I knew the moment I walked into Dr. Felix Sterling’s office that I’d found my next leading man—or at least, the messiest genius in a three-mile radius. His office was part library, part explosion, and part cry for help. Books everywhere. Three open laptops. A whiteboard covered in formulas that may or may not have been about lube viscosity.
Dr. Sterling himself was hunched behind a desk, chewing the end of a pen and looking like a gay Doogie Howser who’d aged into anxiety and never stopped pulling all-nighters.
Me: Dr. Sterling. Thanks for letting me barge into your natural habitat.
Felix: Oh! Yes! Thank you for coming. I—wait, not like that—I mean, thank you for visiting.
[He shoves a pile of papers off a chair with a panicked gesture.]
Please, sit down! I printed out a journal article for you but then spilled coffee on it. And ink. And possibly a chemical that makes mice fall in love.
Me: Happens to the best of us. So, you’re a tenured professor, a published researcher, and you’ve got a… very interesting extracurricular situation.
Felix: [blushes hard]
If you’re referring to the, um, transformation serum, that was honestly never supposed to be public. I synthesized it during a particularly lonely Valentine’s Day.
[beat]
They say necessity is the mother of invention, but loneliness? She’s a wicked stepmother with a strap-on.
Me: Wow. Okay, let’s unpack that. Are you lonely?
Felix: [laughs nervously, then stops]
Yes. Profoundly. I haven’t had a boyfriend. Ever. Not a real one. I mean, there was that guy from Reddit who mailed me a lock of his hair, but that doesn’t count, does it?
Me: …No. That counts in court records, not dating history.
Felix: Exactly. I’m just not… I don’t know. People don’t see me that way. I talk too fast. I care too much about obscure 18th-century aphrodisiacs. I own a custom lab coat with my D&D character embroidered on it.
Me: Sounds like husband material to me. But you did create a serum that changes your entire personality?
Felix: It’s more than that. The compound rewires neural inhibition, boosts testosterone, and hijacks frontal-lobe regulation. It unleashes the part of me that isn’t scared all the time. The part that doesn’t double-check his outgoing emails for tone.
[quietly]
The part people actually want.
Me: Felix. C’mon. You are the whole package. You just don’t see it.
Felix: That’s sweet of you to say, but I assure you, the only people who’ve called me “hot” were under the influence of my own synthetic aphrodisiac. And it was a peer-reviewed double-blind trial, so they didn’t technically know it was me.
Me: Felix. Babe. What if you drank the serum right now?
Felix: Oh no no no no—absolutely not. The last time I did that, I woke up with glitter in places I don’t talk about, a tattoo of a dolphin with abs, and a police citation for “inappropriate hot tub evangelism.”
Me: Exactly. That’s the kind of energy this blog needs. For the readers.
Felix: But—I—this is supposed to be a serious academic interview!
Me: This is serious. I’m seriously begging you. C’mon, just one sip. For science. For love. For the readers who like a good “nerd to thirst trap” transformation.
Felix:
sighs
Fine. But if I start stripping, you have to turn the recorder off. Unless it’s for Patreon content.
Me: Deal.
Felix opens a drawer and retrieves a small, glowing vial. He eyes it like it’s his worst idea and his best chance. With one last glance at me — equal parts dread and curiosity — he knocks it back like a man surrendering to fate.
He shudders. A low sound escapes him. And then… he changes.
The curve of his spine straightens. The nervous fidgeting stills. His eyes sharpen with intent. One eyebrow arches in slow, sexy defiance. The glasses come off and so does the act.
Jax:
Ahhh. That’s better.
[Cracks his neck, flashes a grin so smug it should be illegal.]
You must be Ian. You’ve got the kind of vibe that makes a man wanna misbehave in a hotel elevator.
Me: I—okay. Hi, Jax. Welcome to the interview.
Jax: Thanks, darlin’. Felix gets all shy about this part, but I’ve got no such hang-ups. What do you wanna know? I’m an open book. A very naughty, slightly bent book.
Me: Well, people are curious. Who are you, exactly?
Jax: I’m what happens when Felix stops worrying about tenure and starts worrying about pleasure. I’m the part of him that says, “Screw the rules,” and then actually does. I like good wine, bad decisions, and kissing boys who use big words.
[leans forward]
Especially if they wear glasses and pretend they’re not kinky.
Me: You seem… confident.
Jax: Oh, I am. Confidence is just chemistry with better posture. I don’t waste time overthinking. I want something, I say it. I feel something, I do something. And if someone wants me? Baby, I notice.
Me: So you’re basically Felix, minus the insecurity.
Jax: Exactly. Felix is all heart and no hustle. I am the hustle. And sometimes, people need both.
[pauses, then softens — just a little]
He wants to be loved, you know. Not just admired for his brain. He wants someone to look at him and see him — the stammering, brilliant, lonely man who’s never quite believed he was enough.
He doesn’t think he deserves to be wanted.
Me: But you do?
Jax: Oh, sweetheart. I know he does. That’s why I exist.
[grins again, full heat this time]
And if anyone needs convincing? I’ve got a few ideas that don’t require words. Just consent… and maybe a sturdy table.
The Naughty Professor is available to preorder now. Come fall for Felix. Try to survive Jax. And maybe discover that sometimes, the messiest love stories are the ones that actually stick. The preorder price is 3.99, and goes up to 4.99 on release day!
Ian O. Lewis and Luke Jameson 