Educating the Professor Page 3

  “Well, then, let’s go. My hours are posted if you need me in here, but my phone is the way to get me normally.” Kenn stood up and led him out, then locked the door behind them.

  Dave grabbed Kenn’s hand, linking their fingers together. Kenn gave him a shocked look but didn’t pull away.

  Smiling, he led them outside, not letting go. Kenn’s hand felt damn good in his.

  “So, we’re getting close to my place, believe it or not.” Kenn pointed to this huge, weird rambling house.

  “You said it was tiny!” This wasn’t anywhere near small.

  “What?” Kenn looked utterly confused.

  “Your place. You said it was small. This is, like, the polar opposite.”

  “Ah.” Kenn began to chuckle softly. “Come inside, and all will be revealed.”

  He was being invited in. Score. “Cool.”

  Kenn unlocked the front door, and suddenly he got it. There were six mailboxes, a long hall, and stairs leading up. “Oh God. Six apartments?”

  “Six apartments.”

  “Now it makes sense.” He followed Kenn up a staircase that had clearly been a grand thing when the house was just a house.

  “I’m up here to the left. I didn’t know I’d have company, so excuse the mess.”

  The mess? The apartment was neat as a pin, books stacked floor to ceiling, the bed made. The only thing out of place was the coffee cup on the table.

  “It’s adorable. Really.” He could see Kenn being comfortable here, happy. His bolt-hole, his safe place. David was honored to have been allowed in.

  “Thank you. Have a seat, and I’ll turn on some lights. Would you like something to drink?” Kenn motioned to an amazing overstuffed armchair upholstered in this insane rainbow fabric.

  “Some water would be nice.” He sat, the chair so comfortable. “I bet you sleep in this a lot.” He could totally picture Kenn curled up, dozing over a book.

  “I do. It’s a great chair.”

  The light in the kitchen came on, and he got a glimpse of the room—clean and neat but tiny, with a half-sized refrigerator.

  The studio was small, compact, but it totally suited Kenn. “I like it. The whole place.”

  “Thanks. It’s miniscule, but you can’t beat the location. Tim lives next door.”

  “I assume his place is just as tiny?” He was trying to decide if he would rather live in such a small place or share like he did.

  “They’re all exactly the same, really. Except I have a balcony, and he has a washer and dryer.”

  “So you guys share.” He didn’t need Kenn’s nod to confirm it—he just knew.

  Kenn brought over the water, and he deliberately slid their fingers together as he accepted the glass, biting back his moan at the tingling sensations. Kenn licked his lips, eyes moving over him, drinking him in.

  Dave didn’t vamp or lick his own lips or anything. He was himself, knowing that was what was going to win Kenn over, and he was proved right when Kenn shook himself and turned to sit on one of the two dining chairs.

  “There might be enough room for us to share this chair. Then you’d be on a comfortable seat.” He gave Kenn his best innocent look, but he bet Kenn knew as well as he did that innocent was the last thing he was.

  “It’s not that big, but thanks for the offer.”

  “Anytime.” He meant it too. His lap would love to double as a chair for Kenn. The thought had him grinning, beaming at Kenn.

  “I think you’re the first guy I’ve had in here who wasn’t Tim. We tend to have any parties in the common room downstairs.”

  “You’d kind of have to have them somewhere else. It feels cozy with the two of us—too many more and it would feel crowded.” He loved knowing that he was the only other person aside from Kenn’s best friend who’d seen the place, who’d had the privilege.

  “Exactly. Two isn’t too bad, but a dinner party is excessive. The common room is nice, and so far all the tenants have been exceptional.”

  “Are you all part of the queer community?” Dave imagined that would make getting along easier.

  “It’s not a requirement, of course, but yes.” Kenn leaned back, stretching tall. “There are six apartments and the common area. Tim is next door. Jean and Beth are downstairs—they have two apartments, and they sleep in one and use the other as a living room. Doug lives downstairs too. He’s the owner. Sweet kid who inherited the property. The other upstairs unit is empty.”

  Interesting. Especially if it turned out he needed the privacy that the setup where he was didn’t afford.

  “Is it as big as this one?” he teased. He wanted to know, though, how big it was. Just in case.

  “Bigger, actually. It’s got two rooms. I would have rented it, but it was occupied when I moved in, and now….” Kenn shrugged, eyes lit up and dancing. “Look at all these books. Who would want to move them?”

  “They’d definitely be a pain in the ass, but I bet you’d find people willing to help. For the right incentive.” He looked around again, taking it all in. “This suits you, though. Feels like you belong here.”

  Kenn nodded, and the sweet smile grew. “I like it. I’m happy here, and that’s something to hold on to.”

  “Absolutely. Have you got a TV?” Dave looked around. He loved snuggling in front of the television.

  “I don’t. I watch everything on my laptop or my iPad. I keep talking about buying a smart TV, but I don’t know where I’d put it.”

  “We have a huge shared one at the house. But I have a decent-sized one in the bedroom. I like being able to laze while I watch.” He could picture him and Kenn nestled together in front of some show or other. It was kind of a test—if he could cuddle and watch with someone, they were good.

  “So how does your situation work?” Kenn asked.

  “There’s four bedrooms upstairs along with a bathroom that we share. There’s a master bath too, in Jenny’s room. If we’re in a bind, she’s pretty good about letting us pop in. Then downstairs is a huge kitchen and a living room, along with two small rooms that are set up as offices so we can study or work or whatever. We share rent and utilities and stuff.”

  “Very cool. I’m afraid that I’m too much of an introvert for that situation. It sounds fun, though.”

  “It was the most room for the money. I saw a few apartments that were smaller than this for more money than the house was. I mean, I want more than a fridge and a hotpot and a bathroom I can’t even stand up in.”

  “I can understand that, David. I’m a bit of a privacy whore.”

  What an interesting way to put it.

  “And you’ve let me invade your privacy. Thank you.” The truth was, he’d spent the whole evening with Kenn, and now he wanted to invade a lot more than the man’s privacy.

  Still, Kenn seemed different, special enough to take his time with. He didn’t want to leave yet, though. He wanted to stay and spend more time with this intriguing guy.

  “What’s your favorite thing about teaching?”

  “Seeing someone figure out that history isn’t just dates and names that you have to recite back. That it’s vitally important to see the patterns in what we do, in who we are as a society. History isn’t a dead thing, but a living energy, and we must learn or we’re doomed to repeat it.”

  Oh, he could see how students would enjoy taking one of Dr. B’s classes. Look at that sudden, wonderful passion.

  “You make me want to audit,” he admitted. He was a bit of a history buff anyway—it went hand in hand with archaeology. “Our subjects make good bedfellows.”

  “They do. What about you? What’s your passion?”

  “My mom would tell you I just love digging in the dirt. She wouldn’t really be wrong, either. I find it fascinating how the stuff we leave behind tells a story. I love knowing that it isn’t the whole story, either, that any picture I might make from the things I find could be totally wrong.”

  “History is written by the victor, isn’t it?”

/>   “I like to think those of us who dig pieces of it up get a say too.” He loved talking with Kenn, loved having real conversations that had nothing to do with a ball game or the latest video-game craze.

  They began debating everything on earth—mummies and carpetbaggers, child labor and Aztec rituals. At some point Kenn removed his shoes and his sweater, moving to sit on the bed.

  Dave got himself another glass of water, pouring one for Kenn as well, and they got right back to it. His ass was happily planted, and he couldn’t remember being in better company.

  It was the light creeping in through the window that alerted him to the time, and he looked at his watch. “Shit. It’s morning.” The last time he’d been awake all night he’d been cramming for exams.

  “Lord. I have a nine o’clock and a ten o’clock to teach.”

  “And I’ve got office hours at eight!” That seemed like a stupid idea now. “Hopefully I’ll have time to shower when I get home.” He laughed. “You’re something else, Kenn.”

  “You’ll have to have a long nap this afternoon, huh? At least it’s Friday….”

  “Yeah. And I will have a long nap this afternoon. I want to be bright and fresh tonight.”

  “If you decide to cancel, I’ll understand. It’ll be a disappointment, but I’ll totally understand.”

  Knowing that Kenn would be disappointed if they didn’t meet up tonight made him happy deep inside. He grinned. “I won’t cancel.”

  He wanted to give Kenn a kiss goodbye, but with him standing and Kenn on the bed….

  “I’ll see you tonight, then.” Kenn unfolded himself from the bed.

  “Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.” He cupped Kenn’s cheek and pressed their lips together, but he kept the kiss quick before turning to go. “Meet you at Davidos at six fifteen.”

  “I’ll be there. Have a good day, David.”

  “You too. Mine’s gonna be great. Started out that way anyway.” He headed out, grinning like the proverbial fool. He couldn’t have wiped the smile of his face if he’d tried, and he didn’t have any desire to try.

  Chapter Three

  “YOU SPENT the night with him?” Tim’s eyes were wide. “He’s just a baby!”

  “One, we’re of an age. Two, we talked all night, that’s all. Three, why are you in my apartment again?”

  “Because I covered office hours for you while you slept, dude. Talk!”

  “He’s nice. We have a lot in common. That’s all.” Kenn rubbed his eyes, still feeling a little drugged after his sleepless night. He’d faked his way through two classes, thank God. Tim had covered for him when he’d napped away his office hours, and now he had to get ready for his date. No, not a date. They were going to sample pizza—that was it.

  “Oh, please, up all night? And all I get is ‘he’s nice and we have a lot in common’?”

  “Tell me about the cop.”

  “Married with children.” Tim rolled his eyes.

  “Oh God.” Tim had the worst luck.

  “He was a good lay until he started panicking about getting home and making sure he didn’t stink of ‘manlove.’ His words, not mine. Maybe I should start going for the last guy in the room I normally would. Maybe that’ll turn things around.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. Seriously. That really sucks.” He scooted to the edge of the bed, reaching out for his best friend.

  “Oh, he wasn’t all that good in bed anyway.” Tim grinned at him. “The handcuffs were fun, though.”

  “Tim!” He cracked up, stood and went to the refrigerator. “You want a Coke?”

  “Don’t you have a date to get to?” Tim asked, nonetheless holding out his hand for the aforementioned soft drink.

  “I have an hour. Do you want to come?”

  “On your date? Three’s a crowd, honey. Especially with someone who you spent the whole night with.” Tim opened the can Kenn had handed over and sucked half of it down. “I’m not heartbroken about last night, honey. I got an orgasm that wasn’t by my own hand. How about you?”

  “Tim, don’t be crass.” He shook his head.

  “Maybe if you play your cards right tonight, you’ll get laid too. It’s crazy how past due you are.”

  “Shut up, Tim. I’m fine.”

  “You’re a monk! It’s not natural.” Tim drank the rest of his Coke and bounced up, began wandering around Kenn’s little place.

  “I’m looking for friendship, Tim. That’s it.”

  “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but isn’t that lonely?”

  “Sometimes.” But that was okay. Lonely was better than miserable.

  Tim came over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug.

  Kenn leaned in, rested for a second. “Why couldn’t we be a love match, honey?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “What?” He laughed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Huh?”

  “On your date. What are you wearing?”

  He shrugged. “Jeans? It’s just pizza.” It wasn’t really a date anyway. It was two guys with a lot in common trying out pizza joints.

  “At least wear something bright and wonderful on top.” Tim began going through his clothes. “God, you have some great shirts.”

  “I like the unusual ones.”

  “Oh, this one will bring out your eyes.” Tim handed him an emerald-green number from Bali.

  “It’s not too much?” He tugged it on, the soft fabric making him feel oddly sensual.

  “It’s perfect.” Tim stood back, admiring.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” Tim walked around behind him. “You’re lovely. Now, do you want me to walk you there?”

  “Sure, absolutely. Come on.”

  “You are not wearing those awful sandals. Wear the deck shoes.”

  “Those ‘awful’ sandals happen to be the most comfortable shoes I own.”

  Tim crossed his arms and stared Kenn down.

  “You’re so queer, Tim.”

  “You think, butthead?” Tim pointed. “Put the Dockers on and let’s go.”

  Kenn checked his hair, put in an emerald stud earring to match his shirt, and splashed on some cologne. “Ready.”

  “You’re still wearing the wrong footwear. So much for ready. Change them.”

  “You—”

  “Do it.”

  Tim was the most stubborn man. And his best friend, always looking to help him.

  “Why do I put up with your ass?” He changed shoes and grabbed his keys and his wallet.

  “Because you love me.” Tim put his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and headed out.

  “I adore you. What are you up to this weekend?”

  Tim shrugged as they headed down the stairs. “I was thinking about checking out that new gay bar, the Rainbow Cup.”

  “Looking to get laid again so soon?”

  “I keep hoping one of them’s going to be good for more than one night.”

  He chuckled, but he worried. “Be safe, huh? Seriously.”

  “I’ll call you every night at ten, Mom.”

  “Okay.” As much as they teased, Kenn knew Tim loved having someone there for him.

  “You’re the one who should call me tonight. Let me know that you’re okay. Hopefully let me know that you’re getting laid.” Tim was starting to sound like a broken record.

  “You’re obsessed with my sex life.”

  “You do know it stops working if you stop using it, right?”

  He had to laugh. Had to. “Just because I’m not getting laid doesn’t mean I’m not using it.”

  “Nope. Choking your own chicken doesn’t count.”

  “It does too! An orgasm is an orgasm.” Wasn’t it?

  “Nope. Solos are not the same as getting laid.”

  “Are we really debating this?”

  Tim laughed. “It seems like we are.”

  The conversation h
ad taken them to the corner nearest the pizza place and David, who was waiting there. “What are you debating?” he asked as he joined them, walking beside them.

  “Whether or not solo orgasms count as much as getting laid,” Tim said.

  Kenn glared. “Tim!”

  David chuckled as they reached Davidos. “Pleasure is pleasure, right?”

  “There you go. Goodbye, Tim. Call me tonight and check in.” Butthole.

  “Ditto!” Tim gave him a shit-eating grin and mouthed, He’s hot! before splitting off and heading toward town.

  “David, hi. Did you get some rest?” He hoped so. He sure had crashed and burned.

  “Yeah, I went home after my office hours and slept until about ten minutes ago.” David laughed, holding the door to the pizzeria open for him.

  “Excellent. Tim took my office hours so I could rest.” He’d have to work this weekend, but it would be worth it.

  Once he went in, he let David take the lead and followed in his wake. It afforded him the opportunity to admire the guy. A fair bit taller than he was, David’s muscles were nicely shown off in a tight blue T-shirt that made his eyes seem even bluer. The short brown hair had that just-out-of-bed quality.

  “This okay?” David asked, choosing a table by the windows in the corner.

  “Perfect.” Kenn sat, inhaling the spicy scent that filled the air. He hadn’t even known he was hungry until then.

  “Now I’m glad I didn’t get anything to eat all day.” David looked around, checking the place out. “You have any recommendations?”

  “I like the sausage and onion.”

  “Cool.” David glanced at the menu. “I’m going to get the fully loaded baked-potato pizza, minus the bacon.”

  “You don’t eat bacon?”

  “No, I don’t. I’m vegetarian, actually.”

  “Oh? Good to know.” So, no sausage breath for him. That just seemed rude.

  “I’m not preachy about it, though. I don’t push it down anyone’s throat, and I have no problem with you eating meat.”

  “Cool.” Still. He’d have a… well, he’d just have a cheese pizza, he guessed.