Bad Boys Do. Victoria Dahl

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      If only she were a little bit younger. Or a little less careful. But she wasn’t.

      She was just Olivia Bishop, but … she was learning to be happy with exactly that. She didn’t need to be someone different. And Olivia Bishop would never sleep with a young man in her class. Even if he did leave her body buzzing with excitement.

      “Not in a million years,” she murmured as the door closed behind him.

       CHAPTER THREE

      OLIVIA SPENT THE REST of her day doing the responsible things she expected of herself. She cleaned her tiny office and filed away all the papers and notes from the spring semester. She called her dentist and rescheduled an appointment that conflicted with her summer class. Then she walked across campus to the library, her arms full of books and bound reports. It was a beautiful day, so this was one responsibility she didn’t mind. She was smiling by the time she dropped off the books, and instead of heading toward the nonfiction area, Olivia browsed the recent bestseller rack and paged through the fiction. Book club or not, she’d like to do more casual reading.

      But her little bubble of relaxation was interrupted by the ding of her text message alert.

      Hi, sweetheart. Are you going to Rashid’s farewell party tonight?

      Sweetheart? Her ex-husband sure had a lot of nerve. He’d cheated on her. She’d divorced him. And he still thought he could manipulate her with his little hints and endearments.

      Yes, she typed, assuming he’d ask her to pass along some message. Victor always left town as soon as his last spring class finished. Olivia was actually enjoying the quiet sunshine of the campus in summertime now that she wasn’t obliged to travel with Victor.

      Her phone dinged again. Do you have the directions?

      Olivia dropped the book she was holding and stared at her phone as the loud thunk echoed through the room. What the hell did he mean by that? The only reason she’d said yes to this party was because she was sure Victor wouldn’t be there with one of his recent graduates on his arm.

      No, she typed, hitting Send as if she were pulling the trigger in a game of Russian roulette. She held her breath until the phone dinged softly again.

      No problem. I’ll call Rashid. See you there, O.

      That bastard. What right did he have to hang around when he was supposed to be gone? Had he stayed just for this? She didn’t think she was that important in his life, but he certainly seemed to relish any opportunity to strike up a conversation with her while his arm was draped around another woman.

      She wondered which one he’d bring this time. Allison? Or was there a new one? It didn’t matter. Olivia could barely tell them apart anymore.

      He’d been the one to cheat. She couldn’t understand why he was having so much trouble letting go. He’d lashed out as if it had been her fault. You’re no fun, he’d said. You’re boring! What did you expect? But the girls he dated now … they were like trips to the circus, apparently. Nonstop entertainment and wild-animal acts.

      Olivia closed the text window without replying. She picked up the book she’d dropped and left the library in a much different mood than when she’d entered. The walk across the campus now seemed an impossible distance.

      She didn’t want to go to the party if Victor was going. She could handle seeing him. She saw him four or five times a week at school, after all. But it wasn’t fair that she had to watch him parade his toys in front of her. She wasn’t even jealous anymore, she was just pissed as hell that he was so damn rude.

      But Olivia never lost her temper. She didn’t cause scenes. She didn’t do anything emotionally impulsive. She was boring, just as he’d said. No fun. And the nice thing about having a boring ex-wife was that she never caused any trouble.

      Screw him for taking advantage of that.

      Jaw clenched in anger, she stomped across the green expanse of the lawn and thought of the last faculty party. Victor had brought a beautiful young woman and flaunted her with false modesty. He was a showoff, and sometimes Olivia couldn’t believe she’d been married to him. What she’d thought of as a generous, outgoing spirit … that was just a need to be the center of attention.

      The center of attention. Like Jamie Donovan. He would give Victor a run for his money.

      Olivia stumbled to a stop, one of her shoes slipping off in the rough grass. She kicked off her other shoe and stared at her scarlet toenails peeping through the blades of emerald.

      She couldn’t, could she?

      It would be wrong. Outrageous. Emotionally immature.

      And she’d enjoy the hell out of it, at least for one petty moment. Victor deserved to be taught a lesson.

      “No,” she told herself, picking up her shoes and continuing on. The grass was a cool contrast to the hot sun. She wondered why she hadn’t kicked off her shoes earlier. Sometimes loosening up brought good things.

      “He did ask me out,” she whispered to herself. But he hadn’t asked to be used.

      Anyway, she had no way of getting in touch with him. Well, she had the class lists, but that would be slimy. Way over the line. Using a student list to call for a date would reach Victor-levels of inappropriate behavior.

      So there was nothing to be done, really. It wasn’t as if she knew where he worked. Ha.

      When she finally reached her car, Olivia slid in and laid her forehead on the steering wheel. She stared at the specks of dust on the dark speedometer.

      On one hand, she’d never do something like that: walk into a man’s workplace and ask him out. On the other hand, she was looking for new experiences. New adventures. New daring.

      But daring didn’t mean foolish. And adventurous didn’t mean sneaky.

      Decision made, she drove toward home, but for the first time, she noticed that her normal route took her within a block of Donovan Brothers Brewery. She couldn’t see it from this side of the block, but it was there, pulsing like a terrible beacon. Luring her in.

      Cursing, she turned right and drove in the opposite direction of her house. This direction took her toward the brewery, and Jamie, and the really bad decision that called to her so loudly she couldn’t ignore it.

      Pulling into the parking lot, she looked around as if she would recognize his car. Stupid. As stupid as getting out of the car and walking through the door, but there she was doing it, spite pushing her on.

      After the bright sunlight, she couldn’t see anything for a moment. This world was dark and cool and smelled strongly of icy beer and wood polish. She blinked rapidly, worried that Jamie was standing there watching her founder.

      Finally, her eyes adjusted, and she was both relieved and disappointed to see that Jamie wasn’t behind the bar. A blond woman with a perky ponytail stood at the tap. She slipped a lemon onto the edge of a glass, added it to a tray with three other beers and went to serve the only table that was occupied. “Hi!” she said as she passed Olivia.

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