Page 87 of Just This Once

“Oh, shit.” Whip sighed. “I’m so sorry, Prim. This is all my fault. I never should have stepped in. I fucked this all up for you.” He braced his hands on the counter and then pushed offit sharply. “God, I could kill that prick Pokey Lambert. What an asshole.”

“It’s not your fault. I really should have talked with my principal before I made that call to CPS—like you had said. I made a complete mess for Robbie and his family. I feel terrible.” My hands wrung together. “It also wasn’t Mr. Lambert who complained about the shoes. I don’t know who did, but Principal Cartwright did confirm that it was someone else.” I shrugged. “Guess I made some enemies somehow.”

Fury contorted his handsome features as his head whipped up. “I doubt that.”

Whip stood in front of me, his hands rubbing down my arms. “You did a good thing—trying to protect your students. I’m glad he’s okay, but sorry that it worked out the way it did for you.”

I looked at my bare feet. “Me too.”

“Think about what I said?” The hope in his voice was a knife to my chest. “You could work somewhere else and just stay here. Do you really have to teach?”

We stayed, locked together in an awkward embrace for what felt like hours. Finally, I took a breath. “I’m a teacher, Whip. I can’t fathom not working with kids every day. Being surrounded by learning and laughter and students? I don’t know who I am without that.”

His eyes closed and he nodded in defeat. “I know.”

“I’ll find something.” God, I hoped I wasn’t lying to us both. I hated this feeling—anyfeeling where my ribs poked and my gut churned. Escape was the only logical answer. It had always worked before. “I think I’d like to take a hot shower. Rinse the day off and settle in. Would that be okay?”

He hesitated like maybe he wanted to say more, but instead he clamped his mouth shut and nodded. “Of course. I’ll finish up out here.”

“Thanks.” I hurried past him and went straight to the primary bedroom before I dissolved into a mess of snot and tears. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart.

I couldn’t even explain what I was feeling. The pleasure in him wanting me to stay. The hope laced in his deep voice when he offered solutions that kept me close. Craig had never done anything apart from expect me to follow him around and keep quiet about all the ways in which I didn’t quite measure up.

But wasn’t this the same thing? Leaving my passion for teaching simply to stay close to a man? The fact Whip was the best sex of my life didn’t change the fact that whatever intense emotions I was fighting were partly because of my fears. Whip was passionate, reckless. He tended to leap before he ever looked, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe I could do the same.

Instead, I lacked any safety net and had landed flat on my ass.

If I stayed only for him, all that Emily-ness my mother was so happy to see again could be lost forever. If I fully jumped in with Whip, I knew my feelings for him would only deepen. Falling in love with him felt like the most natural thing in the world. If I allowed myself to do that, my emotions would be laid bare—emotions that he could inevitably use to hurt me somehow. How long would it be before he expected me to change? Hadn’t he already started by asking if I still had to teach?

THIRTY-TWO

WHIP

I stoodin my kitchen and stared at the countertop, listening to Emily cry as soon as she made it to the bedroom. The door had barely clicked behind her when a muffled, gut-wrenching sob escaped her.

She was leaving.

The kitchen swirled and narrowed around me—the soft lights blurring at the edges until it was just me and the distance to her. I couldn’t stand the helpless, broken feelings coursing through me. I knew Emily had said she was tired and wanted to shower. She probably didn’t want me to see her cry but...

I slapped the dish towel onto the countertop and strode down the hallway toward the primary bedroom. Behind the closed door, I could hear her muffled sobs despite the running water.

I quietly entered the room. Light peeked out from underneath the bathroom door, illuminating my path. Outside the bathroom door, her shaky breath was even more apparent. I raised my fist to knock.

Doubt swirled in my mind.

You’re holding on with both hands, and she’s leaving anyway.

It was always too good to be true.

You were never good enough to keep her.

My gut lurched and my jaw flexed. “Fuck it.”

Without knocking, I twisted the door handle and entered the bathroom. The shower was running, and through the mirror, I immediately spotted Emily’s small figure huddled on the shower floor, shoulders shaking.

I made quick work of stripping off my shirt and discarding my jeans and underwear. Without a word, I opened the shower door and stepped in behind her. Lowering to the floor, I folded myself over her and let my shoulders take the brunt of the hot water as it pounded down from the showerhead. My legs and arms cradled her as sobs racked her frame.

I didn’t know the right words to say. I didn’t know how to make anything better. All I could show her was that I was there.

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