SEDUCING MY BIKER PROFESSOR

CHAPTER 35: The Excuse

Ronan's POV

My office was a bit dark, smelling of stale smoke, coffee and old leather. Spread out in front of me were the thick ledgers from last week's weapons shipments and the cash flow reports from the bars we managed.

I needed to review the numbers. I needed to verify the security logs after the dispute we handled last night.

I picked up my black pen. I stared at the columns of handwritten digits. But I did not read a single f*****g number.

My brain was off balance.

I lived my whole f*****g life relying on logic, rigid discipline and necessary violence. I usually spent my mornings calculating risks, distributing cash and maintaining order among my men.

Order was everything to me. I did not allow myself to get distracted by anything. I never lost focus. But this morning, my careful control was entirely gone.

Every time I closed my eyes, I did not see the ledgers or the territory maps. I saw a pair of green eyes looking up at me from my dining table.

I leaned back in my chair and dropped the pen on the desk. I ran both hands over my face, feeling the stubble on my jaw.

My skin felt too hot. My mind kept replaying the exact moment I grabbed his face.

I remembered the exact weight of Leo in my arms. I remembered the heat of his mouth pressing against mine.

I could still taste the sharp, burning bite of my whiskey mixed with the sweetness of his tongue. I remembered the exact way his fingers had gripped my jacket, holding onto me like I was the only thing in the room.

It was a brief kiss. It lasted only a few seconds before the alcohol he consumed shut his system down.

But it was enough to completely ruin my morning. I had reacted with an intensity I had never experienced before in my life.

The aching arousal from last night was gone, but a persistent tension remained tight in my chest.

I wanted to pull him back onto my lap. I wanted to see what he looked like when he was not crying over some f*****g i***t who rejected him.

I stood up from the desk. I paced across the cramped office.

I needed to get my head right. He was just a college kid. He was my sister's friend, too young. He was drunk, emotionally wrecked and vulnerable. I was a criminal running a motorcycle club. We had absolutely no business crossing paths.

I told myself to bury the memory immediately and never think about him again.

I walked back to the desk. I looked at my phone that was sitting right next to the ledgers.

I knew I should leave the situation alone. I knew the best and safest thing to do was maintain my rules of total indifference. If I ignored him, the problem would go away.

However, a nagging thought kept pushing its way into my brain and overriding my logic.

He had consumed a large amount of high-proof liquor on an empty stomach. He had passed out completely. Alcohol poisoning was a very real risk.

I needed to know he was okay.

I stared at the black screen of the phone for a long time. I was breaking my own rules. I was crossing a line I swore I would never cross. But the burning need to know he woke up safe overrode my discipline.

I picked up the phone. I unlocked the screen and opened my messages with Nirvana. We rarely texted each other. I could always give her a call whenever I had something to say. But I doubt if my voice wouldn't reveal my dark intention. I tapped the keyboard. I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen.

I typed out the words quickly before I could talk myself out of it.

“Is your friend awake?”

I hit send. I set the phone face down on the desk.

My chest felt tight and I felt a sudden spike of anxiety that seemed ridiculous to me.

I was a man who handled armed rivals without flinching, but sending a simple text message about a boy was making my pulse pound in my ears.

The phone vibrated against the desk two minutes later.

I snatched the phone up immediately. Nirvana had replied.

She told me he was awake. She said he had a strong hangover but he was currently in the campus with her.

I let out a breath I did not realize I was holding. He was okay. He was up and moving around the college.

Fuck! What the hell was I doing?

My fingers rubbed my face again. As if it would make my sense come back to me.

The rational part of my brain told me to put the phone down, sit back in my chair and finish the shipment ledgers. The situation has been handled. I had my answer. He was fine.

Instead, I shoved the phone deep into the pocket of my jacket. I turned around, grabbed my helmet from the chair and snatched my keys off the desk.

I walked out of the office and headed straight for the club's garage. I rationalized the sudden trip in my head with rapid logic.

Nirvana was at the university right now. We were actively dealing with a dangerous stalker who was leaving unhinged messages about her whereabouts. I needed to check the security guarding my sister.

It was a perfectly logical excuse. It was my literal job to protect her from threats.I swung my leg over the motorcycle and started the engine.

But I was lying to myself. I knew exactly what my motive was. I did not care about the surroundings right now. I just wanted to see his face.

I needed to see him with my own eyes to make sure the tightness in my chest was not just some trick of my imagination.

I reached the campus twenty minutes later. I parked near a stone wall and cut the engine. I did not take my helmet off right away. I sat on the leather seat and looked around the area.

Hundreds of students were walking across the intersecting concrete paths, carrying backpacks and talking loudly. The atmosphere was completely different from the dark world I operated in. These people were worried about grades and exams. I was worried about rivals, guns and territory control. We did not belong in the same space.

I briefly checked the surrounding buildings. I spotted two of my security men positioned exactly where they were supposed to be.

My logical excuse was officially fulfilled. I should have started the engine and driven back to the club.

Instead, I took my helmet off and rested it on the gas tank. I leaned forward, resting my thick forearms on the handlebars.

My eyes immediately started scanning the crowd of students. I was desperately searching the sea of faces for one particular person. I looked for a head of messy brown hair. I looked for the oversized grey hoodie from last night. I looked for a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

Minutes passed and I kept watching. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to leave. This was out of control. I was acting like a stalker myself, sitting on a bike and waiting for a boy who might not even remember kissing me. I gripped the handles of the bike, fully ready to pull myself up and put the helmet back on.

Then, I saw him.

He was coming from the direction of a large art studio. He wore dark jeans and a dark jacket today. He looked tired, walking slowly, with his gaze down at the ground.

I gripped the handle of my bike hard enough to turn my knuckles white and my heart started hammering against my ribs. The reaction was immediate and undeniable. Just looking at him from a distance made my blood run entirely hot.

I promised myself I would just look. I promised myself I would only take one last glance at his face to satisfy my irrational urge and leave before he ever knew I was there.

But as I watched him, Leo suddenly stopped walking. He lifted his head and turned his face.

My breath caught in my throat.

He looked directly across the quad, cutting through the moving students and locked his green eyes directly onto me.