“So, what grade levels do you teach?” his deep voice rasps, and I can’t help but perk right up and pay attention.
“Ninth grade World Geography and eleventh grade US History. Probably the very same curriculum you had in school. History doesn’t change—like, not at all.” I shoot him a smile, unable to imagine this man as a student in a high school. He’s far too … I don’t even know what. Grown up, I guess. Devastatingly handsome. Capable of making my insides flutter like I’ve swallowed a bunch of butterflies. The same damn thing happened that night at the bar. One look gave me all sorts of ideas that seem especially indecent right now. This is your student teacher, Hadleigh.
Your very tall, very hot, very sexy student teacher. Jet-black hair I’d like to run my fingers through and dark eyes that make my insides twist every time he looks at me.
Oh. Shit. I’m so screwed.
“I hope I can do a good job. I love history and am a bit of a storyteller … and a keeper of strange facts—historical and otherwise.” He chuckles to himself. “Just to warn you in advance.”
His gaze meets mine, and I can’t help but smile. My teeth catch the corner of my lip and rake over it. In an effort to distract myself, I point up to the top shelf. “Let me get you the books you’ll need.” I reach for them, but have to grab at my shirt when I realize it’s riding up to bare my midriff above my pencil skirt.
His hand touches the middle of my back for a fraction of a second to let me know he’s behind me before he reaches up. “I’ve got them, no problem.” He pulls one down and then the other, setting them on my desk. “Where are you in the curriculum?”
“We’re doing a unit on South America in the geography classes and then—I’ll be honest—I sped through a couple of my least favorite units in US History so we could do a current events unit. So, we’re already learning about World War I in that class.” I slick my tongue over my lip. “I’ll get you copies of the curriculums for both classes and we can make a copy of my planner, too. If there’s anything else you need or want to know about, feel free to text me. I hardly ever check my e-mail.” I turn and grab a p
iece of scrap paper and a pen from my desk and jot down my phone number for him. “We’ll take the route right past my classroom on our way back to the office so you can check it out. Your first day is Friday?”
“Yep, it is.”
“That’s smart. Get your toes wet with just one day and then take a break.”
“I thought it was a good plan when they told me. Thank you, Ms. Beckett.”
“Oh my gosh.” A laugh escapes before I can hold it in. “Please—unless we’re in class, call me Hadleigh.”
“All right, then. Hadleigh it is.”
Chapter 4
Sawyer
I can’t quite tell if Hadleigh remembers where we’ve seen each other before. Thank fuck. That would be incredibly awkward. I’m definitely not bringing it up just yet. The way she’d gazed at me that night, her deep, dark eyes completely unwavering—it was like some sort of weird cosmic connection. Maybe I’ll say something once I get to know her better. Right now, I don’t think it’s appropriate given we are establishing the ground rules for me being here as a student teacher—and one she’s responsible for, at that. It’s possible she’d feel awkward if I were to point out how we’d stared at each other for way longer than was probably socially acceptable for two strangers to do. The last thing I want is to make her uncomfortable or add another worry to my plate when I’m already nervous enough as it is.
“I can walk you back to the office after you’ve seen my room, just in case you want to ask them any questions up there. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you so much, by the way, for agreeing to work with me. I’m not sure if you get anything out of it, but I’d like to at least extend my gratitude.”
A smile breaks across her face. “It’s something silly, like ten dollars a week from Roxford. That’s okay, though. It looks good on my record.” She shrugs and leads me out of the workroom.
We haven’t even gotten back to the main hallway when a male teacher approaches us from the opposite direction. Given his attire—athletic pants and a polo with the Newberry High School insignia on the chest—I’d guess he’s a gym teacher or maybe a coach. His hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his expression is thunderous.
Hadleigh abruptly stops in the middle of the hallway, as he heads straight for her. I don’t know what else to do, so I stop, too. I glance at the woman I’m only just getting to know and could swear she’s ill at ease. Do I tell her I’ll see her later? Stay here? Give them some space, maybe? Shit. Hell if I know what’s appropriate. I finally elect to follow her lead.
This guy barrels straight up to her without so much as a look at me. “Can I talk to you?” He’s practically panting as he comes to a stop in front of her.
Hadleigh turns to me, her face tense. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. Would you mind giving me just a second?”
My brows pull together as I look from her to him. “Um, sure.” I point to a classroom with a door standing open and lights turned off. “Do you think anyone would care if I were to poke around in there?”
“Nope, that’s Piper’s room. You go right ahead.”
My lips press together, semi-concerned, as I leave her side. Upon entering the classroom, I flip on a light so I can take a look around. It’s not until I’ve been looking at the setup for a few seconds that I realize I should have shut the door behind me. I’m still able to hear them clearly out in the hallway which makes me feel like I’m eavesdropping, however unintentional it may be. With a shake of my head, I sit down at Piper’s organized desk to wait.
The guy’s voice drifts through the door, meeting my ears on a bit of a grumble. “Had, I tried to call you three times over break. Tell me you’re not avoiding me.”
“Ed, I told you before break I thought we were better as friends. I thought you understood what I mean by that.”
“But, baby, I miss you. Don’t you miss me?” She stays quiet, and he continues, “I definitely don’t think we’re better as friends. I miss your sweet ass.”