Page 104 of Prickly Romance

“Must everything be a fight with you?”

“If you’re the one hurling instructions? Yes.” She tilts her head sassily.

I smile for a beat, but quickly coach my face into a scolding look. “The sooner you sit, the faster I will be gone.”

She remains standing.

I walk a few paces away. “Perhaps I should attend your class with you. Mr. Howel has been eagerly awaiting a collaboration.”

Dejonae lunges for my hand and holds on. “I’ll sit.”

I smile while my face is turned away. By the time I spin around, she is already seated on the bench. Her brown eyes dart between mine, apprehensive and searching.

“You do not need to be so nervous,” I say.

“You’re being quiet and secretive.”

“I am always quiet.”

“Yes, but this is different. I can feel you… planning something.” She juts her chin at me. “What’s in the bag?”

“I know what I want as reward,” I say, not answering her question.

“What?”

“May I lift your dress?”

She sucks in a shaky breath. If she had not been seated, her knees might have given out.

I slide the strap of my bag down my shoulder and open the flap to reveal the first aid kit inside. Her eyes widen. I crouch to one knee, letting my trousers sink into the ground. Moving like this causes my cell phone to bunch in my pocket. I pull it out and hand it to Dejonae to keep her hands occupied.

Next, I set the box on the bench beside her. The kit makes a soft click as I unsnap the lid and reveal the medicine I brought from home.

“You probably did not care for your wound yesterday,” I say in a lightly scolding voice.

“I…”

My eyes dart up and I hit her with a stern gaze. “You should have let me take you to the hospital.”

“That would have been too much of a fuss,” she mumbles.

I stare at her for a long while before looking down at her dress. “Is that the only reason?”

“I… didn’t want Niko to feel like what she’d done was a big deal.”

“But it was a big deal,” I murmur. My fingers slide along the smooth edge of her hem. The fabric is cotton and soft to the touch.

“She’s a child. She’s bound to make mistakes. It’s called ‘growing up’.”

“Other children can make mistakes and walk away from them. Niko is different. She cannot.” I begin to roll up Dejonae’s dress.

Heat burns the back of my neck. Undressing her feels too intimate. Too much like the dreams I have had lately. I am breathing hard by the time I roll her skirt halfway to her knees. When I glance up, she looks almostshaken, her face flushed and her eyes glinting.

I keep talking to keep us both distracted. “Brushing issues under the rug and smothering Niko in love might be your way of doing things. But it is my job to prepare her for the dangers of the world.”

“You don’t think the world will teach her that lesson by itself?” she argues.

Gone is the dewy-eyed girl who makes me forget about our age difference, our cultural differences and the fact that she is, currently, my employee. In its place is the Dejonae who will fight passionately for what she believes in.

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