Page 129 of Between the Lines

I haven’t even told Penelope, Lucy, and Juliet this news. The second I got the email, I wanted Nathan to be the first to know. When his smile illuminates, I know I made the right choice. He snags my ankle, using it to tug his chair closer to me.

“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

I grin, scrunching my nose. This sense of pride has always been my own—my mom was only proud of me when she got something out of it. Nathan’s pride is in my accomplishments, the ones that make me better from the inside out.

“I still have a few classes to take for the degree requirements, but I could be in a school by this upcoming school year if there are still positions available.”

“Are you happy?” he asks. His thumb smooths along my ankle, sending a shiver up my spine.

That question has so many layers, and for the first time in my life, my heart feels full when I can confidentlysay, “Yes.”

I bite my bottom lip and giggle at the absolute bliss of all of this. Me and Nathan. Nathan and me. The honeymoon phase of whatever it is we’re doing. I don’t want it to end.

The mood snaps in an instant. Nathan sits up taller, and we meet in the middle, mouths colliding in frantic recklessness.

“People are going to start coming in,” I pant, legs spreading on my boss’s desk. His big hands are on the insides of my bare thighs, my skirt rucked up around my waist, his lips making mine swollen.

“Probably.”

He kisses my throat, thumbs skirting dangerously close to where I’m wet, and I have to yank on his neck to pull him back.

His brows pinch, and he looks like a confused puppy dog—which issoout of character that I have to giggle.Giggling while my boss is playing with the hem of my underwear, as I’m spread out on his desk? What have I gotten myself into?

As if on cue, the moment that my thong saws in just the right rhythm to maybe get me there without Nathan’s fingers being on me, there is a sharp knock on his office door. My legs snap closed, trapping his hand that he quickly pulls away. We scramble in a matter of seconds, silently giving each other a once over. I straighten his tie. He smooths my hair back into place.

“Hey, Nate! You in there?”

He blanches. Mouths, “Joe Petersen.” Swallows heavily.

“Coming, Joe. Just wrapping up a meeting.”

The lie comes so easily, and I hate it. We shouldn’t have been kissing in his office in the first place. I don’t want to get him in trouble. My brows pinch together as shame and guilt rack me, but as Nathan heads to open the door, he lifts my chin with his index finger and lays me with a look that, while part guilty too, tells me that we’ll be okay.

I have my bag on my shoulder and edge out of the office as Nathan says, “Thank you for bringing yourconcerns to me, Ms. Benson. I’ll be sure to address them with Rocco Thatcher sometime this week,” as I head out with my head down.

By the time I make it to my classroom home for the week in eighth grade, guilt is tightening in notches like a belt around my stomach. It worsens when I bump into Penelope in the hallway.

“Hey. When did you get here?” I ask, stopping outside her classroom door.

“Oh, I left before you were even up. I’m getting dinner with my brother later and I still have too many tests to grade.”

It’s terrible that my first thought is to text Nathan, right? Even after we were almost caught.

“That’ll be nice. When was the last time you saw Connor?”

She tilts her head from side to side, thinking. “Christmas? We did a brunch with my mom, and then he spent the rest of his break with his dad’s side.”

“It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Yeah. Whatever will youdowith an empty house?” she smiles.

Not be there.

“I was actually thinking about heading to the library tonight.”

“Still trying to find classes for this summer?”

“Yeah.”But not at the library…

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