Page 15 of Teacher's Pet

"Yeah," I reply, offering a relaxed smile as the conversation shifts into safer territory.

"How are you liking Spokehaven so far?" she asks, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt as she leans slightly closer.

Startled, my eyes flick to her wrists, where a maze of old white scars runs up and down her skin.

Silent remnants of a past I can't ignore.

I can't help but stare, the reality of her vulnerability hanging between us.

She notices my gaze, and a subtle shift happens in her posture. She glances down at her arms, then meets my eyes. Her voice softens, her walls momentarily lowering.

"Don’t worry," she says quietly, "the stares are sort of the trade-off for having... extreme solutions to the pain of my childhood."

I feel a knot tighten in my chest.

The rawness in her words hits too close to home.

Trust me, I get it.

Rubbing my eyes, I shake my head, trying to dislodge the overwhelming thoughts swirling in my mind. It’s like a storm that won’t let up.

"I didn’t mean to stare," I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. My voice is full of honesty, almost too much. "So far, it’s.…"

I trail off, my throat tight as I try to find the right words. But there’s no clear answer, not when my thoughts keep drifting in all the wrong directions.

Hell.

I can’t even finish the thought without realizing where my mind is headed.

I’m having sexual urges toward one of my students. One I can’t seem to shake.

"New," I manage, my voice quieter than I’d like. It’s like I’m barely holding it together. "It’s all very new to me."

She laughs, a sound that’s easy and free, but it only sends a wave of panic through my chest.

"Well, I’m sure you’re a huge hit with the female students," she says, her grin mischievous.

My heart stutters.

"Why would you say that?" The question slips out before I can stop it, and I instinctively tug at the collar of my shirt, as if the simple gesture could shield me from the awkwardness I can’t escape.

"You’re a young teacher," she says, raising an eyebrow, her gaze knowing in a way that makes my skin itch. "Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of being attracted to people I shouldn’t," she adds with a laugh, like it’s no big deal.

She reaches for one of the complimentary muffins by the coffee pot, taking the cup I had poured for her with a gracious smile. The casualness of her actions only amplifies the tension building between us.

"My husband was my priest, after all," she adds, her smile widening.

I can’t help but grin, a light, incredulous laugh escaping me. "You’re joking."

"Not in the slightest," she says, her grin widening even more, mischief dancing in her eyes. "I totally get it if you want to give me a high five for that one," she adds with a playful wink.

Maybe I’ll have a friend here after all.

"I think I’d rather not find out what happens to me if your husband finds out I high fived you," I say, my hesitation clear in my voice, the words laced with an edge of unease.

"Now you’re learning," she grins, biting into the muffin with a satisfied crunch. "If you ever need to talk, I teach photography in the creative wing of the school."

I step back, my heart racing, but something shifts inside me, giving me the courage to ask the question that’s been gnawing at me.

---