Page 9 of Teacher's Pet

"I won't have you speak to me like that again in my classroom," I say, my voice low and sharp as I give her a stern look.

"Then don't give me a reason to speak to you that way," she snaps back. "The last thing I need right now is to suffer through a semester with a teacher who has it out for me-"

"Maybe a good start would be less talking during class," I fire back, my words coming faster than my thoughts.

"With Walker?" she questions, her eyes narrowing. "He's my scene partner. What else were we supposed to do-"

"That's all you and Walker were talking about? Just class work?" I ask, the curiosity slipping out before I can stop it.

I don’t know where this nosiness is coming from.

"I don't see how that's any of your business-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"You're in my classroom, Anastasia," I seethe, watching her tense at the use of her full name. "What happens here is entirely under my control." I take another step closer, feeling the air between us shift. "So when I tell you to speak to me with more respect, I expect that to happen."

She slowly nods her head, a smirk tugging at her lips.

God, the things I could do to that mouth to wipe that smirk clean off her face.

Why isn't she backing down? Why does she stand here with such defiance?

"Fine, Ackerman," she says, dropping the honorific. "I'll give you all the gratification and respect you want," she sneers, something bitter underlying her tone. "So long as you refrain from staring at my breasts next time my nipples decide to show on a cold day. When you want to have a look, maybe just ask me directly instead of hiding behind a book."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, too frazzled to find my response. She pats my chest with an almost careless gesture, completely unfazed by my anger.

"I have a lot bigger things to worry about than a power-hungry, self-absorbed teacher," she hisses. "Maybe you should have singled out one of the dozen other students who would have loved some one-on-one time with you. Have a good rest of your day-" She pauses, grabs my badge, and takes her sweet time looking over the name. "Noah."

She walks away, grabbing her bag, leaving me utterly frozen, caught in a wave of confusion and some dangerous, unhealthy emotions.

My nails dig into my palms so hard that my knuckles turn white, and I have to fight the instinct to coil my hand into her long red hair, to force her to shut up and focus on something else.

A flare of heat rushes to my cheeks, and I can feel the blood flow between my legs rise as I try to process what the hell just happened.

"When you want to have a look, maybe just ask me directly…."

So this is a game for you, Anastasia? One that you think you have the upper hand in?

Tapping my foot, I glance at her empty desk, the memory of her smirk lingering in my mind.

"I'm just disciplining her," I whisper to myself, trying to convince myself. "That's all this is."

The next set of students begin filing into class, but I look past every single one of them, not once pausing or watching the way I had with her.

Game or not-

Something deep inside tells me that today is not the last time Anastasia Burns will take residence in my mind.

Chapter 4

Anastasia

"Meg, I’m telling you, this asshole finds every single opportunity to single me out. It’s almost like he’s pissed off that I’m not ready to kneel at his feet and kiss his ass just because of his looks," I scoff, taking a large bite from the sandwich I grabbed from the dining hall.

Seated at the back of the dining hall, we all stick to ourselves. Thankfully, Meg and Elijah value their privacy just as much as I do.

"I had a friend in your English class tell me he was glaring at your desk the whole time you were there," Elijah grins. "Whatever you said to him, it definitely pissed him off." His grin widens as he adds, "She also told me Mr. Ackerman wasn’t the only yummy man in the classroom giving you googly eyes. Who’s this boy you're scene partners with?"

I freeze mid-bite, scanning the dining hall until I spot him.

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