Page 5 of Beg, Borrow, or Steal

And after graduation, I thought I was finally free of Jacksonwhen he took a teaching job in his hometown of Evansville, Indiana, while I got my dream job at Rome Elementary like I had always planned. That is, until three years ago when Bart apparently remembered him from his student teaching days and reached out to him because he was in desperate need of another second-grade teacher. Jack transferred from the private school in Evansville where he had been working to Rome Elementary—accepting the position in thesamegrade as me without realizing I ended up teaching here. It’s like we’re cursed to walk adjacent in this life no matter how much we despise each other.

And today, he’s in my damn seat.

The worst part, though? I seem to be the slightest bit…relieved to see him.

His smirk edges up as I walk with sure strides tomytable.

“Good morning, Emily,” says Jackson with an extra special glint in his eerie, golden-brown eyes that tells me he does not, in fact, wish a good morning for me. He wishes a stain on my favorite jeans. A letter informing me of jury duty. A downpour when I don’t have an umbrella.

His fiancée must have stayed with him for so long because he’s attractive, right? Because yes, the man is admittedly very,verygood-looking. I’m not even going to say the predictable thing and claim it’s annoying. Frankly, giving me something nice to look at while he frustrates the snot out of me is the least he can do.

But there’s something new about him today: Jack is wearing glasses. Circular brass frames that I wish I could say looked dorky on him. Instead, they’re giving Clark Kent a run for his money. His cunning eyes lock with mine from behind those lenses and he dares me to make fun of them. I’d never take such low-hanging fruit. Instead, I cut right to the point.

“Why are you here, Jackson?” I glance over his table, note his open laptop, a hardback journal of some sort, and then of coursethe supple leather laptop bag taking up space in the otherwise empty seat.

“I’m here for coffee, because that’s generally what a person is after when they go to a coffee shop,” he says, sinking into that infuriating trademark grin of his. It’s nearly impossible to describe it accurately. It’s more of a tilt of his mouth than a real smile. It’s the look of a man who is full of secrets and mischief but will never let you in on them because he enjoys watching you squirm more. It’s the grin he gave me when he won Teacher of the Year over me two years in a row.

“You know what I mean. Why are you back here in Rome? Aren’t you supposed to be off gallivanting down the aisle at your wedding right now?”

“I’ve never gallivanted in my life. And there is no wedding.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why?”

His expression never changes. “Because I’m six four. I’d look like a giraffe charging across the plains if I gallivanted.”

I breathe in deeply through my nose. “I could murder you right now.”

“But then we couldn’t keep pretending I don’t know that you already know that I called off the wedding.” His eyes never stray. “Your hair is about to drip on my laptop.”

I’m surprised he so easily confirmed that he called off the wedding. Normally if I want information from him, I have to strategically pry it from him as if I’m a skilled interrogator. The fact that he just laid it out on the table like that is throwing me.

I straighten and cross my arms, deciding to see how much info I can get while he’s in a chatty mood. “Are you two rescheduling the ceremony?”

“No.”

“Are you and Zoe still together?”

A pause. His eyes dip to the ends of my hair and back up. “No.”

No.There it is. Confirmed. Jackson Bennett is no longer in a relationship. I don’t know what to do with this information. Not that it has anything to do with me.

“Hm. So you and Zoe are over, and you’ve come back to Kentucky to stealmytable?”

He tips his head, eyes sparkling. “I didn’t see a sign before I sat down, but it does appear that way.”

No, no, no. Aside from all the messy feelings I’m having at the moment, it’s completely unacceptable for him to be screwing up my routine like this. But this is what he always does. What he lives for: pulling the rug out from under me and delighting in the chaos.

Still…one thing is eating at me more than the rest. One ridiculous thing I can’t let go of. One thing staring me right in the face that I need answers to. “Jack…why are you wearing glasses?”

He’s momentarily caught off guard, then smiles in the right corner of his mouth. “So I can see your jealous scowl more clearly.”

It would be so much fun to kick him.

Enough is enough. The lid of my Treasure Chest of Doom rattles. Growls. Begs to be freed.

He can tell and his eyes glitter with anticipation.

Aha! Maybe this is the source of these conflicting feelings over his return…maybe I’m not relieved to see him. I’m just relieved to have my sparring partner back. Because, like it or not, Jackson is my equal match in every way. He’s the one person in this entire world who doesn’t shrink from the sharpest words I could throw. He catches them between his fingers and lobs them right back.

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