“What time you getting off today?”
“I’ve got a school board meeting. It’s expected to go late, and then I’ve got grading to catch up on since I missed this weekend.”
He huffs out a breath. “What about tomorrow?”
“Um, I’ve got practice?” I don’t know why I question it. Maybe because I’m sure he already knows I’m lying, since Jules probably gave the club the damn practice schedule.
“Darlin? Stop being a troublemaker. I’m just going to keep asking when you have time for me, and if you keep coming up with excuses, I’m just liable to show up whenever the hell I want. And if tomorrow and the next day are anything like I’m feeling for you right now, I’d be stationed at your desk all the damn day.”
Crap, he went and made my panties melt.
“Stop playing hard to get.” He says it with zero menace in his voice, and I swear I can hear the smirk on his lips.
I react like every person does when told that: I deny it. “I’m not.”
Am I? Crap, I am. Though I’m not sure why. He’s already had me—well, a part of me. And I liked it a lot. Was I worried that he was going to not want to do it again? Of course I was. For half the morning, I was worrying about it being a onetime deal. But he wouldn’t be calling if it was just once. Even though we didn’t have the “official” boinking going on, we had a semi-boink. He didn’t even get off. It was all about me, even when we slept. If it was just sex for him, he would have pushed harder, I think, or put on the charm a bit more. I doubt he didn’t realize what an airhead I can be once he has his hands and mouth on me. I’m basically a willing victim at that point. But he never pushed over the line.
When are you going to see what I see? What he sees? You’re a freaking catch, and you finally found the one who’s willing to take his time to reel you in. Hook. Line. Sinker.
“Yeah, you are, but I’m used to it.”
I laugh at his words because they’ve never been truer. The man has never curbed his flirting when it comes to me. And the more I think about it, the more I realize heonlyflirted with me, or tried to, when I was around. Not that I gave him much to work with before, but things have changed. Not sure if it was the race, or maybe the silent gym partners we became as we always seemed to work out at the same date and time. Which was probably not random luck, as I’ve told myself before. Hell, maybe something happened that night I found myself in a sex club. It could have been a very shitty night, but he showed up and made me smile. Even before the girls arrived to turn my crap night into a good night, he already had.
“And you’re worth it.”
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
I drop the phone at his words, and it takes a second for me to realize it till I hear him yelling at me through the line. I fumble for a second to get it turned the right way. “Sorry, I’m here.”
“What was that? What happened?” The panic in his voice makes me feel bad, and my face heats because I know I need to tell him the truth. No matter how much I want to shrivel up and die from it.
“I dropped the phone.”
I say it low, but I know he hears me. He says nothing for a second, but then he does, and I just know his ego grew a damn foot. “You did what?”
I grumble but don’t repeat myself. “You heard me. Now shut it. Look, I actually had something to ask.”
“Shoot, baby.”
Now I’m all nervous, but for a different reason. He might hate this, and it might bring up bad memories, but I think it would be great for the kids. “I’m having a few friends stop in this week to talk to my class about what they do. Consider it a career day of a sort. I want to show them a wide range of what they can do besides the normal stuff. I was wondering if you could, um, talk to them about the military. If you, ah, if you want to, that is. I mean, if you don’t, that’s fine. I know you and your dad were in, and you both seemed to like it from what you said the other night, but if you don’t want to, no biggie. I can always ask someone—”
“You going to let me talk, or you going to talk me out of it?”
I clamp my teeth on my bottom lip and nod, then remember he can’t see me. “You can talk,” I squeak.
“Thanks,” he huffs, and I can imagine his eye roll. “Would love to come talk to your kids, babe. I’m proud that I served and will be happy to talk about it with them, giving them all of it and not just the recruiter speech. Did it a few times back at my old school when I was both in and out of the Army.”
I smile at that. I like that even though he lost someone close to him, he doesn’t let it sour the job he had and his love for his country. I’ve volunteered enough at the hospital to see a few vets come back from a war all antigovernment and yelling at anyone who would listen that the military is full of shitheads and people who want to get fucked over, and not in the way they’d enjoy.
“What day you want me there?”
“Ah, I guess tomorrow afternoon, around one-ish.” No use in putting it off. Besides, I don’t doubt that he’ll show up on his own if I don’t attempt to put things on my terms.
“That going to be enough time for you to get your schedule in order?”
Be still my heart, the man is worried about my class schedule.
Is there anything hotter than a person recognizing the planning that goes into getting a schedule together? Probably. Like a ton, but I think that might have been the sexiest thing any person has ever asked me. No one has cared about my schedule before. Just because I’m a teacher doesn’t mean I don’t do hours of prepping and planning. Sure, I’ve gotten into a routine, and I’ve done this long enough that I’ve learned to go with the flow, but the fact that he’s concerned gets me smiling as if it was the first time someone who wasn’t my dad called me pretty.
