Page 42 of Taming His Teacher

I wince when I’m answered with more puking. When it stops, a meek voice follows. “Yeah?”

“Oh, Ellie.” I ease the stall door open since she hasn’t locked it. She’s slumped against the far wall, her usually polished chestnut skin dusky and her hand resting limply over her midsection. “How can I help?”

“Water?”

I take my half-full cup and dump it out, wiping off a lipstick smudge before refilling it. I’d get her a new one, but I don’t want to leave her alone. She sips at it gratefully when I give it over.

“Was it something you ate?”

She regards me warily. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s early so we haven’t told anyone yet, but I have been sick as a dog. Morning sickness, my ass.”

As if to prove her point, another wave of nausea hits her, and I crouch beside her and rub her back while she heaves. Poor Ellie. I hadn’t been sick during my pregnancy. What little of it there was. “You should go home. Can I walk you?”

“Cole’s here. Could you find him? He’ll take me. But could you do me a favor?”

“Of course, whatever you need.”

“I’m supposed to stay and supervise cleanup. Would you mind—”

Yeah, she needs to go home, poor thing.

“No problem. I’ll get Cole. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I refill the cup of water before I run out the door, on the lookout for Ellie’s husband. I’ve met him several times before and I recognize his spiky blond head and rocker-meets-prep-school aesthetic standing by a wall of angry black and red oils, talking to the artist.

“Excuse me, Mr. Luciani, would you mind if I stole Mr. Fishburne for a minute?”

I stand on tiptoes to tell Cole about Ellie, then lead him to the downstairs bathroom in time to hear Ellie get sick again. He bangs the door open and rushes the stall, dropping to his knees at her side.

“Again? I’m sorry you’re so sick, babe.”

The soles of his boots line up with the soles of her sandals, and his sweetness and concern make me ache, his murmured words drifting soft to where I shouldn’t be listening in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but unless you need me…”

“No. Thanks for your help, Erin. I appreciate it. Cole should be able to take it from here. He’s used to it.”

They have wan smiles for each other and Cole holds her tight around her shoulders before he plants a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay. Don’t worry about cleanup. I’ve got it covered and my lips are sealed.” I toss a quick wave in their direction and as the heavy door swings shut behind me, I hear Cole say, “We are going to have the best damn baby in the whole world, El. I promise.”

Envy twists in my stomach. It’s not Ellie’s fault, nor is the universe plotting against me, throwing a reminder of everything I don’t have in my face, but it still hurts. And on tonight of all nights. This sucks. I don’t mind doing a favor—Ellie would do the same for me—but now I’m stuck here for the duration. No escaping Shep tonight, another reminder of things I can’t have.

* * *

Shep

The show’s winding down and most everyone’s gone back to the dorms. It’s coming up on curfew, so I start nudging the lingering guys toward the door. When I’ve cleared out the first floor and the basement, I head up to the second floor. It’s empty, except for Erin, who’s picking up stray cups and napkins left on benches and pedestals, party detritus.

She looks up, startled at my approach before turning back to her chore. “I thought everyone had gone.”

“They have.”

This is so painful. Every time I see her, it hurts. This is especially hard, remembering four years ago. Those drawings are hanging up in my bedroom because I’m an emotional masochist. The dress she’s got on isn’t helping. The dark purple fabric clings in a way tweed has no right to. It shows off her shape, and a hint of cleavage. And she’s wearing those shoes. Those same goddamn shoes with the tiny fucking bows on them.Universe, you blow.

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