LOGAN 
Six days. I hadn’t seen in her six days. Ava hadn’t come to any of my lectures that week. The last time I saw her was when I took her back to my place last Friday. But today was a Thursday, and I had just finished up my afternoon lecture. Needless to say, I wasn’t in a good mood. In fact, I hadn’t been in a good mood all week, and I partly knew why.

I sent Ava an email last night, just to see if she was okay. I made sure to keep the letter as professional as possible. The last thing I needed was to get in hot water and have the board of review breathing down my neck. My reputation would be ruined. I was flirting with danger, and I wasn’t quite sure what the hell I was doing, but there was something about this woman, she got under my skin.

Checking my email one last time, I skimmed through the letters in hopes of finding her name through the multitudes. It was a wasted effort. It occurred to me that I did not have Ava’s phone number, so I did something I wasn’t allowed to do. I looked up her student file and found what I was looking for.

Once I made it home, I tried to avoid calling her for as long as I could. She probably would’ve gotten the impression that I was stalking her. Anyway, I kept myself busy by working out for a couple hours, then I showered and fixed some dinner before relaxing in front of the telly. The thoughts just kept nagging at me and wouldn’t cease their torture. Impulsively, I picked up my cellphone and texted her.

Text message from Logan:

Where have you been? Are you okay?

I waited and waited, until I officially killed sixty seconds. Then my mobile vibrated.

Text message from Ava:

Who is this?



Text message from Logan:

Your pissed off professor



Text message from Ava:

How did u get my #?



Text message from Logan:

I have my sources.



Text message from Ava:

What do u want?



Text message from Logan:

Answer my questions.



Text message from Ava:

I’m fine, and I’m at Elixir.



Text message from Logan:

Why haven’t you come to school?



Text message from Ava:

Y do u care? U have no problem flunking me, remember?



Text message from Logan:

Are you drunk?



Text message from Ava:

Nope. Not yet :)



Bloody hell, I was convinced that she was headed down a dwindling path of self-destruction triggered by … the loss of her grandmother? I wasn’t sure. But her emotional state was not good. You don’t just go and live your life like nothing’s wrong after you lose somebody. If she was planning on drinking away her sorrows, then I was going to give her a rude wake up call.

Why did I care enough to grab my keys and head out the door? I didn’t know. It’s not like I was obligated to feel responsible for her. I guess I just saw so much of myself in Ava. Whatever virtuous part of my personality that still remained intact, desired some sort of need to connect with someone who was also damaged inside. Someone like her.

oOo 
Elixir nightclub was surprisingly packed, and it was only after ten. Loud House music was vibrating the establishment, as blue laser lights flashed all around me. I was definitely familiar with this kind of atmosphere. On many occasions I had come to places like this to pull a bird and take her home with me. I was no stranger to the thrill of the hunt, and I was a master at the game of chase and capture.

Scanning my surroundings, I sought to lock my target on one recognizable face; Ava’s. But it was impossible to find her through the crowd, so I took out my cellphone from my pocket and texted her.

Text message from Logan:

I’m here. Where are u?



Text message from Ava:

In VIP-about to get hot and heavy with a Channing Tatum lookalike.



Text message from Logan:

I assume you find your jokes quite amusing Ms. Summers, but they actually lack comedy.



Text message from Ava:

Who said I was joking, professor?

The next thing I received was a picture of her smiling and sitting on some bloke’s lap. She looked smoking hot, wearing a black sequin vest top and a short white skirt with her hair down wavy.

Did I make a mistake coming here? I questioned myself, pausing and deciding to look around again before texting her back. There was no way she would start fucking some other guy after what we shared last week. I was intoxicatingly addictive. My track record with women proved that. The ladies never tired of me, I got bored with them. That was my dating pattern.

“You know, we really shouldn’t be fraternizing this way.”

Ava’s voice echoed behind me, and instinctively I turned around to face her.

Fuck. She looked even hotter up close.

“Do you need a bucket for your drool?”

Her cleavage was distracting me, and her long, tanned legs looked stunning in those six inch stilettos.

“Ready to leave?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes, right on cue. “Drop the Alpha male act. I didn’t ask you to come and babysit me.”

“I’m getting you out of here.” I said, reaching for her hand, but she immediately pulled it away.

“Who said I needed rescuing?”

“Enough with the attitude, Ava. Stop being stubborn and just let me help you.”

“I don’t need help!”

She didn’t appear to be piss drunk, but I could tell she was getting there if she kept throwing back the liquor.

“You’re not here with any friends. Do you really want to get raped tonight?”

“It’s not rape if I give my consent.” There was venom in her voice, almost like she loathed the way I expressed my concern for her.

Some wanker with a light buzz cut, dressed in a dark blazer suddenly showed up beside her. Channing Tatum my arse. He handed Ava a Martini.

“Is this guy giving you a hard time, babe?”

“Who the fuck are you?” I glared at him with hostility.

“What, do you honestly believe that you’re blessed with a golden cock or something?” Ava spoke up. “Sorry, professor. No strings attached, remember?”

Lucky for her, I wasn’t so easily wounded. My ego was taller than the CN tower.

“Right, as you wish.” I stated and walked right past her as if she didn’t exist. If she wanted to play games with me, then I’d humor her and make her regret it.

There was an impressive bar right across from me, and I headed towards it, ordering a Greyhound for myself while chatting up the sexy bar tender. Young people kept pouring into the club. I had adapted well to these kinds of environments. I was a wolf in the devil’s den, and any woman that was gorgeous enough to catch my fancy would get marked before I would approach them like the predator that I was. A sophisticated university professor by day, and a womanizer with a notorious reputation for living a licentious lifestyle by night. That just about summed me up.

I scanned the masses, sipping back on my drink, in search of the perfect candidate to participate in “Ava’s game.” Within minutes, I noticed a cute red head walking towards the bar. She was with another woman (who could’ve passed for a man because she was a proper munter), but the redhead wasn’t. Her purple dress was tight enough to tear if she bent over and short enough to steal a glimpse of her panties if I tilted my head. I flirted with her and bought her a drink before I led her to the dance floor.

oOo 
AVA 
I wasn’t going to look at him. I didn’t care that he was dancing with some chick. I didn’t care if his hands were all over her. I didn’t even give a flying fuck if he was going to make out with that broad and leave with her.

Then how come you keep glancing over at him if you don’t care?

Strobe lights shuttered in beat with the tune the DJ was dropping as I danced, desperately trying to lose myself in the music. But Logan was distracting me. He was too close, and I think he deliberately stationed himself a few feet away from me to make me jealous. I watched the redhead dance on him while he wrapped one arm around her waist and matched her rhythm from behind. He could definitely move.

The guy that I was dancing with wasn’t anyone special. I lowered my arms from around his neck and looked at him with a serious expression on my face.

“Get lost.”

“What?”

“I said, get lost!”

“You serious?” he questioned, looking confused.

I leaned into his ear and spoke up so he could catch this part perfectly, “Listen asshole, you don’t own me. I think you’re boring as fuck, and you’re definitely not hitting this tonight, so piss off!”

He looked at me like I was some crazy person. “Bitch!”

Well, at least I got rid of him, regardless of how rude and blunt I sounded. I was always confident enough to dance by myself. In fact, I preferred it. I turned away from Logan and disappeared through the crowd, until he was no longer in my line of sight. Once I found a clearing, I closed my eyes and let the electronic music caress my body in all the right places. I didn’t need someone to dance with. I didn’t need anyone to fulfill me.

The Benassi track was halfway through finishing, when I felt someone gently grab at my waist. I quickly turned around, ready to push the guy off, but immediately stopped myself. It wasn’t some random guy. It was Logan. Neither of us said anything. We just eye sexed each other for a good five seconds.

His smile was subtle as he began to move his body with the music, pulling me in closer. I abandoned my rules and wrapped my arms over his broad shoulders. Yep, I had decided to dance with him and totally contradict myself. Why did I feel so much chemistry with this man? It was off the charts. His jaw was so defined and attractive, which didn’t take away from the rest of his flawless facial features. I loved the hint of stubble around his chin and above his lip, shadowing a trace of a goatee. It made him look ruggedly handsome.

“Are we done playing your game?” Logan’s lips brushed against my earlobe.

“I wasn’t aware that we were playing one.” I answered in his ear.

His touch felt orgasmic. I was aroused as soon as his palm glided over the dimples in my back.

Holy shit. I was dancing with my university professor out in the open. What if someone recognized us? I could’ve named a long list of girls who would’ve happily traded places with me. Logan Wesley was total man candy, and I had banged him on more than one occasion.

We danced, groping, touching, and teasing each other. I loved his body. I never realized just how much I missed it.

Don’t kiss him, don’t kiss him. That voice repeated like a broken record in my head. But his lips drew closer, and I couldn’t stop myself. We kissed, and it wasn’t remotely reserved or gentle. It was fused with fervor. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue twisted over mine, grabbing a fistful of my ass. My breasts were pressed right against those hard pectorals, and it was such a turn on. I took his hand off my hip and guided it between my thighs, moving it higher and higher, never ripping my lips away from his.

“I think … we should … back to … my place,” Logan breathed in between kisses.

Despite the promise I made to stay away from him, all I wanted was to fuck his brains out. My sex drive was dominating my logic in the boxing ring, and it won the battle with a victorious smile on its face.

“Let’s go.” I answered, slipping my hand into his, as he led me through the crowd.

LOGAN 
I brought Ava back to my condo with every intention to get her away from the douchebags that could’ve taken advantage of her while she was in her most vulnerable state. People handle death and grieving differently. Something told me that Ava was still in the denial phase.

I poured her a glass of red wine and sat beside her on my leather sofa. Having dimmed the lights only made the atmosphere more romantic and relaxing, as soft lounge music played in the background. I liked to experiment on mood and setting. My goal was to engage in a meaningful conversation with her before taking her clothes off. Things between us were moving at such a rapid rate ever since we had sex in my office. I wanted to slow down a bit. I wanted to know her.

“So, how long have you been in Toronto?” I asked.

“Two years.”

“Why choose U of T instead of going to UBC?

She shrugged, sipping on her wine. “Needed a change of scenery, I guess. I grew up in North York, then moved to Mississauga, then we moved to the small town of Dundas, which is basically the capital city of teen pregnancy in Ontario. Then there was the short move to Hamilton before my family and I settled in Burlington. Mom landed a job at a hospital in British Columbia and moved out of province three years ago with my two younger brothers.”

“Is your mother a doctor?”

“Nurse.”

I don’t think I ever met someone who had moved their life around so much from place to place. It must have been tough switching schools so frequently. I remained ever watchful of her body language and expressions, but she appeared to be avoiding eye contact, fidgeting with a silver ring around her thumb.

“Listen, I don’t do the whole ‘nice girl’ facade, so let’s skip the personal details about one another.”

“Who said I wanted a nice girl?” I smiled faintly and just stared at her. “Do I strike you as the kind of man who would date nice-girls?”

Finally, she looked at me.

“No, you strike me as the kind of man who would lure a student into his office, seduce her and bang her against the wall.”

I couldn’t ignore the hilarious nature of that response as I chuckled.

“I told you, that’s the first time that ever happened. Funny that you keep mentioning it.”

“Skip the cockiness, please.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you better, Ava.”

“There’s nothing interesting about me to share. I’m attending university and doing what is expected of me.”

“What would you rather be doing?” I asked, placing my glass down on my antique coffee table, and shifting closer to her.

“Travelling.”

“Where to?” I grabbed her hand and initiated a relaxing massage. She seemed uncertain about my intimate gesture at first, but relaxed once she felt the magic of my fingertips. Ava had the most beautiful hands I had ever seen. Perfect for modelling rings, nail polish, or stroking my …

“All over, anywhere and everywhere.” she replied, breaking my perverted train of thought. “I just want to leave this province and get out of this country.”

“Why?”

It sounded like she wanted to run away from something or someone. I gently massaged her palm, applying placid pressure to her soft flesh.

“Well, for starters, our Canadian government doesn’t share a sympathetic view towards taxes.”

“Other hand,” I said, as she willingly offered it to me. “Continue.”

“For instance, in Dubai you don’t pay any taxes. No property tax, no sales tax, nada.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but do you also know that they don’t grant citizenship to immigrants unless they’re of Arabic descent. Technically you and every other foreigner is not worthy of such a privilege, and it doesn’t matter if you were born there. They’re pretty tight up the arse about that. You won’t be forced to pay tariffs, but living expenses are outrageously high.”

“How do you know all this, have you lived there?” she finished her wine and settled the glass down on the table, as I continued with my amazing hand massage.

“No, but I have a friend who teaches abroad. She spent a few years in Dubai—made good money. It just wasn’t an ideal place for her to settle down as permanent residence.”

“I see.”

“Did I just burst your dream bubble?” I chuckled low.

“No, going to Dubai isn’t my dream.”

“Then what is?”

Now this I was curious to know.

“I don’t have one. Dreams are stupid. But since you’re putting me on the spot, I’d like to blow up the whole damn world to Hell.”

“That sounds more like a nightmare than a dream.”

She was cynical beyond belief. I wondered how that happened.

“That’s open to interpretation based on individual opinion.”

I appreciated an intelligent woman. Ava definitely had a good head on her shoulders.

“One man’s dream may be another man’s nightmare—as sexist as that sounds,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair and staring down at our hands.

“I don’t suppose you’re referring to Adolph Hitler?”

“You read my mind, professor.”

“Well, he was definitely a visionary. The Holocaust is one of the darkest chapters in world history. The man was a psychotic, mass murderer.”

“History’s depressing,” Ava exhaled, “And what’s even more depressing is how it keeps repeating itself.”

My white pit bull suddenly hopped onto her lap and licked her cheek. The old bastard was staying at my ex’s place for the past three weeks because we shared custody of him. I let her keep him longer since I needed a bit of a break from “daddy duty.”

“Ew, gross! Get him off me.”

“He likes you,” I laughed, petting his head.

“He’s a dog. I’m sure he likes everybody. Down boy!”

“Not necessarily. Georgie has this god given ability to sense good people from the bad.”

“Ah, then I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped your face off yet.”

Cheeky girl.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t humped you yet.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s just waiting for the opportunity to corner me against a wall.”

“There you go with that innuendo again,”

“Like father like son,” Ava grinned sardonically.

“Are you insinuating that I’m a dog, Ms. Summers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Professor Wesley.”

“Do you enjoy this petty little banter between us, Ava?”

“Actually, I do, Logan.”

I let out a mirthless laugh. She was sharp, clever, and I found her sarcastic humor quite charming. After all, I was British.

“So, tell me. Did you leave with me tonight because you wanted to, or because you didn’t want me taking home that gorgeous red head?”

“Neither,” she casually responded. “Just thought I’d cock block you since you ruined my night. And by the way, she wasn’t gorgeous. I did you a favor.”

“How did I ruin your night exactly? I went my separate way after you made it clear that you had a penchant for wankers.”

“You didn’t have to swoop in and save me,” Ava glared, “I wasn’t a damsel in distress. In relation to the redhead, you clearly have a fetish for ugly women. I don’t even know what I’m doing here to be honest, since I don’t fall in that category.”

“That woman was a dime, she wasn’t mingin’!” I scoffed.

“How many drinks did you have exactly? Because you obviously didn’t pay attention to the disaster that was her face.”

“Shallowness is not an attractive quality, Ava.”

“You’re the one who said ‘mingin,’ not me. And I’m no trying to impress you. I don’t need to impress anyone. I speak my mind and tell it how it is, just how I see it. Blunt, but straight to the point and always honest.”

I rested my arm along the top edge of the sofa and studied her. “You know, despite the mixed signals you constantly give me, I think I’m beginning to figure you out.” I declared with confidence.

“No one figures me out, but good luck with that.” She pulled out a twenty deck from her red handbag and put the tip of the fag between her lips.

“Hey, no smoking in here.” I confiscated it, feeling as if I was doing her a favor.

“Fine, I’ll just smoke on your terrace,” she stood up and looked at me. “In the middle of freezing winter!”

“That’s a horrible attempt at a guilt trip. No one’s forcing you to take a drag.”

I watched her walk towards my balcony doors, and decided not to dictate further. If there was one thing I learned about Ava, it was that she immediately bolted whenever she felt suffocated or controlled. So, I followed her outside and stood close to her, covering her shoulders with a throw blanket. The CN tower was visible from this view of my condo. It was a magnificent model of architecture and was the first attraction I visited when I arrived in Toronto.

“How long have you been a smoker?”

“Five years,” Ava exhaled the smoky nicotine from her lungs and looked at me. “I started at the sweet age of sixteen—and please don’t go all ‘medical doc’ on me, lecturing me about the side effects of this shit. I’ve done worse.”

“You’re young. You’re beautiful. This ‘shit’ will only age you faster.”

“It helps curb my appetite, which is a fair price to pay. At least I won’t balloon into Shamu.”

Was she struggling with an eating disorder? She was pretty thin, but not sickly skinny.

“No, I don’t purge or starve myself if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

Blatant lie, but she didn’t know that.  

“I’ve been through the whole anorexia deal. It wasn’t fun.” Ava put out the fag and flicked it over the railing.

My eyes cascaded over her body. She looked amazing in her club outfit, but she could’ve put on another ten pounds at least. An extremely bony and underweight version of her flashed before my eyes, as I imagined her face all gaunt and lifeless. Anorexia was a disease that was literally like a slow and torturous death. I wondered what had caused her battle in the first place. It was a relief to know that she had overcome it.

“I’m no ball of sunshine, that’s for sure.”

“That’s okay. I’m English. I’m accustomed to rainy weather.” I offered a charismatic smile.

“I’m not a gloomy little rain cloud. I’m like the mother of all storms. Take shelter, warning, breaking news kind of thing.”

Her smoky brown eyes were shimmering in the darkness. Living in such a populated city meant that the stars were hardly ever visible. But the nightlife in Toronto was usually lively at this hour.

“Do you always talk this way?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

“What way?”

“Like you don’t give a shit about anyone or anything.”

“That’s not accurate. I care about myself.” She shifted her weight to her right leg and wrapped the blanket around her chest more.

“Ah, so you’re a narcissist. That makes sense now.”

I didn’t believe she was, but I just humored her, regardless.

“I kind of like that word. The way you say it with that accent of yours, naah-cissist,” Ava laughably attempted to impersonate my pronunciation.

“I guess you’d have no trouble fitting in with English society,” I chortled. “I think you’re posh enough for London life. You’re certainly dressed like it.”

“Posh? No, I’ve always loved Sporty Spice more.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I wasn’t making a Spice Girls reference.”

“I know, but it just randomly popped into my mind when you mentioned ‘posh.’”

So, she was a fan of the spice girls. Still better than being a thirty year old woman boasting about her china doll collection, I thought. That date was agonizing to get through.

“So, are we going to fuck now or what?”

“My, my, straight to the point aren’t we?” I slid my hands into my pockets.

“You should appreciate that in a woman. I don’t beat around the bush. I make my intentions clear.”

“Point well-made and appreciated, but I didn’t bring you back to my place to shag like we did the last time.”

“So, you were willing to bring home that ugly chick, but refuse to sleep with the woman who’s probably given you the best sex of your life? What a shame, especially since she’s standing right in front of you.”

“Who’s being cocky now?”

“I did say probably.”

“Have I wounded your ego, Ava?”

She regarded me in a very condescending way. “My ego is bullet proof. You can’t injure it.”

“I bet I could.”

The question was, did I really want to?

“Come on. Hit me with your best shot, professor.”

“I don’t hit women.”

“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes.

“That includes verbal assault.” I added.

“Well, what a gentlemen you are. But you can’t ever hurt me, even if you wanted to. No one can. The only person I ever really loved is dead. I cried, and now I’m over it. If anything, it’s one less person to care about. One less weakness.”

Love is everyone’s weakness, sweetheart, I silently concluded, as I watched the wind blow through her dark locks.

“What about your mum and the rest of your family?”

“Mom and I don’t get along. I resent her too much to be around her, and my relationship with my younger brothers is nothing special. If I dropped dead tomorrow, I doubt they would care. No one would shed a tear.”

I refused to believe that. Did she push people away because she was afraid to love? Or did she push them away because she was afraid to be loved?

“You’re isolating yourself. That’s why you’ve been ditching classes.” I changed the subject and directed the focus back on her as an individual, separate from her family dynamic.

“I don’t see how partying through the week is considered isolation. Especially since I’m around, you know, hundreds of people.”

Was there ever a moment when she didn’t sound sarcastic?

“You’re neglecting your priorities. Being careless is not wise.”

“Stop analyzing me,” Ava exhaled. “You’ll only end up severely head fucked. That’s what I do,” she stepped closer to me, dropping the blanket. “I fuck a guy’s cock,” her hand brushed up against my crotch. “I fuck his heart,” she placed her palm on my chest. “And then I fuck his mind before I walk out the door and say, fuck you.” She flipped me the middle finger with a satire smile on her face. It was the grand finale of her gestures. I found it amusing though.

Ava reached into her bag for another smoke.

“Put the fag away and let me feed you.”

“It’s late.”

“And you must be hungry because you haven’t properly fed yourself throughout the day.”

“Not true,” she protested.

“Really? Tell me, what did your meal plan consist of exactly?”

“Cheerios for breakfast, tuna sandwich for lunch, and a grilled chicken wrap for dinner.”

“Stop counting calories and come on inside.” I insisted.

“Just let me finish this cigarette.”

“If you smoke it, I won’t kiss you.”

She was about to light up, but stopped.

“Ah, finally, some proper motivation.” I grinned with pride.

“Get over yourself.”

She balanced the cigarette between her lips and raised the lighter to her mouth. I acted quickly and threw both items on the ground before I pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her and enveloping her shivering body in my arms. She felt tense, but relaxed more as I continued to sweep my lips over hers. When I withdrew, I managed to lure her back to my living room, where she dropped her handbag on the sofa and followed me into the kitchen. Hook, line, and sinker.

oOo
Author’s Note: Hey everyone, just wanted to let you know that the next chapter is complete. I had to split it into 2 chapters because it had exceeded word count limit. Hopefully will be approved and published soon. As always, thanks for reading!