When it rained, it poured.
Chapter 2
“Something wrong?” said a familiar voice before an arm was slung around Shawn’s shoulders.
Shawn glanced at Christian, but kept walking. Their next class was going to start in ten minutes and it was one he couldn’t be late for. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Spill.” His friend’s dark brown eyes were fixed on him curiously.
Shawn shrugged. “I’m broke. And on top of that, they’re going to terminate my scholarship if I don’t improve my grades in three classes.”
Christian frowned. “I thought you already talked to Bates and Summers and explained your situation.”
Sighing, Shawn raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah. But there’s also Fluid Mechanics.”
Christian grimaced. “Rutledge.”
“Yep,” Shawn said miserably.
The school’s youngest tenured professor, Derek Rutledge had the nickname “Professor Asshole” for a reason. Strict and harsh, he set impossibly high standards for students and despised those who failed to achieve them. He didn’t tolerate “laziness.” And since Shawn missed too many of his lectures and often didn’t have time to complete his assignments, he was probably one of Rutledge’s least favorite students—if the man even had favorite students. The chances of Rutledge cutting him some slack were nonexistent. Rutledge didn’t cut anyone any slack. His demands bordered on ridiculous, but in the board’s eyes Rutledge could do no wrong, since he garnered a lot of research grants—like, a lot. Shawn had to give Rutledge credit—one didn’t become such a highly respected researcher by the age of thirty-three if one wasn’t incredibly intelligent—but it didn’t change the fact that the guy was a total asshole.
“What are you going to do?” Christian said.
“No idea.” Shawn made his way to their usual seats at the front of the lecture hall: Rutledge had ordered him and Christian to sit there all the time after he had caught them talking during his class. Shawn sat down and sighed. “What should I do?”
“I wish I could help you.” Christian dropped into a seat next to him. “But you know I’m a bit tight on the money, too.”
Shawn nodded. Christian lived at his grandmother’s and helped her as he could. His parents worked in another country and weren’t much of a help.
“What about your aunt?” Christian said. “I thought she used to help you out when things got tough.”
Shawn paused and gave him a look. “She died last year, Chris. I told you that.”
Christian’s face flushed bright red. “Shit, I’m sorry—I don’t know how I—”
Shawn shook his head. “Forget it.” It wasn’t that Christian didn’t care; he was just very sociable and had more friends than Shawn had acquaintances. No wonder it had slipped out of his mind.
“What about your cousin—Sage?” Christian smiled sheepishly. “See, I’m not completely hopeless! I remember him!”
Shawn laughed. “You are hopeless. He just recently got out of prison, and he needs to sort out his life. He doesn’t need my problems on top of his own. Anyway, I wasn’t asking about money. I meant Professor Rutledge. If I don’t get good grades in his class, I’ll lose the scholarship and will have to drop out.” Though sometimes Shawn wondered if it would be better to drop out: if he didn’t have school to attend, it would improve his chances of finding a half-decent job. Except a college degree would increase his chances of finding a well-paid job and giving Emily and Bee everything they needed as they grew up.
“Actually,” Christian said suddenly. “I’ve heard an interesting rumor about Rutledge.”
“What rumor?”
Christian glanced around, as though to make sure no one could hear them, before leaning in and murmuring into Shawn’s ear, “Tucker says Professor Rutledge has a weakness for pretty boys.”
Shawn blinked. “No way. He was just messing with you!”
“Nope, he was dead serious. Apparently someone saw Rutledge with a young guy all over him.”
Shawn chuckled, shaking his head. “Even if it’s true, what does it have to do with me?”
Christian gave him a pointed look.
Shawn opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Christian wiggled his eyebrows. “Tucker says Rutledge has a thing for blonds.”
“Unlucky for you, then.”
Smiling, Christian ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “Pfft. If I wanted to, it wouldn’t matter. But you’ve got it easy, blondie. Come on, man, it’s a perfect solution!”
Shawn gave him a pinched look. “There’s a tiny problem, though. I’m straight.”
His friend didn’t look fazed; he actually had the nerve to laugh. “So what? I’m not telling you to take it up the ass. Though it can actually feel very, very good if the other guy knows what he’s doing.” Christian grinned, and Shawn snorted. Christian was bisexual and had no problem admitting it.
“Chris—”
“I’m just saying you can be all flirty and shit without actually doing anything with him, you know? You’ve got the looks. I mean—you’re not my type, but I’m not blind. You’re hot. Easily the hottest guy in school.”