Page 16 of Classroom Confessions

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” Lily nudged my knee with her toes and puckered her lips. “Come on, admit it. You’d totally suck one of them off while the other two banged you blind.”

A vivid image of that very thing appeared in my mind. Sweet heat spread through my limbs. I tried to ignore it—and the knowing look on Lily’s face—but she made it impossible. “Who would you chose to go where?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” It was fun at first, but things were feeling too real, too vulnerable. “I write romance novels. I don’t live them.”

“Nothing says you can’t do both.” Lily took a drink from her glass and shimmied her hips. “Get a little life experience to write about. Nothing wrong with that.”

“I don’t think any man would appreciate his moves in the bedroom being written about in my books.” Even if she made a good point, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t explore sexual fantasies then write about them. It felt crude.

Lily snorted. “It’s not like they’d read it. Most romance readers are women. Cater to them, give them the satisfaction of a good story and a solid fuck to dream about.”

“Okay. Okay.” I clapped my hands over my ears. “Can we change the subject?” I was getting too intrigued by her suggestions. I’d never follow through with them. My imagination would have to be good enough to carry me through the story. It wasn’t like I was ever going to experience England in the 1800s, either, but I could still write about it.

Fitz pranced into the room with the tippy-tapping of his nails clicking on the hardwood. He whined at Lily and jumped onto the couch between us, curling up against my leg.

Lily scratched between his ears. “Fine. We’ll study, but think about what I said. You’ll only be their student for six months. Once you’re out of their classes, all bets are off.”

Six months. It stretched ahead of me, a bleak landscape of sexual want and frustration. I'd have to work it out on my own with my close, personal friend. My brand-new dildo.

At least I had a new story idea to work on. And with Lily’s words burrowing deep into my brain, I knew I’d end up writing my versions of Cole, David, and Ethan into the story. Like she said, it wasn’t like they’d ever read it.

8

COLE

Saturday night, and the best thing I had going all weekend was a trip to the pet store. Good thing I didn’t mind strolling the aisles with my cart, perusing the new collars and leashes that had come in since last month. I couldn’t stay too long tonight, but the pups had eaten an hour ago and would nap for a while.

They wouldn’t need collars since I was fostering until they were old enough to be adopted. Still, the little girl pup would look adorable wearing the collar with the yellow flowers. I’d consider buying it for her when they took her back for her adoption photos.

“Can I help you find something?” A female employee stopped alongside me. She gave me a long look, stopping at my left hand before a bright smile popped out. “I see you’ve found the dog food. Got a new puppy at home?”

“Yes. My daughter has been begging for a puppy. My wife and I finally agreed she was old enough for the responsibility. We’re surprising her tomorrow at her birthday party.” I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I thought I’d buy all the supplies and hide them in the garage.”

The smile slipped, then fell completely. “Oh. That’s great. I hope your daughter loves her new friend.” With those parting words, she scurried off. Probably off to tell her coworkers she’d barely gotten away from the married creep hitting on her in the pet store. She’d probably spin it that I’d started the whole thing and didn’t even have a wife and daughter. Which I didn’t. But I did get tired of women trying to flirt with me. I wasn’t a complete asshole, but sometimes, I wanted to buy my dog food in peace and quiet without having to worry about saying no to a date or three. Okay, that made me sound like an asshole. No wonder women made up stories about having boyfriends when guys asked them out. I’d seen it more times than I cared to in my own classroom and did my best to make sure there were open and honest conversations during my lectures that taught the young men how to accept that no was a complete sentence.

Women should not have to explain themselves. No means no. End of story.

My grip on the cart tightened until my knuckles cracked. No also meant no when it came to a certain student who challenged me inside my own classroom. I’d been tempted to kiss her senseless inside my office. She’d even leaned in, drawing out the sweet torture. Rebecca was the kind of woman I could fall hard for. The kind I tried to avoid. Relationships were meant to be casual. Some other day, I might have accepted the employee’s obvious flirtation.

That wasn’t true. With Rebecca stalking the edges of my thoughts through the day and my dreams at night, I had no room for anyone else.

“I didn’t think you were married.” Rebecca bumped her cart into mine, her lips tight and eyes narrowed. A little Pomeranian sat in the basket, a tiny pirate hat perched on his head. He yapped at me, then flopped down on his side and rolled to show his belly.

“I’m not.” I showed her my left hand. “Didn’t feel like talking, and it seemed like the nicest way to get rid of her.”

“Not everyone is trying to get a date with you.” She scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Trust me, I know.” I pushed my cart past hers and added the yellow collar to my stuff. Who cared if I bought the puppies collars? It made me feel better. “But I do have puppies at home. Six of them.” Like a proud parent, I reached for my phone. “Want proof? I have pictures.”

“So. You’re not married, or never been married?” Rebecca continued the line of questioning with dogged determination.

I tapped into my photos and handed her my phone. “Never been married. Almost was once. She broke my heart.” I’d never had a serious relationship since. Casual dates. Casual sex. Nothing that ever meant anything. She’d ruined me. No one else would have that power again. My heart was staying firmly my own. I’d let the animals at the animal shelter own bits and pieces of me, but never a woman. Never again.

Rebecca swiped through the photos. “They’re adorable. Are they all yours?”

“Fosters.” I pocketed my phone when she handed it back. “I’d offer to let you come see them, but I think I’ve sounded like a creep enough tonight.”

She smiled a little at that and rubbed her dog’s belly. “This is Fitz.”

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