Page 8 of Miguel

“Yeah, well, I take my son’s safety pretty fuckin’ seriously too.”

I jolted back as if he’d slapped me. I had to admit, the words felt like a blow. He seemed almost… offended. That hadn’t been my intention when I’d said that. But now he was looking at me with furrowed brows and a frown.

“I wasn’t implying that you weren’t, Señor Lopez. I’m just stating school policies.”

His expression smoothed over after a moment. “You’re right. Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you.”

I waved off the words, keeping my smile in place. “It’s fine. Anyway, conferences are mandatory. There’s only so much I can help the kids with here at school, and I like to let parents know how they can strengthen learning at home, especially if I suspect any one of my kids has special needs they need met that I may not be able to help with.”

He gave another nod, and I recognized the expression on his face. He looked… overwhelmed. Which was surprising. He was a big bad biker with a whole club at his back. I wouldn’t think someone of his caliber would be overwhelmed by anything. I supposed I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about what anyone could or couldn’t handle. Parenting was hard in so many ways.

For a moment I felt for him. Not pity, but understanding. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through–I didn’t know the story–but I’d seen so many parents burn out, feel like they were failing. Hell, I only had their kids a few hours a day and I could get overwhelmed. I couldn’t imagine taking care of them full time. Not because I didn’t want to know what it felt like. I loved kids, hence my work. So, yeah, I empathized.

I reached out on impulse to touch his arm. A soft gasp tore through my mouth at the simple touch. It jolted through me like an electric shot. It was strange, how I felt like I hadn’t really been alive until this moment. I had been surviving, but notalivein the way his simple touch suddenly made me feel. My breath sped up, and I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat.

“You’ll get the hang of this,” I assured. Parents could be almost as resilient as children. And when you loved your kid? You would move planets for them. Everything and everyone else be damned.

And this man looked resilient as hell.

His dark eyes flared, the expression dangerous with an undercurrent of something else. Of something I wasn’t used to seeing on a man directed my way. It was almost primal. Possessive. Erotic.

I shifted my stance, but didn’t lower my hand. As if my palm was glued to him. Beneath his long-sleeved shirt, I could feel his warmth, the hardness of his tense muscles, primed as if ready to pounce.

Why was a part of me hoping he would?

“I hope so.” His deep voice was a growl, and for a moment, I imagined what it would feel like to have that timbre caressing my skin as his mouth traveled across my body. The deep rumble of his voice across my…

Ay, Dios mío.

My face flushed at the naughty turn of my thoughts. I had a rule, one I prided myself on. I never got involved with the parents of my students. I’d been asked out by single fathers before, but I knew dating one of my kids’ parents would complicate things for everyone. Not to mention having dirty thoughts about one was entirely inappropriate.

I pulled my hand away and the spell broke, though I still felt dizzy and breathless.

Thankfully, at that moment, Laura came out of the classroom, smiling as if she couldn’t see the very visible electricity cackling between Señor Lopez and I.

“Well, he’s all set. Now, Señor Lopez, shall we go and talk about the rules of the school?”

The big, scary biker didn’t take his eyes off me as he answered, “Yes.”

Laura started to usher him away and I felt stupefied to my spot. But before he turned to go away with the school’s secretary, his eyes raked over me. “See you soon,” he whispered.

And hell if those words didn’t sound like a promise of something more.

My day was hell. I wasn’t sure what it was about the kids. Was mercury in retrograde? Maybe the full moon? No idea, I’d have to ask my roommate, but they all seemed to work extra hard to disobey me today no matter what I did. And Zeke? My heart ached for him.

He was so quiet, and I kept hawk-like eyes on him all day, giving him extra attention because he was new. I wanted him to adapt, but he didn’t speak at all. He barely interacted with the others in group activities. Sure, he sat and colored and looked through picture books, but when I spoke directly to him he stared blankly. While other kids screamed and cried and sang, he didn’t react at all.

I had my suspicions regarding what was going on with him, but I didn’t want to assume. I’d knelt in front of him at one point during the day, letting my hands do the talking for me, and when he didn’t react to that either, I knew I was going to have to set up a meeting sooner rather than later. I would bring up my suspicions with his father when he came to pick him up.

Ifhe deigned to show up.

I admitted, a part of me wanted to see the big, handsome biker again. But when time flew by and one-by-one my students were picked up by their parents and Señor Lopez didn’t show, my rage started rising in increments as the hands of the clock ticked away. And when Zeke and I were the only two left outside waiting for him, I saw red.

To think, I thought he’d looked ready to tackle this. To take care of his son and be a good role model. As the minutes passed, I could see Zeke shaking, looking at every passing car, his eyes wide and glossy, his shoulders hunched.

Like he was expecting abandonment, or prepared for it.

It broke my heart.

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