Page 36 of Lesson Learned

The craft of whoever put the books together is a study in pure artistry. Add that to the wonderful prose nesting inside, and I could stay here for hours if I didn’t have a class to prepare for.

Even so, I linger until there’s barely ten minutes left before the first bell after lunch will ring.

I’m heading towards the door when I see Paisley. She has one book clamped between her upper arm and ribcage, another open and resting on the edge of the shelf in front of her.

She’s situated between two stacks, the books providing ample cover from any prying eyes. Pure temptation.

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But my feet lead me to peruse the shelf behind her as I move closer and closer. Finally timing it so I step back and ‘accidentally’ bump her.

“Sorry,” I murmur, watching her turn, a smile exploding onto her face when she sees it’s me. Or maybe it’s just an automatic mirror reaction to mine.

“I didn’t know teachers used the library,” she whispers, her expression flickering between confusion and delight. “Do you need to brush up on your Shakespeare?”

“Sure,” I say with a laugh. “How else do you think I run classes? I read the text ten minutes before you guys arrive, then teach it verbatim. Keeps it fresh.”

“Wow. Classy.” She angles her body closer to mine. “And how many years did you spend in tertiary education, just to bluff your way through each lesson?”

“Too many years.” I roll my eyes. “I should probably demand a refund.”

She smiles, all thoughts of book selection disappearing. I feel that same energy buzzing from her, drawing me closer, magnetic.

“And what brings you here?”

Movement catches my eye and I glance behind me but it’s just someone passing by outside. The building’s so high set, they’re only visible above the shoulders. I turn back to find her eyes glued to my chest. When she sees I caught her gaze, she blushes.

“You realise you’re given study periods,” I say, “so you don’t need to cram in the library during your lunchtime break.”

“Oh, really?” Her smile turns a hundred watts brighter. “Please mansplain the school timetables to me. I’m sure my tiny female brain doesn’t understand.”

“Any time, love.” I spread my arm across the top shelf. “See, you have your five main subjects—”

She mock slaps me on the upper arm, grinning broadly.

“Did you just hit your teacher?”

Paisley gives a delightful little snort. “Better than some of the things I’ve been doing with him.”

I go very still, then make an enormous show out of glancing around to see who might be watching.

“I’m so sorry,” she mutters, colouring such a deep shade of crimson, there can’t be any blood left to be pumped by her heart. “My mouth forgot to check with me before saying that. I didn’t mean…”

She appears genuinely distressed, and I put my hand on her lower back, meaning to offer reassurance, but causing her to jump.

The book under her arm slips and I leap to catch it, flipping from the title, which I don’t recognise, to the back cover description. “Didn’t realise Phantom of the Opera retellings were part of the curriculum.”

It’s snatched from my hands and tucked under her arm again. “Didn’t realise we weren’t allowed to stray outside of what our staid old English teachers set us as required reading.”

“Staid?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. “Old?”

“Shh,” comes a scolding voice from near the desk. Probably my good old friend June, getting back to work.

“Well, older than me,” Paisley says in the tiniest whisper. “And haven’t you racked up one ex already? You must be…” She taps a finger against her lips and tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as she stares up and down my body.

The thoroughness of her exploration feeds straight into my ego. I can sense the weight of her gaze as it glides over every inch of my flesh, suffusing me with desire.

“Hm?” I arch my eyebrow even higher, moving a step closer so she’s effectively cornered. My voice drops to its lowest rumble. “Are you scared to put a number on me?” I bend my forefinger, touching the knuckle to the middle of her blouse, running it halfway down her sternum until it rests just beneath her bra.

Paisley’s pupils enlarge, her hips sway towards me.

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