Page 19 of Taming His Teacher

“Hey.” Will walks over and takes my shoulders in his hands. “I know this isn’t your idea of a dream house, but we’ll make it ours. I swear.”

I nod and his hands slide up my neck to grasp my face in his hands. “At least we should get to enjoy our wedding night, right?”

Desperate hope claws at me, spurred on by Will’s charm in the close space. He can be so handsome and charismatic. And surely the sex will get better as we learn how to press each other’s hot buttons, get to know what turns each of us on. I could leave one of my books out for him to happen upon and hopefully he’d take some notes. Try out some of the things I think I’d like; some restraints here, a bit of spanking there. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe if we try really hard… “Yeah.”

By the time I’m standing in front of my first period seniors on Monday morning, word has spread around campus that Will and I have tied the knot. I get a lot of good-natured joshing from the boys. But there’s no gentle teasing or even a muttered congratulations from Shep.

It’s not unusual for his face to be clouded over, but this morning he looks like he’s survived a monsoon. Tired, rumpled, miserable. Is that how I look? It’s how I feel. I want to take him aside and explain what’s happened, but that would cross far too many boundaries. All I can do is shoot him a pleading glance.Please, please understand. If I didn’t, I would have had to leave. I can’t afford to leave, to lose everything.

He doesn’t even give me a chance after class, grabbing his things and heading out the door without his usual dipped chin, not meeting my eyes. I want to go after him, but for what? We’re not allowed to acknowledge whatever it is between us, so we definitely can’t talk about how I’ve ruined any chance of anything ever happening.

He doesn’t talk to me for a week.

* * *

Shep

She wouldn’t. She didn’t.That’s been my mantra for a week. The only thing that kept me from losing my motherfucking mind through workouts in the gym, three-hour practices on the ice, endless pages of reading, interminable lines of translations and never-ending problem sets. It pounds in my ears and through my veins as I stalk across campus, stomp up and down stairs and slam through doors.She wouldn’t. She didn’t.

She would. She did. That’s the only explanation for why Erin married Will. Shotgun wedding. Not that she’s confirmed it, but that must be why. Must be.

I’ve locked myself in the stall of the bathroom in the basement of Leonard, hoping Tennant and Fisk get the fuck out of here sooner rather than later. I managed to keep my breakfast down all through class even though every time I saw that fucking ring on her finger my stomach clenched around the stack of waffles I ate this morning.

She married him.

It’s ridiculous, but I always thought there was some way for us to be together. Fantasies of getting her alone after I had my diploma in hand and telling her I love her. She’d throw her soft little body against me, the spring smell of her hair drifting into my nostrils, her head not even coming up to my chin because she’d be wearing those flat purple shoes. She’d sayI love you, too. I’ve loved you since the day I saw you. I’ve thought about you every day.

From there, my thoughts go off-kilter. Dirty. Really dirty. Like how she’d tell me she’d gotten herself off with one hand while she graded my tests with the other. That she’d touched herself in the shower after watching me out on the soccer field or coming off the hockey rink. But she wouldn’t, because she’s a fucking professional, and fingering your pussy while thinking about your student is against whatever code of ethics you want to adhere to like whoa.

But now when I picture her small hand slipping into the navy blue velvet pants she wore once before winter break—and hasn’t again, I’m guessing because she looks damn good in them and it’d been hard for some of the guys to hide their, uh, admiration—it’s ruined by the hand having a goddamn gold band on her ring finger. Even though I bet she masturbates with her right hand. She’s right-handed. I’ve always thought of her…

It doesn’t matter, you ridiculous fuck.She’s married. Probably because she’s having a baby. Will Chase’s baby. That’s not some intoxicated Vegas-weekend thing you can get annulled. Erin’s not going to leave the father of her baby. Any odd hope I had of being with her is gone. The door to the bathroom swings closed with a heavy thunk. A good thing, because I can’t keep it in anymore. I flip up the seat and crouch on my knees, puking up my guts because everything just got so much worse.

Chapter 6

Erin

The first twinge hits in my AP Calc class. I’m explaining how to construct a Taylor series for sin(x), my back turned to my students, my writing bleeding onto the second half of the board. Suddenly my breath catches while a screwdriver’s punched through my pelvis. It passes quickly and I hope none of them noticed the slight pitch forward of my shoulders, my chalk-free hand flying to my abdomen.

I continue the lesson, attempting to hold their attention on the day before spring break. Best of luck to me. But the end of the year and therefore the AP test are so close they can smell it, so most of them are half-focused despite the beaches and summer homes that await them. I fully expect drubbing heels and dropped pencils all day.You’re not the only ones looking forward to getting out of here, fellows.

The clock ticks interminably to nine and then it’s time to wish them a happy break and remind them of the easy assignment I’ve given them so their brains don’t turn to sun-shriveled raisins by the time they get back.

“What are you doing for break, Miss Brewster?”

“I will be heading to Nova Scotia for a week.”

Not my idea of a dream honeymoon, but Will said he’d always wanted to go. When I had asked if we could stop on Prince Edward Island to see whereAnne of Green Gableshad been written, he’d laughed.We need to find you some real books to read, Erin.Can’t wait ’til he discovers the stack of romances I keep under my side of the bed.

“With Mr. Chase?”

“Yes, Mr. Caldwell. Married people do generally travel together.”

Caldwell laughs at my dry humor. I can see he’s trying to determine whether further mockery would get him in trouble. An arch of my eyebrow and a tip of my chin warn him off.

“Have fun at lacrosse camp. Please do your best not to get eaten by a manatee.”

The boys filter out and I wish them fun or good luck depending on their plans. Shep’s held back, which wouldn’t have been unusual a few months ago. But since Will and I got married, he’s been distant, avoiding me. I don’t blame him. It’s probably for the best.

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