Page 87 of Teacher of the Year

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it,” I reply, fiddling with my bowtie.

“Me too,” Isabella adds.

Since he suggested it, I’ve been fighting this dinner, but on Sunday, taking an early hike together, Olan convinced me.

“Marvin, if we’re going to make this work,” Olan had said, motioning between us. “It will only benefit us if Isabella is on board.”

“Wait, what’s this,” I teased, mimicking his motioning between us.

He tilted his head. “You and me. I want this to work.”

I leaned over and kissed him, lingering longer than probably wise given we were literally on public display, but it was early, and nobody was around.

“Okay. But what if she hates me?”

“Impossible,” he replied, touching my nose with his finger.

“Are you making fun of my nose?”

“Me? I worship this nose.” He’d placed a kiss on the tip, punctuating his point, his lips soft and wet.

With the celebration over and everyone gone, I lie on the class rug, my body supported by the tile underneath, grateful for the experience but also thrilled it’s over. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I thumb out a message to Olan.

Marvin: I think that went about as well as possible.

Olan: Absolutely.

Marvin: Did she say anything about me?

Olan: She said you seemed nice.

Marvin: Nice? Oy.

Olan: Relax, you don’t have to impress her.

Marvin: Actually I kind of feel like I do.

Olan: You don’t. Come over at six. Can’t wait to see you. ??

And so, I find myself standing at Olan’s door – slightly dizzy, but showered and changed from the day, flowers in hand – about to spend more time with Isabella. With her family. As it used to exist. Before Olan moved. Before me. Unlike this afternoon, there will be no escape or distractions as a safety net. My stomach churns, and I’ve got the shpilkes.

Chapter28

“Flowers? For me?”

Olan answers the door, and I’m grateful for even the smallest moment alone with him.

“No, not for you, for Isabella.”

He glances back into the house, steps out onto the landing, shuts the door, and his lips smash on mine. Disoriented, I step back, and he catches me with his right arm. It’s been five full days since we’ve been alone, and his pent-up energy flows into me. His tongue traces my bottom lip, and I swear I feel dizzy from his smell. My heart soars as our mouths connect, and for a fleeting second, I wonder if the two of us can spend the rest of the night out here.

“Damn, I missed your lips,” he growls, pulling away just enough to speak and then jutting back in to bite my upper lip.

“We should go inside,” I mumble as he nibbles away.

“We should.”

Out with her boyfriend – and either trying not to intrude or attempting to avoid any drama – Cindy will not be joining us. Honestly, having her here as a buffer would have been nice, but I understand. Given the opportunity, I would flee too. Olan’s ordered Thai food, and it’s all laid out on the island in the kitchen. In his typical fashion, there’s enough food here to feed twice the number of people eating. The salty smells of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic fill the air, and my stomach lurches with a mix of hunger and unease. My fingers play with the plastic wrap around the flowers I’m holding, and I wonder where Isabella and Illona are. I’m not trying to rush the evening, but I also would like to shove this train out of the station.

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