Page 17 of Teaching His Babygirl

Colt

I stayat the school longer than normal doing paperwork and sending emails. People don’t realize how much work being the principal of a school can be. It’s not all punishing students for being bad and making sure that the teachers are on track with their curriculums. Once I’ve fully caught up on everything, and there isn’t a single thing left to do, I decide to head to the gym and get in a workout.

One of the perks of working at Thurston Academy is the top-notch gym on-site that I have twenty-four-hour access to as the principal. I’m not surprised to see Cooper lifting weights. He might be an ex-football player, but he hasn’t let himself go soft now that he’s a high school gym coach. No, he’s as fit as he was when he played for Pittsburg all those years ago.

“Hey, Coop,” I greet, walking to the treadmill for my warmup.

“You’re here late.”

“I had a shit ton of paperwork to catch up on and decided to work out my frustration before heading home.” By frustration, I mean sexual frustration. I love my job and all that it entails… it’s the sexual tension and the desire to head straight for Darlene’s apartment once I leave here that I need to work out of my system.

I set the treadmill to a faster pace than my standard warmup, starting at a flat outrun. After a few minutes, I up the speed until my mind is cleared of everything except my muscles' stretch and pull as my feet rise and fall.

I’m sweating profusely by the time I finally slow the speed for my cooldown. I move on to weights and realize that I’m alone. Cooper must’ve noticed that I wasn’t good company and gave me the privacy I obviously needed.

I lift until my muscles burn, but my need to be near Darlene hasn’t eased at all. Just that innocent touch under the lunch table today was enough to drive me insane. I shower off and head home. Barely keeping my steadfast resolve to stay away from her as I turn the opposite direction of her home.

I make it ten minutes before texting her, and I’m honestly surprised I lasted that long.

Chapter Nine

Darlene

My phone pingson my way home, and I wonder who it is. No one here has my number and Charity would still be at cheer practice so it can’t be her. I wait until I’m inside my apartment to check it. I pull out my phone and see the text is from ‘daddy.’

Thinking about you, is all it says.

I smile, not even upset that at some point this weekend he managed to add his phone number into my contacts without me knowing. I kick off my shoes and put on some cozy clothes before responding. My mind going over dozens of things to say, but only one thing keeps running through my mind… how much I miss him.

I miss you, daddy.

No sooner than I’ve sent the message, my phone rings. My heart skips a beat, and a warm lightness spreads through my body.

“Hello,” I greet.

“Hi, babygirl. I don’t like you missing me when we could be together,” he growls.

I know how he feels, which is the only explanation for my next words. “You could always come see me,” I offer, feeling bold.

“What about the rules?” he asks warily as if he doesn’t trust that I know what I’m asking for.

I do. Even though I’m skating a fine line between keeping things casual and at the club or at the very least keeping our relationship out of the weekday grind, I can’t seem to find it in me to care. I’m realizing that just because it’s a school night doesn’t mean we can’t be together. We’re not at work, and no one will know. Why deny ourselves?

Right?

“Seeing you on a weekday isn’t against the rules as long as we are professionals at work. Anything goes on our off hours…”

“Anything?” he growls possessively.

“Why don’t you come over and find out?” I tease.

I give him my address, though I have a feeling he already knows it. He promises to see me soon, and we hang up. I look around my apartment. Crap. I should have asked to go to his place. Mine looks like I haven’t been living here for three weeks. I haven’t even started unpacking the living room, and my kitchen looks like I’m living out of boxes—because I am.

Twenty minutes later, there is a knock on my door. I open it to find Colt looking sexy as heck in a pair of dark wash jeans and a t-shirt that’s stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest. I lick my lips taking him in. It’s the most casual I’ve seen him except for his sweatpants at his house yesterday morning.

He looks darn sexy in his buttoned-up suits, but he is a sight to behold in casual jeans and a fitted t-shirt.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he asks with a chuckle.

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