Page 84 of The Thought of You

“You brownnosing chump.”

“You’re one to talk,” I toss back. “Weren’t you voted teacher’s pet four years in a row?”

“Someone had to take the title. Why not me?” She shrugs, completely unbothered by the superlative that others might consider insulting. “Besides, I was good at being the teacher’s pet.”

“I respect it.” I use the back of my hand to wipe excess ice cream from my mouth.

“Use a napkin, for crying out loud.” She reaches over to the nightstand, plucks a napkin we got from Dairy Queen, and hands it over. “Your favorite teacher—someone we don’t currently work with.”

“Coach Stevens,” I say without hesitation.

“Your old baseball coach?”

I nod as I set my empty cup onto the nightstand on my side of the bed. “We still keep in touch. I even went to his daughter’s wedding over the summer. In fact, he tried to set me up with her a couple of years ago. Said I already felt like family, and he’d be ecstatic to make it official.”

“What happened there?”

“I guess I’m just not into women who are nice to me.” I throw my arm around Addie’s shoulder and give it a squeeze.

“Who is?” she teases back, playing along as voices drift in from outside.

Since we returned with our treats in hand, guests have roamed the halls, likely tuckered out from a day of exploring the history of Savannah and walking along the river.

In the parking lot outside our window, car doors click shut, and cell phones ring. The faint music from the room next door offers a quiet lullaby for us as well.

The world is still awake, thrumming with energy and a heartbeat of its own, as Addie and I come alive in here. We’re getting to know each other in ways that have my blood pumping and my pulse skyrocketing.

I’ve never enjoyed the company of a woman like this, but then again, Addison Lockhart is no ordinary woman.

“Your turn in the hot seat.” I follow Addie’s tongue as she licks her bottom lip and stows her cup away, shifting out of my hold. “Is it true you once dated a professional zombie?”

Her eyes widen. “Where did you hear that?”

“Teacher’s lounge. I hear everything in there. My secret is to pretend to make coffee so the others don’t suspect I’m eavesdropping. They usually forget I’m even standing there.”

“You’re either an evil genius or you’re ridiculous, but I’m confused because you’ve put me in some kind of sexy trance.”

“All of the above,” I proudly offer. “But talk of sexy trances will not get you out of answering this burning question. Did you or did you not go out with a guy who dresses up as a zombie every single day to go work at a haunted house year-round?”

“We did not date,” she asserts.

“I heard they did pop-ups all around Georgia. Did all the traveling turn you off?” I playfully joke.

The tips of her ears turn red as she throws her head back and groans.

“Oh!” I snap. “Did he come to bed in full makeup and costume? Zombies don’t do it for you, do they, Lockhart?”

“You are relentless!” She tosses her hands up. “Okay, here’s the sordid story, and please don’t make me regret telling you this.”

I bounce on the bed, jostling her next to me, but I can’t help it. I’m more excited for these details than I am the World Series.

“I met Drew at a convenience store in Atlanta during a school field trip to the CNN headquarters. He was wearing a suit and tie, and he was totally charming. We hit it off over our love of Skittles, and he asked for my number to keep in touch.”

“Do zombies have phones?”

She glares. “Do you want to hear the rest of this?”

I make a motion with my hand to zip my lips tight.

---