Page 7 of Everything I Desire

Stacey knows a little about our past, obviously not our whole past, but she knows enough. She knows that I don’t date much, and if I do it doesn’t really go that far to be considered serious. No one compares to Porter Jackson. Makes it hard for any man to make it through a few dates when I’m constantly comparing them to a ghost of my past.

I walk in the conference room behind Stacey, which gives me a moment to appreciate the man Porter has become. He has a short beard and keeps his hair a little shaggy on top with his brown hair side swept and styled to one side. In high school he had long hair but this shorter cut looks good on him. His whole body is muscles and tattoos. He looks even better than he does in my dreams.

Walking in behind Stacey also affords me to witness the moment he sees me, and realizes I am one of Kayla’s teachers. His eyes grow wide and his jaw just about hits the floor. He starts to say something but immediately snaps his mouth shut. I swear I hear him sigh as he rubs his jawline.

“Ms. Harper!” Kayla runs up to me and gives me a tight hug. She whispers, “I missed you the last couple days. Porter thinks taking some time off to be with him is supposed to make me feel better and help us bond.” Her eye roll is one to rival all teens.

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. I can’t wait to have you back in class.” I look over at Porter who seems to have just put two and two together, that I’m the teacher Kayla spends her evenings with. His eyes are glued to me as I move around the largetable, and I can feel his stare roaming over my body. This is going to be one long meeting.

“Porter, this is my homeroom teacher Ms. Harper. She’s amazing,” Kayla says beaming.

“We’ve met before.” He turns to face me, “It’s nice to see you again Ade- Ms. Harper.” He catches himself before calling me by my first name.

Stacey calls the meeting to a start and begins going over the current situation for the teachers, asking what we can do to assist Kayla in this time. The whole meeting goes by and every time I glance at Porter I can see he’s looking at me. Still.

His gaze has been on me since the moment I walked into the room. He alternates between a look of disbelief that I’m sitting in the same room as him, and a look that makes me think he might just jump over this table and kiss me. I know that look all too well, and I used to love being on the receiving end of it.

“Well, Mr. Jackson, it seems like the teachers are more than willing to accommodate for Kayla during this transition. Do you have any questions?” Stacey asks.

He shakes his head, his gaze finally breaking free from me. “I’m sorry, uh, yes. All of it seems great. I’ve left my business cards with Stacey so please grab one and call me if there is anything I can do.”

All the staff stands to shake his hand. I’m at the end of the line and decide to slip out prior to actually having to touch Porter. After having his eyes onmy body again, I couldn’t handle actually touching him. Even if it's in a professional gesture.

I head back to my classroom to pack up, eager to get home on this Friday night and try to get myself under control after seeing Porter again for the first time in ten years.

My body hasn’t forgotten one single moment with him. Time has done his bodya lotof favors. It leads me to wonder if he has a wife, a girlfriend, his own kids? The only gossip around town about Porter was about the court cases so I’m left completely in the dark about his life.

With any luck, I won’t have to spend too much time around him. I don’t know if I could keep my distance, physically or emotionally.

I twirl his business card in my fingers. It looks like he runs his own business out of an auto shop where he restores old cars. The irony of what he and my Dad have in common isn’t lost on me. My Dad spent years completely restoring an old Mustang, something that he and Porter could have found common ground on.

It takes a lot of convincing myself that I shouldn’t play thewhat ifgame, or imagine what our life could have been.

I’m still working on that as I leave the school and go out to my car, so ready for a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine.

As I approach my car, I hear yelling.

“No, Uncle Porter! I’m not doing it. I’m not going back to that house. You can’t make me.” Kayla isswinging her arms wildly, gesturing, as she yells. I didn’t miss the emphasis she put on the word uncle, like he objected to being referred to simply as Porter.

“Kayla, please. I don’t know what to do here. I’m just trying my best,” Porter says softly as his head hangs in defeat.

I step toward Porter’s truck, which happens to be parked next to my car. Of course. “Hey, is there anything I can do to help here?”

“Ms. Harper! Please let me come stay with you? Please? I don’t want to go back to my house.” Tears are falling down her face.

“Why don’t you give your uncle and I a moment to talk?” I hand her my keys. “Go listen to whatever you like.”

She takes my keys, giving me a silent nod. Her shoulders slump forward, a clear sign she’s stressed out and feeling defeated.

Once I hear the door open and shut, and the engine turn on, I step further forward, toward Porter.

“Porter.”

His head whips back up to look at me. “Adelaide. I’m so lost here” His eyes are dimmed and sad.

God, it’s like a gut punch to see this look on him. I remember so many nights we’d meet at the lake and he’d appear with this exact look before burying himself into me.

“What is going on? Why is she so upset all of a sudden?” I ask, trying to ignore the need to pull him in myarms and comfort him as I did all those years ago after a fight with his parents.

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