it thus far. Now, unless you’d like me to report you to the dean for trying to blackmail your way to a passing grade, I suggest you put in the time and earn the grades you’re capable of. If you would like to resubmit your piece with the minimum required word count, you’re free to do so. However, you will be penalized for handing it in late. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things that need my attention.” She shoves her folder into her ancient bag and slings it over her shoulder. Then she spins on her heel—she’s wearing flats—and storms out of the room.

That did not go nearly as well as I’d planned.





I check my phone on the way out of the building, and of course, because this day isn’t already a giant shitstorm, I have messages from one of the guys on the team saying he’s at the pub and Carly is there, asking about me. I semi-hooked up with her early in the semester. Mostly as a way to get Clover out of my head. Not realizing that she would end up taking permanent residence in my brain by becoming my professor.

Since then, I’ve been trying to shake Carly, and I thought things were good—she’s stopped showing up at parties, like she did at the beginning of the semester—but evidently, she’s still going to be a challenge.

Going home or to the pub means the possibility of running into people I don’t want to see. Home will have my family and Kody. It’s not that I don’t like my family, or my best friend. I need to get in a better headspace before I deal with them, though. Now that Lavender and Kody have sorted themselves, they’re perpetually all cozy-cozy, and it’s awkward. As much as I’d been waiting for them to figure their shit out, I’m finding I don’t like the way it changes the dynamic.

So I go to the school’s athletic facility instead. I don’t want to risk running into my teammates and getting sucked into a conversation about our upcoming game. So I avoid the facilities dedicated to division one athletes, in lieu of the regular gym where the normal students work out.

On the way, I call my dad, who has texted a bunch of times. Apparently, the coach from Nashville called my coach, which isn’t unusual. They’re always checking on their investments, but it sucks that my dad is actually friends with Nashville’s coach, and that means there are conversations being had. My dad is going to be relentless about messaging me until I answer.

“What’s this I’m hearing about you being late for practice and distracted again?” is his greeting.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” It sounds like lip service, even to me.

His silence makes me want to fill the space, but I bite my tongue.

“Please tell me you weren’t late for practice because of woman problems.”

I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or frustration in his voice. Or both. “I’m not dating anyone. I’m focused on getting to the end of the year and being called up.”

What else can I tell him? That I’m back to following his advice to remain uncommitted until my career is sorted out? For a few weeks, I needed the distraction from being stuck up in my head, and Carly seemed like a good way to do that. Except that backfired on me in spectacular fashion.

As soon as Clover took over as my professor, I officially went on a total dating hiatus. It needed to happen anyway. I’ve spent most of my college career making sure I don’t get attached to anyone so I don’t have to worry about things like breakups.

For someone who has involved parents, a financially easy ride, and hasn’t had to work particularly hard for anything in my life—apart from hockey—I’m kind of a hot mess.

“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe a girlfriend wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he muses.

“Are you serious?” I cannot believe these words are coming out of my dad’s mouth. “Girlfriends are drama and energy. I don’t have time for that.”

“I played my best hockey after I met your mother.”

“Yeah, but as you’ve told me probably a thousand times, you also met Mom when you were done with college and so was she. The whole point of waiting until I’m in the NHL to settle down is so I don’t end up meeting someone and get all attached and then have to get over it when the long distance is too hard.”

I don’t even want to think about what it’s going to look like in June when Kody gets called up and might move to Vancouver, which would take him away from my sister. Again.

He sighs. “I don’t want you to do something that’s going to have a negative impact on your future aspirations, son. You’re smart and talented. You have a lot going for you, and you’re almost where you want to be.”

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