The Professor

Chapter Twelve | Mine

I don't know much about Freddie; other than the snippets of information I've received through listening to James and Nicole talk about him. I know he's a police officer and that he's somewhat judgemental of Nicole's eating disorder. James has defended him in the past, but his body language now suggests he's anything but happy to be seeing his big brother.

"Hey, I'm Sloan. Nicole's roommate."

I take hold of his hand in polite acknowledgement and smile. His hair is a lot lighter than James' and they have opposing eye colours. Freddie is slightly taller and wider, though that could be because he's wearing a jacket that—given the warm temperatures—seems a little on the bulky side.

"Pleasure to meet you," he replies, smirking.

His tone is suggestive, and I immediately pull back, seeking comfort in the eyes of James.

Thankfully, he intervenes. "Are you coming in?"

"Of course! I didn't come all this way to say hello then bugger off."

"It wouldn't be the first time," mumbles Nicole, unlocking the front door.

Freddie doesn't seem to hear, or if he did, he chooses to ignore it.

"How's the new job going, Jamie?" he asks, removing his jacket to reveal a casual white sweater.

James wears the colour better.

"Great. My colleagues are nice, and my office is amazing."

"He also has incredible students," I say, attempting to lighten the mood.

Nicole laughs, then explains. "Jamie is Sloan's Professor."

"No shit! You're a literature nerd too, then?"

I smile, oddly proud to be shoved in the same category as James.

"Yep!"

"That's... endearing."

His eyes stray from my face to check out the rest of my body and I can't help but feel uncomfortable. The only person eligible to look at me like that is James. Certainly not his older fucking brother.

"Tea?" offers James, intentionally interrupting Freddie's ogling.

"Got anything stronger?"

"We've got wine," suggests Nicole, grabbing the bottle from our fridge.

I gather four glasses and set them on the breakfast bar.

"So, how's school?" he asks her. "Are you enjoying your classes?"

I take this opportunity to catch James' eye from across the room. I feign getting a corkscrew and purposely brush my arm with his, hoping the action will relax him a little.

"They're fine. A bit stressful but nothing I can't handle."

"That's not what I was told."

Cue the judgement.

"Freddie!" warns James, leaving my side to go in aid of his sister. "Don't start."

"I'm only worried."

"You can be worried and not be patronising," states Nicole, defending herself.

I silently rejoice.

"If you've relapsed, we need to talk about rehab."

Nicole's eyes widen, paralysed with fear.

"No, we don't. She's fine," protests James, physically supporting Nicole by putting his hand on her arm. "She's back in touch with Doctor Chatman and has a new meal plan. The situation is being handled."