Hurriedly, I made my way into the building. I didn’t have a class scheduled until after lunch, so I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone right now. That was until—
“Hey there.”
When the door to my classroom shut behind me, I walked over to my desk and found Helene Shrieve, coach of the girls hurdle team.
She was sitting on one of the student’s desks with her long legs dangling and an open smile on her face. Helene was a beautiful woman with green eyes and honey-bronzed skin.
“Morning. Did you get lost on your way to the track?”
Laughing good-naturedly, she jumped down off the desk and made her way over to me.
“Nope. I’ve already been out there this morning. My girls are going to kill it tomorrow…which is why I’m here.”
We’d only had one conversation prior to this. Yesterday, when we’d run into each other for the first time, she’d introduced herself, as had I, and then I’d walked away.
I wasn’t here to make friends or form relationships. After my contract was up and my father—well, I didn’t want to think about that. I would be away from this place as soon as I could.
“And why’s that?”
“I heard you like photography.”
“Oh, you did, did you?”
Grinning now like she knew a secret, she nodded. “Mhmm. Principal Thomas told me, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come to the track meet tomorrow? Maybe take some snapshots of the students? It’d be great for you to see them in action and show your support.”
Somehow, the question sounded a lot like an invitation to a date, disguised as a school function, and if the way she was checking me out was any indication—I was correct.
“I don’t know…” I started as the bell sounded.
“Think about it. I’d love to see you there.”
With a nod of my head, I watched her walk to the door, and as she pulled it open, she stepped aside.
“Oh, hello, Addison.”
Jealousy.
That was exactly what I was feeling as Miss Shrieve opened the door to my history class for me. Knowing I had no other option than to be polite, I greeted her and moved into the room.
“Hi, Miss Shrieve. Brushing up on your history?” I asked, turning to face Mr. McKendrick, who was standing behind his desk looking at the both of us.
“Something like that,” Coach replied with a soft laugh that grated on my nerves. I wanted to tell her to go and brush up on someone else.
“Well, you better take a seat. Your class will be starting soon,” she advised as if I didn’t already know that.
She then addressed Mr. McKendrick again. “I hope you’ll consider the invitation.”
As she left the room, I contemplated the man silently watching me. What was she referring to, and what invitation? My curiosity outweighed my ability to think clearly as I walked over to him.
His focus kept shifting beyond my shoulder to the other students making their way to their seats. When I reached his desk, I stopped and waited.
“Go and take your seat, Addison.”
“I need to talk to you after class.”
He shook his head and went back to monitoring the door. “No.”
I lowered my voice and stepped even closer. “Want me to talk to you now?”
“No,” he repeated, but this time he looked down at me.
His eyes conveyed his inner conflict as he pinned me with them, and the combination of heated desire and exasperation made me reckless.
“Making you say yes will be fun.”
He said nothing, just gave me his back and moved to the chalkboard. Satisfied that I’d won for the moment, I went and took my seat as Brandon walked into the room.
“Where the hell were you yesterday?” he asked loudly, walking down the row.
I snuck a quick look to the front where Mr. McKendrick had stopped writing and was observing. He was more than aware of where I’d been the day before.
“I forgot, okay? Shit, relax, would you? I just went home.”
“You forgot?” Brandon sputtered as he slammed his books down on the desk. “How could you fucking forget? We talked about it right before you left.”
“Alright, Mr. Williams!” Mr. McKendrick’s voice cut through the room. “That’ll be quite enough out of you.”
The entire class hushed as he stared Brandon down, and I felt an irrational sense of joy as if he had said what he did to protect me, or maybe because he was jealous.
“Sorry, sir,” Brandon mumbled, sinking down in his seat before adding for my ears only, “We’re not done, Addy. That’s bullshit.”
I shrugged like I didn’t care and really…I didn’t. Brandon could be as pissed off as he wanted. He didn’t own me, and he sure as hell didn’t have the right to tell me what to do.
All I cared about was the man now asking about Catherine of Aragon and why King Henry VIII annulled their marriage. The answer to that was simple.
Desire, lust, and a woman. They were always the ingredients in man’s ultimate betrayal. Whether it was of the heart, mind, or soul.
I knew it was coming. The bell rang and the students filed out of the room.
All except for Addison.
“It’s time to go,” I told her as professionally as I was able.
“I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me.”
“Yes, you do.”
The smile that curved her lips should have been…no, it was illegal. Not the smile itself but what it made me want to do.
I stayed in my seat and she remained in hers. Thank God she was wearing her track pants today and not some tiny skirt, because as it was, I was finding it hard not to ogle her.
“Will you talk to me if I promise to stay over here?”
Sitting back in my chair, I asked, “Don’t you have another class?”
“Yes, but she’s not a stickler for time management like you. So? Will you talk to me?”
“I will talk to you about anything to do with your school work. Nothing else.”
Her insolence aroused me, and I could feel my cock swell because of the forbidden thoughts running through my mind.
“Where did Miss Shrieve invite you to go?”
“That’s not school related.”
“Yes, it is. You’re both my teachers. Did she asked you on a date?” she persisted.
Even though Helene had not asked me out officially, surely it couldn’t hurt to make Addison believe she had, or at least leave it up in the air.
“That’s none of your business.”
She looked to the door and then back at me. “I want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”
“Addison.”
“Yes?”
“Time to leave,” I informed her and sat up in my chair.
“I think you want to know too.”
Without meaning to, I muttered, “It doesn’t matter,” and immediately, I wanted to take it back. I heard her chair scrape and saw her moving my way.
“I knew it.”
Standing, so I felt as though I at least had some control over the situation, I disagreed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please go, before you do something that will get you in trouble.”
Her wide eyes were practically pleading with me, and fuck—I wanted her.
“Just tell me. Since you won’t touch me, at least tell me that you want to.”
The room fell into complete silence, and all I could hear was the—tick, tick, tock—of the clock as every shred of common sense I had deserted me.
“I want to.”
Time seemed to stand still as her eyes gave permission.
It wasn’t permission I needed. It was strength. The strength to resist.