Page 38 of Spyder
“So, when can I see you again?” I ask.
“Maybe tomorrow night?”
I nod. “I think I can make that work.”
“Oh, you do, don’t you?”
“I’ll have to shuffle around some of my other girlfriends, but yeah, I think I can work that out.”
She laughs and playfully punches me in the chest. “You’re such an ass.”
“But you like me that way.”
“You’re lucky that I do.”
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “I am lucky. Very lucky.”
Her cheeks flush and a sweet, warm smile touches her lips, making her look somehow both innocent and seductive all at the same time. The effect on me is profound. It sends a jolt of electricity from my brain, through my heart, all the way down to my groin, and I feel myself growing hard once more.
“So tomorrow night then?” she asks. “I’ll have my mom’s nurse stay overnight so we don’t have a curfew.”
I nod. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bellamy
I watch as the last of my students file out the door after the day’s final bell. And when the door closes, I lean back in my seat and blow out a long breath, relieved the day is over. It’s not that I don’t love my kids, but they can be seriously taxing sometimes. Today was one of those days—at least I have dinner with Derek to look forward to.
But I need to get these papers read and graded first, so I turn back to them and immerse myself in the various biographies of Civil War figures. Some of them are actually pretty good and I can see the kids did their research. Others read like they were copied directly from Wikipedia. I’m halfway through when the door to my room opens with a loud creak.
Thinking it’s Ruby, I look up and freeze, feeling like somebody has doused me with a bucket of cold water. My heart pounds wildly and my throat goes drier than the Mojave. Paul or Peter or whatever his name was—the man from the accident—steps into my room. He fills the doorway with his massive frame, sending a cold shiver down my spine.
His expression softens though and he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, hunching his shoulders. I take a quiet breath and let it out slowly, trying to settle my nerves and project an image of confidence and strength. It’s the only way to deal with bullies. Like that old saying goes… never let them see you sweat.
It’s hard, though. Being trapped in my classroom, with him standing between me and the only door, is a terrifying prospect. Especially when I know how quick and light on his feet he is.
“H-how did you find me? What are you doing here?” I ask, silently cursing myself for the quiver in my voice.
He shrugs his wide shoulders. “Wasn’t too hard to track you down. You gave me your information last night, remember?”
I grimace. “Yeah. Right. I remember.” Mentally, I congratulate myself for getting that tremble out of my voice. “So, what do you want?”
He opens his mouth but hesitates and closes it again, looking away from me like he’s suddenly shy or embarrassed. Personally, I think it was his act last night he needs to be embarrassed about. But that’s just me. The man finally nods to himself then turns back to me.
“I wanted to apologize. About last night,” he says. “I know I scared you and I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
I sit back, stunned by his apology. That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth when I saw him standing there. I stare at him, my mouth hanging open for a minute, unable to utter a single syllable.
“I wasn’t really that mad about my truck. Truth is, I couldn’t tell you which dent is even from you. I’m sure you noticed my truck isn’t exactly the latest model,” he tells me, a small rueful grin on his face.
He leans against the wall next to the door and purses his lips as he looks down at the ground. I can tell he’s expecting me to say something in return. He’s put himself out there and apologized, so I’m sure he thinks I need to follow suit. So, not wanting to cause any friction, I do.
“I apologize for my part in what happened as well,” I reply. “It was just an unfortunate situation for the both of us.”
He nods, a sad expression on his face. “Yeah. But I know I took out my stuff on you. Things have been tough lately and that was just like the last straw.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough go of it lately,” I tell him.
