The professor, the hair stylist, and a wedding date…
Help! My sister is getting married and according to her, I need a date. And a makeover. I’m a busy man, though. I don’t have time to meet eligible bachelors, and the tape holding my glasses together works just fine. Until my hair stylist steps on them.
Yes, Noah, my dazzling dreamboat of a hair guru created a mini-disaster, but I don’t mind at all. He’s a sweet, funny, kind jock who—
Screech! No jocks. I have nothing in common with sporty people.
Except…Noah is different.
I don’t date. However, I’m not opposed to offering fashion advice to a sexy professor in need. A haircut, a quick shopping expedition…
Boom! Mission accomplished.
Not so fast. I’ve misjudged the situation and my attraction to the geek with the tragic sense of style. Sure, Thomas is too smart for me by a long shot, but there’s something about him that makes it easy to forget my past. It might be his quietly commanding nature or his movie-star good looks. Or maybe it’s just him.
All I know is that I’m very tempted to be the professor’s date.
The Professor’s Date is an MM geek/jock romance featuring a nerdy professor, a soccer-playing hair stylist, and a quest for the perfect date!
“My plan was to take you to a couple of my favorite places, all within walking distance of this one. You probably need a few button-down shirts, trousers, a nice sports coat, right?”
“And maybe a belt and socks too. How are you doing on underwear?” he asked casually. As if it was no big deal to talk about underwear on a busy street in West Hollywood.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t, but I cast a quick glance to my left and right because this was my underwear we were talking about.
“Fine, thank you,” I whispered tersely.
Noah grinned, suddenly seeming more at ease as he stepped toward the store’s entrance. “If you say so, but they sell delicious unmentionables at Harrisons’.”
“Yes. Soft cotton that doesn’t bunch around your balls or get stuck in your crack.” His matter-of-fact delivery contrasted with the mischievous glint in his eyes.
I chuckled in spite of myself. “Well, okay. I prefer boxer briefs, if you must know.”
“Me too. Follow me, sir.”
Noah held the door open with a flourish, leading me through the athletic gear and sporting equipment sections to the clothing department. He bypassed the basic tees and made a beeline to a wall filled with men’s underwear, then struck a Vanna White pose.
“Black, white, or gray.”
He tsked. “Oh, that’s a tad boring.”
“I don’t need my boxers to be exciting,” I said primly.
“Oh, honey, yes, you do. We all do.”
And there he was again. The slightly sassy and flirtatious man who threw casual endearments like beads at a Mardi Gras parade. I took that as a sign that he felt comfortable with me, though I’d admit I didn’t understand his initial hesitation.
Did I make him nervous? Was that even possible? He seemed so confident, and I wasn’t exactly the mysterious or dangerous type. The only time I incited anxiety was when I assigned pop quizzes on top of lab work to my freshman students.
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, and 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a not quite empty nest.
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