Page 120 of Can't Text This

I hustle to catch up with him, because I wasn’t kidding—wearerunning late because he took forever to eat, and being late is so not my thing.

Sure, some of it had to do with me texting Monty like a goof, but let’s just shift the blame to Xavie. It’s totally his fault in the end anyway.

I barrel around the corner and come to a dead stop when I nearly collide with the last person I expected to see standing at the end of the hall with my son.

“Monty?”

Her head shoots up at my voice and our eyes collide.

Shock. Confusion. Worry.

So many reactions in such a short amount of time.

“No,” she mutters.

“Beat ya, Dad! Guess who’s getting stuffed in the trash can now,” Xavie taunts, doing a little dance.

“Still you,” I tell him.

“No way! I won fair and square. Didn’t I, Mrs. Andrews?”

There it is. The confirmation I needed.

Monty Andrews, the girl I’m steadily falling for—the one I just asked to be my girlfriend last night—is my son’s teacher.

Fuck. Me.

When Xavie mentioned his teacher’s name was Andrews, I immediately thought of Monty. But he said Mrs., and there was no way that could have been Monty because she’s not married. Plus, I was certain she was teaching middle school, not first grade, so I pushed it out of my mind any time he said her name.

There was no way this beautiful girl standing before me could be my son’s teacher.

But, I was wrong.

Sofucking wrong.

“Miss,” she corrects. “It’s true, he did.”

“Who’s side you on?”

“It appears I’m straddling quite the line,” she comments, the double meaning in her words clear as day.

“Why don’t you head into the room, son? I’ll be there in a moment.”

He races inside, leaving just me and Monty standing in the hall.

I want to run.

I want to scream.

I want to kiss the hell out of her.

I want to do so many things right now, and none of them are the appropriate reaction.

She takes timid steps my way, her uncertainty showing in the way her shoulders square as her eyes harden.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“What areyoudoing here?” I echo.

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