Page 7 of Miguel
But one thing I hadn’t planned on when I went out to greet my new student was the man holding his hand. Even though my throat swallowed a gasp, I never lost my smile. Though, I was surprised at his presence because he was…differentfrom the other parents at the school.
He took me aback for a moment. So much leather clad on a gorgeously sculpted body. He was tall, probably a whole head taller than me at least, with light brown skin and black hair slicked away from his face with gel. Dark eyes regarded me with intensity that had a flush rising to my cheeks before I tried to force it away. He was a perfect specimen of a man, that was for sure. With sharp cheekbones and full lips. Likefulllips. They were prettier than mine–than anyone I’d ever seen.
And those lips? Yeah, they kicked up into a smile and I felt enraptured then. Like a bolt of lightning had suddenly streaked across my skin and set every nerve ending within my body alight. I was all too aware of him. Of his presence. Of his masculinity. Of that smile. God, that smile…
And then Señora Laura’s voice cut through my haze, pulling my attention away from the beautiful man and to the real star of the show.
The boy, who I was assuming was his son, considering they looked very much alike, stared shyly at the door of my classroom and the children inside.
“You must be Zeke!” When he didn’t look up in response to my words, I lowered myself to the ground so we were eye level. That drew his attention to me and I watched. His lower lip trembled with a bit of fear, and his eyes were wide. My heart swelled for him. It was always hard for children to come to a new school. Parents thought kids could easily adapt, and while that was true in some cases, it was still a process. Sometimes an arduous one. And I was here to make it as easy as possible for them. I reached out and took his free hand. The movement made him startle, but he didn’t jerk away. He held my gaze as I smiled and explained, “I’m Maestra Lorena Flores. This will be your classroom. I have a desk and cubby waiting just for you!”
He still didn’t respond.
“Do you like music? Dancing?” I did a silly little jig with my upper body, something that brought a tentative smile to his face.
“Zeke doesn’t talk.” That voice slid over me like melted chocolate on a strawberry. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from making a whimpering sound and avoided looking up at the parent.
“How about we let Señora Laura show you to your desk, buddy? Would you like that?”
His lack of response made something tickle in the back of my brain, but I put it aside gently. Later, I told myself. Later I would observe his mannerisms and progress and make my assessment. I released his hand, and Señora Laura replaced it with hers.
“Come on, Zeke.” She tugged at him. “Let’s get you settled with the other kids!” And she pulled him away from his father. I watched with curiosity, always observant to how children acted with their parents, and Zeke didn’t say goodbye. He just threw a short glance over his shoulder before letting himself be guided by Laura into the room and slightly out of sight.
I wanted to speak with his papá alone, but without both Zeke and Laura there to act as buffers, I suddenly felt overwhelmed by his dominating presence. He seemed to take up a lot of space and looked very out of place among rainbows, giant beetles, and other cartoon images.
“I suppose I should formally introduce myself.” I held out my hand, happy with the fact that my voice didn’t shake and my smile remained in place. “My name is Lorena Flores and I’ll be Zeke’s teacher.”
The side of his mouth kicked up in a smirk and his hand enveloped mine. Rough. Callused.Big.I didn’t want to wonder why my mind suddenly drifted–more like nose-dived–straight into a fantasy of all the things he could do with said hands.
Inappropriate, Lorena, I berated myself silently. But then he was smirking at me as if he could tell exactly where my thoughts had wandered, and if that didn’t make me blush…
“Miguel Salvador López,” he replied. “Zeke’s… father.” He stumbled over the word father for a second before he steeled his shoulders.
Ah. So I think I was catching on to the situation pretty quickly. He was new to this father thing.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Our hands were still connected, still bobbing up and down in a lazy shake. Like neither of us had the strength to let go. Like you’d need a crowbar to pry our fingers apart.
What a silly notion.
I released my fingers one by one until he got the picture and let me go too, but I swore I could still feel his touch even when it was gone.
“I’m sure Señora Laura will fill you in about rules and protocol, but I like to be upfront about how things work in my classroom, Señor Lopez.”
“Nena, call me Miguel. None of that ‘Señor Lopez’ shit.”
His crassness made me blink, but so did the cool, amused way he said it. “Alright,Miguel…” He smiled as if to say ‘very good’. I hated how my stomach did a little flip at that. I hated how my mind instantly wondered what it’d be like to hear those words purred in my ear in the throes of passion. “Every morning I wait outside for my kids so that we can file into the classroom together. Punctuality is important to me, because it assures I have every head accounted for. Pick-up time, I wait outside with the children with the other teachers, my students in a line. I don’t let them go off with strangers, so when you fill out the paperwork with emergency contacts and those who are allowed to pick up Zeke, please include information, pictures, and photocopies of their IDs, please.”
He gave a single head shake. “It’ll be a long list to include my whole club and their old ladies…”
I blinked. “Your… what?”
His fingers reached up to tap against the patch of his leather vest, right over the words LOS DIABLOS MC. “My brothers, nena. Any one of them could pick up Zeke at any time.”
“And how many… brothers… are in your club?” I couldn’t stop staring at the emblem of the devil patched onto the front of his vest. It had rising, spiraling horns and a wicked-looking face and feral smile. It was intimidating and promised danger, much like the man before me did.
“A lot.”
“Well, please try to limit the list to five people or less. We take the safety of our children very seriously here.”
