Everything
The final bell rang and everyone in the class rushed to their feet and poured out into the hallway, eager to get the hell out of there. Everyone but me. I stayed right where I was in my chair, basically forcing her to talk to me.
For a couple of minutes, she pretended to ignore me, cleaning up things around the room, packing up the laptop in a carrying case. She padded over to her desk, and for several steps it looked like she was favoring one of her ankles, but then I couldn’t tell as she retreated to the safety of hiding behind her giant desk. Something I noticed she’d done both times we were in the room alone. As if a piece of furniture was going to shield her or stop the electric current that flowed between us.
After her reaction to me earlier this morning, I was confident that Friday night wasn’t just a fluke. I was also certain she realized that too. Now, what to do about it?
“Mr. Templeton, is there something I can help you with?” she asked, finally acknowledging my presence. The instant the words came out of her mouth, she scrunched her face up with the realization of how her question could come off as sexual. And I definitely took it that way, no matter her intention.
I unfolded my legs and pushed up on my feet then prowled toward her with a roguish, half-cocked grin. “Why yes, Belle, as a matter of fact, there is,” I drawled, stopping a foot or so short of her desk as I met her tenacious stare head on, my erection on full display. “I want to see you again this weekend. I play at Empty’s pretty much every Friday and Saturday night, but I usually finish up around eleven, so you can come hang out while I’m on stage, and then we can go somewhere afterward if you want, or we can just lay in the back of my truck again and get to know each other better. That was cool too.”
Shaking her head, she scoffed at my suggestion. “I’m not sure what world you live in, Everett, but I live in the one where it’s illegal for teachers to fraternize with students. I don’t know how or why you were in a bar last weekend, but I obviously thought you were at least twenty-one when we met, and… well, I didn’t think you were an eighteen-year-old high school senior!” Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest — another thing I noticed she did around me a lot, but this one I didn’t mind since it pushed her cleavage up for better viewing.
I decided now wasn’t a good time to tell her I wouldn’t be eighteen for another month and a half, and focused on the facts instead. “This morning, you were pissed at me because you thought I was a liar and a cheater, but I told you then that I wasn’t that kind of guy, ‘cause I’m not. Jayla has had a stupid crush on me for years, but never have I been in a relationship with her. I may be an asshole at times, but I’m an honest asshole.” My voice remained assertive yet gentle.
“Now, you’re angry because I didn’t tell you how old I was,” I continued on when she didn’t interject. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a life resume in my back pocket for you to review beforehand, but you didn’t seem to mind too much, if you remember correctly. Plus, for all I knew, you could’ve been there using a fake ID. People use them all the time, ya know? And it’s not like you look very old either.” Pausing to take a breath, I inched closer to her desk and her gaze once again dropped to the front of my jeans. That’s right, my sexy little pixie. Remember what it felt like when you were grinding yourself all over my shaft?
“What we did together was a decision made by two consenting adults, and I for one couldn’t get enough of you. Still fucking can’t,” I grunted, as I glanced down at the outline of my cock underneath the denim. “I know you felt it too, Belle.”
She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Even if I did, it’s not that easy, Everett. I’m your teacher. You’re my student. There are laws that say we can’t be involved. Not to mention, I’m seven years older than you.”
“Fuck our ages!” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep the volume of my voice down. “They’re just a stupid-ass number anyway. Did I feel too young for you when my fingers were sliding in and out of your tight little pussy?” Heated desire flickered in her eyes at my choice of words, but I kept on as my frustration mounted at her stubbornness. “And fuck the law too. When we met and first hooked up, you weren’t my teacher, so that shit shouldn’t matter now.”
“But it does,” she hissed. “I can sit here and agree with you all afternoon long, but because you are now my student, nothing else can happen between us.” Her tone softened as she leaned forward slightly, and said, “Look, I won’t lie to you. Yes, I feel some sort of connection when I’m around you. I won’t deny the attraction or the spark that obviously exists between us, but I don’t know you other than that and what I’ve learned in the past two days. Sure, you seem like a nice-enough guy who definitely acts older and more mature than most other kids your age, and of course I feel better learning that you didn’t have a girlfriend, but none of that changes the fact that I need this job, Everett. I can’t go back home, and I sure as hell don’t want to go to prison for someone I barely know anything about. I moved here to get a fresh start, not become a convicted felon!”
‘Then I’ll transfer out of your class too. Then you won’t be my teacher anymore,” I blurted out as soon as the brilliant idea hit me.
She shook her head again, bursting my bubble. “No, it’s any student, not just the ones in my class. And don’t you dare say you’re gonna transfer out of the school,” she warned warily, as if she was really concerned I would. I’ll admit, I contemplated it for about a second until I envisioned that talk with my parents.
“Just let it go, rockstar,” she whispered, wearing a sad smile. “Life’s all about timing, and it’s not our time.”
Once I realized her mind was made up and talking to her wasn’t going to change anything, I grabbed my backpack and left, heading home to plan out the next stage of my attack. I may not have been able to convince her mind that I was worth it…
But her body was a different story.
STROLLING DOWN THE hallway to my classroom, I glanced down at my red V-neck sweater, dark-washed jeans, and my favorite black Docs and wondered if I’d pushed the casual in Casual Friday a little too far with the boots. The mild weather from my first few days in Houston had returned, and I was happy to not be wearing a heavy coat like I had earlier in the week. The wool sweater with my camisole underneath was plenty to keep me warm in the spring-like temperatures.
The day marked the end to a roller coaster week, ending with a stomach-plunging fall when I’d watched him walk away after I told him to let it go the other afternoon. Whatever the hell it was, we both had to let it go.
But fuck if I didn’t want to.
“Mornin’, Belle!” Liam called out from behind me, causing me to stop mid-stride and turn around to face him.
As always, he wore a bright, cheery smile, like every day was the best day of his life. Either he was genuinely a happy guy, or he was the world’s best actor. Every time I saw him talking to someone, whether it was another teacher or a student, he was kind, gracious, and eager to help. I questioned myself if I had misread his friendly demeanor as flirting during our first few exchanges, but when he’d kissed me on the cheek after walking me to my car yesterday afternoon, I had my answer. Unless he was really friendly with his coworkers, and then he just became weird.
Of course, when Liam had softly brushed his lips over my cheek, I’d spazzed out and searched the parking lot for Everett, praying to God he hadn’t seen us. Thankfully, the spot where his easily-recognizable baby blue truck usually parked was empty, and I didn’t see any sign of him or it anywhere else. Then I’d stuttered awkwardly about seeing him the next day and rushed to get inside my car.
And this was the first time I’d seen him since.
“Happy Friday!” I grinned and waited for him to catch up as my stomach turned with unease. I had no idea what to expect when he approached, but I really hoped he wouldn’t try to kiss me again.
“Indeed, it is. And a tad bid warmer out there today, isn’t it?” His smile never faltered as he stopped and took me in, and then he tipped
his head toward my room when he approached, silently gesturing for me to keep walking. My gut slumped with relief.
I nodded and widened my grin, falling into step with him. “Yeah, thank goodness! I’m not a fan of that cold nastiness. I’ll take hot and sunny every day, thank you very much.”
“Careful what you wish for, young Belle.” He chuckled, winking at me. “Just wait until you experience a summer heat wave here with the choking humidity. You may just change your mind.”
“Nah, I grew up on the Gulf Coast of Alabama,” I explained, while retrieving my lanyard of keys from my bag as we stopped in front of my door. “I know all about that southern sticky heat.”
Something that sounded like a growl came from him as he mumbled, “I bet you do.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment once I realized what I’d said, and suddenly flustered, I couldn’t get the damn key inside the hole. After a couple of failed attempts, Liam took the ring out of my shaking hands and unlocked the door for me, ushering me in. Gratefully, he didn’t follow.
After I turned on the lights and made sure to flip the lock on the inside of the door, he drummed his fingers against the doorframe and offered me yet another megawatt smile. “You’re still going this afternoon, right?”
“Uh, yeah, sure… oh, absolutely,” I replied, my voice a bit hesitant until I remembered he was talking about the teacher happy hour. “Four o’clock at Celaya’s Mexican Restaurant, right?”
“Yep, that’s the one,” he nodded, “though most of us get there about half three or so. Just as soon as we can get our arses out of here and over there.”
“Cool. I’ll be there.”
With a quick wave and goodbye, he disappeared from the doorway, and I hurried over to my desk to get set up for the day. Everything seemed to be running smoothly as far as teaching was concerned. Some of the students had shown true interest in the stories I told about the different pieces of art, and that alone was enough to fuel my excitement about what I was doing in the classroom.
But something was still off. Something holding me back from fully embracing my new life.
And that something sat in the front row of my sixth period class.
BY THE TIME the end of the day rolled around, I was more than ready for that margarita. I watched as the final student packed up his things and left with a “Have a great weekend, Ms. Sloan.” Everett, of course.
For the past two days, he’d been the epitome of a good student. He came to class on time, paid attention and joined in on the class discussions, and every time he spoke to me, it had been polite and respectful. He was doing exactly what I’d wanted him to do in every way except one — how he looked at me.
When I’d stand lecturing in front of the class, his dark, penetrating gaze would roam up and down my body, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. His hungry eyes undressed me like his hands had done less than a week before, and when I dared to look at him, he’d grin innocently and pretend to write something in his notebook. On Thursday, I thought it was just me imagining it, that I was still reeling from our talk the previous day and still frustrated about the reality of our situation. But when it happened again today, I realized he was doing it on purpose. Trying to get a rise out of me simply by staring. And it worked.
It wasn’t like I could call him out for the way he looked at me, nor could I ask him not to pay attention to his teacher. I’d sound like a lunatic. He’d found a loophole in flirting I couldn’t do a damn thing about, and the harder I tried to not let it affect me, the more it did. So by the time he moseyed out the door with a final heated glance shot in my direction, my entire body tingled with desire.
And since I couldn’t have what I truly wanted, I’d have to settle for a drink or two.
After I cleaned my desk off and finished entering grades from a homework assignment, I checked the clock to discover it was already 3:45. Quickly stuffing the papers I needed to take home into my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and grabbed my purse then hightailed it out of the building and to my car.
I hadn’t even put the key in the ignition when I realized I’d left my phone in the top drawer of my desk, so with an exasperated huff, I got out of the car and rushed inside to retrieve it. The trip in was quick and painless, but on the way back out to my car, I crossed paths with Everett’s sister — whose name I couldn’t remember — in the parking lot, who immediately recognized me from Empty’s, despite my attempt to not make eye contact with her.
“Hey, you’re that girl!” she exclaimed, rapidly closing the gap between us with her long legs, her gaze narrowed in on me. “You’re the girl that was with my brother last weekend! At the New Year’s Eve party.”
I froze, eyes wide and mouth open, not knowing what to say. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t anyone within earshot, but I had no idea if someone was behind me. Please, God, don’t let this turn into a shit-show. I really need to keep this job.
“Oh, my God.” She gasped as her face flashed with horror then hardened with anger. “Did you come here to find him? Did you stalk him here? Huh? Did you?”
With each demanding question, she grew closer and closer until she was right up in my face, foaming at the mouth. I couldn’t form words, my brain refusing to snap out of its shocked state as the world began to spin around me. Total shit-show.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are to just show up here, but you need to leave. Everett has no time for nor interest in crazy-ass, psycho-bitch groupies like yourself. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call the cops,” she fumed.
“I-I-I’m Ms. Sloan,” I managed to squeak out, “the new Art History teacher here.”
Staggering backward a few steps, she gaped at me in disbelief as all of the color drained from her face. “Say what?”
I nodded and pointed over to my car, where the faculty parking tag hung from my rearview mirror. “Yeah, that’s my car. I was leaving for the day and realized I’d forgotten my phone upstairs,” I explained, lifting my cell up in the air.
“Oh, fuck me,” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else, and I tend to get a little overprotective when it comes to my brother, and—”
“It’s okay,” I assured her, reaching out to touch her arm so she’d stop and look at me. “Seriously, no harm, no foul. We can just pretend this never happened.”
Tilting her head slightly to the side, she studied me for a couple of seconds, and then a brilliant smile lit up her pretty face. “But you are her, aren’t you?” she whispered.
My lack of an answer confirmed what she already knew and she started bouncing up and down on her toes, clapping excitedly. “Oh wow! This is so exciting, a forbidden romance. I knew when Everett finally did it, he’d do it big.”
I wasn’t sure how to take the last part of her comment, but I chose to ignore it for the time being and focus on the first part. “No, there is nothing exciting, no romance,” I stressed. “I’m his teacher and he is my student. That’s it. Nothing more.”
“Okay, Ms. Sloan. I hear ya… nothing more.” She smirked sassily, as if she didn’t believe anything I was saying. “And my lips are sealed. Promise.”
She pretended like she zipped up her mouth and threw away the key then sauntered off toward a flashy silver Mercedes, waving bye to me before she lowered herself onto the driver’s seat. I peered down at the phone in my hands. 4:08. Shit. Now, I was late.
By the time I found the restaurant and joined my coworkers at the bar, I wasn’t sure if the restaurant had enough tequila for the amount I needed to drink.
“YOU SAID WHAT?” I roared from my bed, where I sat with my guitar perched on one knee and my notebook next to me on the mattress. Surely, I’d misheard her.
Ashlynn shifted her weight from foot to foot like a toddler who needed to go to the bathroom, refusing to look me in the face. She’d just finished giving me what I was sure was the Cliff’s Notes’ version of her conversation with
Belle from earlier that afternoon.
“Come on, Ev, I didn’t know,” she pleaded, her bottom lip poking out in a pout. “I thought I was doing you a favor. For the first time ever, I see you hook up with some random chick at the pub, and then a few days later, I see her at our school. I assumed your worst fears had come true and you had picked some psychotic bitch to fuck with and she’d come to hunt you down. I was trying to protect you!”
Shaking my head, I laid the instrument and journal down on the floor then stared up at her incredulously. “And what if she had been some random crazy-ass chick? What was your plan exactly? Were you gonna fight her? Detain her until the authorities showed up? Run her over with your car?” I had to chuckle; the visual of this confrontation was just too much. Even for Ashlynn.
“I don’t know, asshole. I just wanted to scare her, make her go away. Believe it not, you were my primary concern the whole time, ya know?” she contended, trying to work her voodoo-girl-magic and turn it around on me. “I just wasn’t expecting her to be the substitute everyone’s been talking about! You should’ve told me!”
“No, I shouldn’t have. It’s none of your business, and absolutely no one can know,” I asserted firmly. “If anyone finds out, she’ll lose her job, Ashlynn, could possibly even go to jail. You have to swear you won’t tell a soul about any of this. I’m dead fucking serious.”
Propping her hands up on her hips, she glared at me. “Of course I swear. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not an idiot. But please tell me you’re still interested in her. She’s so damn adorable. I already love her. Tell me what your first time was like. I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”
And she’s successfully redirected the conversation.