Page 50 of Backfire
He was the one that came in here in his dark jeans and t-shirt, looking like a cold drink of water on a hot day. Teachers weren’t supposed to look like that. They should be wearing jackets with corduroy patches and glasses. Reese would probably rock that look. Asshole.
That’s when my mind went right to how he would look sporting a tacky coat and glasses. And I was right. He would rock that look.
“Are you sure?” Reese asked. “We could start with something a little easier, likeRomeo and Juliet.”
My disdain came through with an eye roll. “No, thanks.”
If I had to read, I’d prefer to read something that didn’t revolve around love-struck teens.
“What’s wrong withRomeo and Juliet?”
“Stories like that put too much emphasis on a single kiss.” It was unrealistic. When in the history of mankind had a kiss ever made someone fall in love?
Reese’s brow arched. “I take you’ve never been kissed?”
“I’m seventeen”—I gave him a deadpan look—“not five.”
Seriously, what seventeen-year—old hadn’t been kissed? Hell, most kids my age had done a lot more than kiss. High schools were basically sexual meeting grounds.
“Someone trying to eat your face doesn’t constitute as a kiss.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then, every kiss I’d ever had flashed through my mind. And I couldn’t recall a single one where I didn’t feel like the guy was trying to swallow my mouth.
Scotty Dalton was okay. At least I didn’t choke on his tongue, and he didn’t taste like cigarettes and beer. That was probably why he got further than anyone else.
Reese slammed his fist down on the table, making me jar back. “Scotty Dalton is an immature fuck who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if he had instructions and a map.”
My brows furrowed.
I didn’t remember saying Scotty’s name aloud. Then again, I didn’t remember half of what Reese said either.
“If you’re done reminiscing…” I jerked back as Reese slammed open the book. “I’d like to get back to work.”
What the hell was up his ass?
“Okay?”
Why was he mad? Seriously. One minute he was all smiles talking Shakespeare and the next he was glaring at the book like he could burn it with his eyes alone.
“We can doRomeo and Julietif you want.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Reese’s entire body tensed as he slowly rolled his eyes my way. “Did Scotty Dalton likeRomeo and Juliet?”
Was he being serious right now? Wait…
“Are you jealous?”
It was a laughable suggestion. I just met the guy. There’s no way he’d care about my past relationships.
“Yes.”
Or he would?
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I’d handled plenty of things before. Played mediator between foster brothers and sisters, convinced one couple to go to marriage counseling, and taught one guy what happened when he snuck into the room of a little girl who had a bat. But I had to say, this situation was a new one.
To make matters worse, Reese was staring at me like I’d betrayed him. So I tried the only thing I could think of and pointed out the obvious.
