Mr. Knight/A Jordan Knight Fanfic ✔️

5

5. anti-hero

Over drinks at White Harp on Thursday night, I tell Claire everything. She listens with wide, unblinking eyes, her cocktail forgotten on the table. When I'm finished, I throw back a shot of whiskey and take a heavy swallow of my beer.

"I'm not sure what to say," she begins quietly. "On the one hand, good for you for throwing down the gauntlet. On the other, I kind of want to report him. You're his TA, for Christ's sake. Granted, he's only six years older than us and ridiculously attractive. So it's not skeevy or anything. But didn't he leave BU because of the same exact thing?"

"It's probably a fetish," I mutter.

"Why is he even here? He hasn't taught since BU, and he churns out bestsellers like clockwork. It's not like he needs the cash."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I don't know. I think he really likes teaching. Or maybe he wants to redeem himself." Then I shake my head. "Who cares. He probably only got the job because the head of the graduate school is his buddy."

Claire takes a noisy slurp of her rum and coke. "This is nuts. Are you going to sleep with him?"

I gape at her. "What the fuck, Claire?"

She shrugs, grinning unrepentantly. "Exactly. Fuck. It will be good for you."

"Did you not hear a word I said? He's going to read about the accident and back off."

The laughter leaves her eyes. "Darcy, listen. I've seen your scars. They're not as bad as you think. Have you ever considered that it's not the scars that makes boys—keyword boys—hightail it the next morning? Maybe your picker is broken."

I stare at my empty shot glass, unable to hold her gaze. "You think being the queen of one-night stands is a self-fulling prophecy."

She nods perfunctorily. "Face it, you never let the nice ones get close enough. Remember Brad? He was sweet as pie and half in love with you. You kept him in the friend zone so long I thought he'd Lady-of-Shallot himself."

I snort in spite of myself. "Good reference."

Claire grins. "Thanks, but are you hearing me? Brad knew about your scars and would have worshipped them because they were attached to you."

I lift a hand to stop her. "I'm not sure what that has to do with your advice to sleep with Knight. He's on the opposite end of the spectrum from Brad."

She nods thoughtfully. "He is, but he's also opposite from all those dumb boys of our undergrad years. He's basically his own spectrum. He's worldly, obviously a deviant, and writes borderline-noir crime fiction. I bet he's going to be even more determined to have you. You're like the perfect tragic heroine."

I grimace even as her words elicit a shiver. "No way," I say weakly, scooting to the edge of the booth. "I'm going to the bar. You want another rum and coke?"

"Yep, thanks."

At the sight of the slammed counter, I pause in dismay. Without heels, I'm five-foot-five-inches of Never Going to Get a Drink. I almost return to beg Claire to go, but in my final sweep I spot a familiar figure sitting on a barstool.

I squeeze past four frat boys lost on their way to Greek Row and tap the man's shoulder. As angry voices rise behind me, Griffen turns.

"Darcy! Hey." He gives me a one-arm hug and glares over my shoulder. As he looks like a cowboy who can wrestle bulls without breaking a sweat, the muttering instantly fades.

"Thank you," I say, hopping onto the brass rail near the floor. I wave down the bartender and once my order is taken, turn to face Griffen.

"Are you here alone?" I ask curiously.