Page 30 of Forbidden Lessons

In a car stopped behind me at the intersection as I was driving to work from campus ground.

I’m not imagining it.

Same wire-framed glasses and slack expression.

Same bright red hoody, like he intentionally put a warning sign on himself so people will stay away. And a faded black baseball cap, even though it’s night out.

Shake it off, Haven. People are allowed to travel across town to have pie. It’s not illegal. Just weird.

Looking as creepy as this dude does, though?Thatshould be illegal.

I’m a little unsteady when I put down his coffee cup, but thankfully I don’t spill.

Is it time for my five-minute break yet? Screw it, I’m taking one. I need to pee anyway.

“There you go. Let me know if there’s anything else.”

He snatches my wrist as I’m turning to flee.

“Pie,” he murmurs.

My insides are shivering. “Oh, right.” I tug on my arm, but gently, so as not to anger him. “Sorry. We, uh, have, uh, apple.”

“Don’t like apple.” He stares at me like we’re having a blinking contest. But I’m practically fluttering my lashes in panic, so honestly, he can stop. He’s won.

“Key lime?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Okay, uh…” I’ve literally forgotten what other pies we have.

“Got pecan?”

“Yes! Yes we do!”

“Don’t like pecan.”

Oh my God. I can’t take this anymore. How much shit will I get into if I throw his scalding hot coffee in his face?

A belltingsbehind me. “Haven! Order up!”

The guy releases me, dropping his hand into his lap. “Forget the pie. I’m not hungry, anyway.”

I spin away from him and grab the plate from the pickup shelf, moving so quickly that the burger almost stays behind on the warm steel.

As soon as I’ve set the plate down in front of my customer on the other side of the counter, I yell, “Five-minute break!” to whoever the hell is in the vicinity and hurry for the diner’s back door.

I don’t smoke or drink, but I wish I had a bottle of vodka and a cigarette right now. Tipping my head up, I stare at the stars twinkling above me as I drink in some soothing night air.

This is all Kai’s fault.

He’s turned me into a fucking wreck.

I can talk myself down as much as I want. He’s a ticking time bomb and I don’t know when he’s going to explode in my face. Or how to defuse him.

My break ends up being ten minutes, because it takes that long for me to convince myself that the guy in the baseball cap who may or may not have followed me here is less scary than being broke.

I haven’t always been a model employee, and disappearing during a shift is asking for trouble.

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