Page 15 of Christmas Criminal

He shrugs. "I mean, you're alright."

"The math teacher thinks I'm cool," I say, in a singsong voice.

He rolls his eyes. "Alright, forget I said anything."

I grin. If I knew him better, I'd take his face in my hands and plant a big old kiss on his cheek.

That is, if he's the sort of person who can put his money where his mouth is. There have been far too many guys who have given me a similar speech but haven't been able to back up their words with actions.

We spend the rest of the day hopping between computers, filling our silence with easygoing chatter as we knock out one computer after another. When we're finally done, Nick signs my timecard with a flourish as we walk out of school together.

Although I'm excited to be back home with my sister, there's a part of me that's dreading leaving. I tell myself it's the three-hour drive home.

"So, I meant to tell you earlier. Next weekend the theater kids are going to be in school for dress rehearsals for the winter play. I didn't know if that would bother you, but I wanted to give you the option to switch up days if it does."

I purse my lips, debating this.

It doesn't exactly sound like my idea of fun.

But maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to actually have a few days off. As much as I appreciate Nick being willing to work with my weekend schedule, I'm realizing that doing thisandsigning in for work over the next five days is a little rough.

I let out a long breath. "Do you want to do a week of nights, maybe? And if there's no one here the weekend after, we can try for that?"

He nods. "Sure. That works for me." He leans against the side of my car as I fish my keys out of my purse. "I'll have to dream up some fun weeknight community service activities we can get into."

I laugh, mirroring his pose and leaning against my car. "Whose definition of fun are you using?"

He winks at me again, and my throat goes dry. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

I find myself wishing for the kind of fun we could have without any clothes on. The kind where his stubble scrapes against my skin and his fingers dig into the flesh of my ass.

"So you'll text me what sort of schedule works for you?" he asks.

I nod, knowing I should be opening my car door and slipping inside right about now.

But this moment feels like the end of a first date. That nervous dance when you're trying to figure out if the other person wants to kiss you or not. He's standing close enough that I can smell him–that smoky s’more scent that has my mouth watering.

He clears his throat, and something about the way he takes a very intentional step back from me tells me that he feels this tension, too.

"Well, drive safe," he says, patting the roof of my car.

"Yeah, I will."

He nods, turning on his heel and heading straight for the only other car in the parking lot.

4

NICK

Monday, December 2nd

Isit at my desk, running my hands over my face as the bell rings and my post-lunch seniors filter in. This class is particularly rowdy this year. Usually after lunch, the kids get a little sleepy and slow, but this year I somehow got the perfect storm in this class. A group of friends who eat lunch together and get themselves all riled up before having to settle down for math.

My energy is running low, mostly because I was up half of last night thinking about a certain criminal in a very inappropriate way.

The look she gave me before she finally got in her car was loaded. Her pink lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy. We've gotten to know each other just enoughto have rosy views of each other.

I try to be the sort of person who gives the benefit of the doubt, mostly because I work with kids and a lot of times assuming good intentions gets you further than brandishing sharp punishments for the sake of keeping up your authority.

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