A cunning grin spread over her mouth as she pushed her wet hair back from her face. “Is that what you’re going to do?”
Automatically, I answered, “Yes.”
“You’re going to go home and take a shower?”
“Addison,” I warned as the look in her eyes changed.
She scanned the area, much as I had seconds ago, and then moved closer to me. In that moment, I should have stepped away, but fate must have had something else in store for me because I didn’t do a damn thing.
“Yes? Sir.”
As professionally as I could with the rain continuing to pour down on us, I tried to impress upon her in a voice that invited no question, “You need to stop this.”
But question it, she did.
“Stop what?”
“This,” I stressed, not wanting to put a name to it but motioning back and forth between us. “Get back in your car.”
“I think about you all the time. I can’t stop.”
Shaking my head, I ran my palm over my wet face. This couldn’t be happening to me. I would not allow it. I knew better.
“Addison, it’s natural to form attachments to your teachers.”
“Is it natural to picture them fucking you?”
I pointed to her car. “Get in, and go home.”
With her focus never wavering, she slowly backed up until she hit the car door. She tipped her head back to the sky, parting her lips and poking her tongue out to collect the water.
The youthful gesture tugged at something inside me, and at the same time, it warred with my mind. Her breasts resembled two ripe apples begging to be picked and devoured, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away for her.
Surely, if there was a hell, I’d go there for what I wanted in that instant.
She brought her head back up and zeroed in on where I stood. “I’ll think of you tonight when I’m in my shower, and Mr. McKendrick?”
I said nothing as she pulled open her car door.
“I’ll be thinking of you, in yours.”
* * *
That night as I climbed into the shower, I did think of my teacher. I pictured him as he’d stood there in the rain, soaked to the bone, with water clinging to his cheeks.
His eyes had roved over my body the second I’d displayed it for him. I wanted him to look at me…to touch me. I turned on the warm water and raised my face to the spray, imagining just that.
He’d wanted me this afternoon and was almost tempted, of that I was certain. It was only a matter of time.
Tick, tick, tock.
* * *
Present…
“Good morning, Addison.”
I sigh as I make my way into our usual meeting place, choosing again not to answer. These sessions are pointless. I’ll never tell him what he wants to hear. I wonder if he already knows that.
“I’d like to talk to you about something different today. Maybe a little bit about Helene.”
He’s waiting for me to react. Like poking a bear with a short stick.
“You and her…there was something there. A bond, wouldn’t you say?”
What does it matter? There’s nothing now, is my initial thought, but that isn’t the truth. I know that.
“Addison?”
What? I want to scream at him. What do you fucking want from me?
But I don’t demand that. I stay still, silent.
One, two, three. One, two three.
“Did her actions…hurt you?” he coaxes.
I hate when people ask me questions they already know the answers to.
I hold his gaze and see him nod. He knows he’s getting somewhere.
“She was there at an important time in your life, that much I know. Like a sister? Or a mother, perhaps?”
I don’t answer, believing it will make all of this go away. I keep hoping that this is all some kind of demented dream, but even in my dreams I can’t escape what happened. I’m just reminded by the most unlikely source—Daniel.
Studying Doc, I see that he’s still patiently waiting.
He’s waiting for an answer. I’m waiting to leave.
“Do you miss her, Addison?”
No, is all I can think. I hate her.
* * *
Past…
The rain had passed by the next morning. I pulled into the parking lot and snuck a quick glimpse of my watch.
Good, I wasn’t late for hurdle practice even though it would just be warm-ups due to the damp ground. Making my way across the track, I spotted Brandon showing off.
“Fuck that, Nicholson! There’s no way you’re gonna beat me at the meet, but you’re welcome to try!” I heard him shout from where I was walking to the bleachers.
That was nothing new. Brandon and Luke Nicholson had been competing since they were freshmen. It seemed, however, that in these last two years, Brandon had been getting the edge every single time.
That meant he was the best, the most popular, and therefore, perfect for me.
Well, perfect if you didn’t include the new candidate, Mr. McKendrick. He’d stopped to talk to Jessica, who went from friend to rival in the space of a well-timed laugh and a perky little wave.
I kept my eyes on the two of them as I stretched out my calves, and when he responded to something she said with a genuine laugh, my heart sped up.
One, two, three.
It was beyond irritating that Jessica, plain old Jessica Garner, had him smiling at her, and I couldn’t even get him to talk to me unless he thought I had car issues.
Until yesterday, Mr. McKendrick barely acknowledged me except to answer a question, and even then it was done in a tone that was less than impressed. I knew he did it to keep me in line, but what he didn’t realize was that it made him that much more of a challenge—and I thrived on a good challenge.
I balanced on one leg and pulled my right one up behind me to stretch out my quad.
As Jessica ran over to me, she called out, “Addy!”
It’s probably a bad thing that I want her to trip and fall.
“Did you see Mr. McKendrick? Oh my god. He’s so hot.”
Pity, she didn’t.
“Nope. Missed that. Plus, he’s our teacher. Gross.”
“Oh, please. He’s sexy, like…like…oh, I don’t know. But he is and so nice.”
“To you, maybe. He’s a total asshole to me,” I reminded her.
She was in our world history class. She had to have noticed the way he treated me.
“Well, yeah, to you he totally is. But you pissed him off from the very beginning.”
The accusatory comment was completely unlike Jessica, but I couldn’t detect any real venom behind it. Maybe it was just in my head.
“How cool is it that he’s been to all of those amazing places? I mean, how unreal would it be to stand in the Parthenon? Oh, and the Colosseum? I’d die.”
Jesus, this girl needs to shut it.
I was already annoyed that he seemed to think she was worth talking to, and I wasn’t. Hearing her moon over him wasn’t helping the issue at all.
“Well, I think he’s amazing.” She paused and turned back to where she’d come from just moments ago. “Ooh, and so does Miss Shrieve, apparently.”
Spinning around, I spotted my hurdle coach and history teacher shaking hands on the other side of the track. Right then, I knew Jessica wasn’t the enemy—no—Miss Shrieve had just filled that position.
Stepping away from Jessica, who was still yammering on about European vacations, I observed the way my coach leaned into Mr. McKendrick and laughed. Her face was angled up at him, and her lips were slightly parted as she placed a hand over her chest. Bringing to his attention, no doubt, her huge breasts.
Breathe, I told myself—one, two three—but it was no use.
My vision blurred, and I could hear nothing but the blood coursing through my veins as he, too, started to laugh.
No, no, no!
Not her, not Miss Shrieve.
Not the one woman
who was always in my way somehow. This couldn’t be happening.
As their introduction came to a close, she noticed us waiting and waved. She started jogging our way and at the last minute called over her shoulder to him, to my teacher.
“My name’s Helene—just so you don’t have to keep calling me Miss Shrieve.”
In that moment, I wanted to hurt her.
* * *
The final warning bell for the day rang, and as the students began to shuffle into my classroom, I wrote along the top of the board, King Henry VIII’s wives. Placing the chalk down, I dusted my hands and was about to face the class when Addison stepped through the door.
Her lips curved as she ran her gaze over me, and any kind of ease I had been feeling disappeared and my guard went up. Addison always added further tension to my class. Her very presence troubled me, and after yesterday in the parking lot, I was even more aware of her audacious behavior.
“Good afternoon, Mr. McKendrick,” she greeted, much the same as the other students, but the look and walk that accompanied her words were unlike any other.
“Afternoon, Addison.”
Instead of sitting down, she made her way over to where I was standing by the board and fingered the strap of her schoolbag—a stark reminder of exactly who she was.
“I see you survived being wet. So did I,” she pointed out, her mouth twitching as she regarded me boldly. She was in for disappointment. She would get nothing from me.
“It was just a little water, nothing too bad.”
Taking a step back, I crossed my arms, hoping to enforce the boundary I was setting. She was about to respond, but before she had a chance to say a word, her name was called. “Addy!”
She turned her head to Brandon, and I found myself studying the creamy skin of her neck and a stray piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail. It fell down onto her shoulder in a soft curl, and before I realized my actions, I had uncrossed my arms and stepped forward as if to touch.
As she rounded back to me, she caught my movement and whispered under her breath, “Meet me at my car this afternoon.”
Choosing not to acknowledge her words, I gestured to the class with my head. “Please take your seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
She answered as politely as any of my other students, but all I heard was—meet me—and all I wanted was to touch her smooth skin.
* * *
“Addy, you gonna come back to my place Friday night?” Brandon asked, as I watched Mr. McKendrick take a seat at the front of the room.
Brandon was your typical all-American teen. Popular and full of confidence, he was the other star athlete of the school. With his short brown hair and seriously ripped muscles, he was every high school girl’s dream, and I had him.
He winked at me, adding arrogantly, “We can celebrate winning.”
My eyebrow rose and then I laughed. Hell, he was right. We both would win. We were the two to beat when it came to track, so the Friday night meet was something I was anticipating.
It was satisfying and exhilarating to know that you were the best.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Perfect! Wear that little red skirt, would ya?”
I knew exactly which one he was talking about. It barely covered my ass and was so tight that it almost cut off my circulation. My mother didn’t know I owned it, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Just like she had no clue that the last time I wore it, Brandon had pushed it up around my hips and fucked me like a raging bull in the front seat of his brand-new Jeep.
“I’ll wear it just for you,” I promised with a slick slide of my tongue along my bottom lip, loving the thrill I got from the tease.
“Addison?” My name was called from the front of the room.
I swiveled in my chair to face my irritated teacher. “Yes, sir?”
“Do you have something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”
No, I thought in a silent battle of wills, but I’d love to know why you didn’t single Brandon out. My eyes held his as I shook my head. That would be a negative.
“In that case, how about you keep your mouth shut, and do your work.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied bitingly and went back to writing down the major facts about Catherine of Aragon.
For the rest of the class, I sat with my mouth closed and my mind whirling. When the bell rang, everyone jumped to their feet and made their way out the door.
Brandon, however, lingered by my desk.
“I have to ask a few questions,” I lied.
Nodding, he bent down to kissed my cheek, and I noticed Mr. McKendrick watching us. His attention was on Brandon as his mouth moved to my ear.
“Hurry, my parents won’t be home for two hours,” he told me, and I couldn’t help the smirk I gave when my teacher’s attention shifted to me.
I kept my eyes on the man at the front of the room as I replied loud enough for him to hear, “Two hours is a long time to play.”
Brandon straightened, unknowing of the private exchange. “Yes, it is. So hurry in here, okay?”
Still focused on my teacher, I agreed. “I’ll only be a few minutes, then I’ll drive over.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see ya there,” he replied, making his way out of the room and leaving me to face the intimidating silence of Mr. McKendrick.
Reaching down beside my legs, I picked up my backpack and felt him track my movements. He had his hands clasped on the top of his desk as he sat there, silent and alert. I packed my books and pens away and stood from my seat.
When I stopped in front of his desk, he said nothing. But when I dropped my bag on to the floor, and the sound reverberated in the empty room, he pushed his chair back and stood quickly.
“Miss Lancaster.”
With one finger, I began to draw circles over the wooden surface of his desk. “Mr. McKendrick.”
“Cut the crap, Addison. Did you need something?” he fumed openly.
“Are you married?”
He shook his head, and his mouth pulled into a tense line. “That’s none of your business.”
“So that’s a no.”
“That is not a no. It is exactly what I said it was, none of your business.”
Rolling my eyes, I continued to trace my finger on top of his desk, liking the feel of the rough wood under my finger.
“Why did I get in trouble today?”
“You know why,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“No. I don’t. Why did I get in trouble and Brandon didn’t?”
“You were talking.”
“So was he,” I fired back, unwilling to let him think I was some ignorant child who didn’t know what was going on.
He let out a deep, frustrated sigh and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Addison, you need to pay more attention in class.”
“I do pay attention.”
“Do you? I don’t think so. You’re so busy talking and flirting that I’d be surprised if you took more than three notes.”
Bending down, I snatched up my backpack and unzipped it to pull out my notebook. Opening it to the day’s work, I showed him how wrong he was and then raised my eyes to his, as if to say, see?
“One day doesn’t prove anything. You need to stop disturbing the others around you.”
“Like you?” I challenged.
“Like Brandon.”
“Jealous?”
Emotions I wasn’t familiar with darkened his eyes, giving him away as they singed me. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Is it so ridiculous? I was jealous of you and Miss Shrieve this morning.”
“You’re out of line, Miss Lancaster. Way out of line. You need to leave.”
I made my way to the door, but before I walked through it, I looked back to where he was standing.
“Meet me at my car. I’ll wait.”
* * *
As Addison left the classroom, I sat down in my seat and adjusted the erection that was now throbbing
like a harsh reminder between my legs.
I felt defeated.
I had come home to be with my father, a man who was slowly fading a little more each day. The same man who’d instilled in me my sense of morality, the difference between right and wrong—yet, here I was, failing him. Just like his heart was.
Addison was a dangerous distraction to a man whose life was in chaos. She was the promise of youth, of being fearless…of being alive. She was everything I couldn’t have and shouldn’t want, but the more she taunted, the more my resolve crumbled.
Temptation had come to visit, and her steely determination would likely destroy us both.
Chapter Four
I waited by my car for an hour, and he never came. In the back of my mind, I’d known that he wouldn’t, but I held out hope that I’d be wrong. By the time four rolled around, I had several text messages from Brandon.
Brandon – Where are u?
I was still in the parking lot.
Brandon – I’m waiting…
Yeah? So was I.
Brandon – Thought u wanted to fuck?
I did…just not him.
It was now four thirty. I’d been waiting for an hour and a half, and Mr. McKendrick hadn’t shown. He was probably watching me, waiting for me to leave.
I liked that idea—that he was watching me—and at the same time, I was aware that wasn’t a normal response. Not that I was surprised because nothing had been normal for me, not since…well, since Daniel.
Deciding it was time to leave, I unlocked my door and got inside. As the engine rumbled to life, a favorite song of mine came over the radio. A smile stretched across my mouth as I cranked the volume up and reversed.
Halfway down the road, I turned off onto a side street. I whipped my car around in an illegal U-turn and pulled alongside the curb.
With the engine still idling, I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and squeezed my eyes shut—one, two, three, one, two, three—and when I opened them, I spotted his black truck as it drove by.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it, I told myself.