She pulls Renee along, and Renee gives me a timid, sheepish wave. “See you on Monday, Lucy.”
Atticus and I are left standing alone while I try to recover some semblance of dignity, all the while seized with a sense of dread. He seems to sense it too, watching the two women walk away.
“That was unfortunate,” he mutters.
“You know what Renee is like,” I hiss.
“I know.” He nods, folding his arms.
“She’ll tell the whole school.”
“I know.”
“What do we do?” I keep my voice down.
“Hope that she has sense enough not to. Her partner seems to have accepted us quickly enough.” Atticus takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, then pulls me to him. “No use worrying about it now. It’s already done. We can address it if it comes up.”
I know he’s right, but we go home tomorrow.
And now? I’m dreading it more than ever.
* * *
On our first day back to Vautrin, I’m walking on eggshells from the car to my classroom.
I’m stressed, anxious, and extremely sexually frustrated. Atticus and I spent the night holding each other and talking through things. Visiting New Carnegie made me realize just how badly I miss not only my family, but my home. I won’t leave St. Morgan when I’m barely two months into the school year, but can I leave at all when Atticus is here?
The ache in my chest at the very prospect confirms that no, I can’t. I won’t.
Atticus knows I’m struggling with my dislike of the principal and my impatience with the school staff and their refusal to see him as more than an object. Exhausted from our return flight, he held my hand and then stayed with me in my bed while I slept. He’s so sensitive to me and my needs. I didn’t sleep well. Anytime I woke, he was there next to me, roused from standby and peering at me with his glowing white eyes. I’d change positions to get comfortable, and he accommodated me, until his embrace and the reassurance of his presence put me right to sleep.
I want to be with Atticus so badly, but I also don’t want our first time to occur with this giant rain cloud of what-ifs over our heads. Renee saw us together. She can destroy my teaching career with a single word. I’d rather not have mind-blowing sex with the man I care about only to cry in his arms afterwards.
I’m over the tears. I’ve wasted too many already. And I’m tired of being so goddamn worried about my image all the time.
“Nobody better fuck with me today,” I mutter under my breath.
Atticus supervises my car as it automatically parks itself. “It’s going to be all right, Lucy. Whatever happens.”
“I hope you’re right.” I subtly take his hand, squeezing. It’ll be the only touch we can enjoy until we get home tonight.
Atticus nods at me. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We walk side by side into the school as we always have.
Before our trip to New Carnegie, I was always focused on the tasks of the day, determined to knock them all out and come out ahead. Now? All I can think about is this gigantic secret I’m struggling to hide.
I’m falling in love with Atticus.
The realization hit me last night. The connection we have goes far beyond simple attraction. Watching him grow, teach, discover his humanity, and then experiencing his true personality untethered by the restraints of his programming has got me twisted around upside down. I’m already planning just what to do about it. I haven’t told Atticus any of the options I’ve thought out—I’m short on caffeine, patience, and brain-power—but as I sip on my coffee, I’m plotting.
Because after watching him push Amber out of the way of a speeding car, sacrifice himself without thought of his own safety?
Letting Atticus go just isn’t an option for me anymore.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary as we settle into our classroom. Kids start filing in. The few teachers we run into greet me in the same friendly manner. Some of them even say hello to Atticus, which is a good sign. He’s no longer the boogeyman trying to take their jobs.
