Page 39 of Private Tutoring
19
ROBERTO
Three weeks. That was how long we’d been sneaking around with Harmony. Every night together was better than the one before. I hadn’t thought it possible to fall so hard so fast, but Harmony was proving me wrong at every turn. She was a perfect student in class, and something altogether different at home.
I grinned and sipped coffee from my travel mug.
Stephen shoulder-checked me as we walked across the parking lot. “Fix your face. You’re smiling too much.”
“Fix your own face.” I gave him a playful shove, and his frown deepened.
He’d been sleeping and eating better. The punishing workouts at the end of the day hadn’t stopped, but he worked out with more effort and less savageness. We didn’t mention it, but Matthew and I both noticed. He looked better. Less grumpy professor and more relaxed friend. Harmony did that to him. Every night she’d been with us, he smiled in a way we hadn’t seen in years. He had every right to grieve, but the healing of Harmony’s presence meant more than any of us admitted.
We’d promised no feelings. Fuck that shit. I’d caught feelings the first time we slept together.
Stephen hoped to protect his heart from further hurt. Maybe it would work for him.
I might not have ever been in real, true love. Nor had I suffered any kind of loss similar to Stephen’s. That didn’t mean I had to hold myself back from loving Harmony. Even if I’d promised my best friends. Stephen was wrong to demand we keep our hearts separate from what happened in the bedroom. My heart was too big and open to constrict it the way he demanded.
“I’m allowed to be happy.” I elbowed Stephen in the ribs. Hard.
He grunted and pushed me away, scowling and grumbling under his breath about putting up with me.
I laughed off the perceived insult. My growing feelings for Harmony made even the sunshine brighter. “Any plans tonight?” I wiggled my eyebrows at Matthew.
He grinned in response. “Depends on what she has in mind.”
“Not here.” Stephen slashed a hand through the air. “You’re getting too comfortable talking about this in public.”
“We’re not saying her name,” I argued back. “We’re allowed to have a personal life. It would seem weird if we never talked about anything except work.”
“When we’re at work, that’s what we talk about.” Stephen speared me with a look. He was good at putting me in my place with nothing more than that cold stare.
I sighed but nodded, unwilling to allow an argument in the middle of the parking lot. “Fine.”
“You agreed to the rules.” He loved reminding me of the rules.
I moved past him, turning left at the paved path that split into four directions. “Have a good day at work, sweetheart.” I blew him a kiss, wiggling my fingers.
“Fuck you.” He snarled when Matthew burst out laughing.
A few students shot curious looks our way. I ignored them and whistled on my way to class. The tall brick building offered hints of shade from the thick sunshine. By the time I walked across the lacquered floor and entered my room, I couldn’t stop grinning.
The sight of my class filtering into the room dropped the smile from extravagant to polite. Having a relationship with a student was wrong. I knew that. Knew it but chose to continue anyway. I’d never felt this way about a woman, and I wasn’t about to give that up because of some conservative rule. My relationship with Harmony—the way all four of us were included in each other’s lives—felt deeper and more meaningful than anything I’d ever known.
“Good morning.” I set my coffee on the corner of my desk, did my best to keep from looking at Harmony, and jumped into class with my usual fervor.
Class should be fun, and I always strove to make it learnable and interesting at the same time. I picked up my book of poetry, thickened my accent, and read my newest favorite.
Soft smiles and quiet sighs met my words. Some of the girls leaned forward with their arms crossed on top of their desks. The warm atmosphere I created in my classroom might offend some professors, but I’d learned that students were more apt to learn in a comfortable space.
It was why I’d printed off posters of my favorite poems and plastered them on the walls. I allowed the students to bring drinks and snacks to class. It meant a little more work cleaning up each day, but it was worth it to see them so engaged with every lesson.
The hour-long class passed in its usual blur, and I dismissed them with a grin. “Miss Vogel, a word, please.”
She stilled in the middle of shoving her notebook into her bag. “Yes, sir.”
I schooled the smile that tried to emerge. Her submissive tone in class was such a contradiction to her responses in bed that I almost couldn’t reconcile the two. It was obvious she trusted us in the bedroom or she would never unleash that part of herself.
