Page 19 of Burn for You (Flirting with Forever 3)

p, which normally would hurt but I’ve had enough wine that it doesn’t.

Damon Madero left me freaking period chocolate. I toss my phone down, get up, and stumble my way into the kitchen, ripping the fridge open to grab a bottle of water. I chug it before dropping the bottle into recycling and heading back to my phone in the living room.

Me: OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG.

Me: He totally knew I was late this morning because I had cramps.

Me: He even gave me his little sister’s bottle of Midol.

Sophia: AHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAAAA.

Quinn: Oh man, this is too good.

Zoey: So, we think it was him?

Hadleigh: Oh, hell yes! I seriously can’t wait to watch this go down in our workroom.

Me: You guys, he’s just trying to get under my skin. He knows I’m pissed about competing with him.

Me: He’s being extra nice just to make me mad.

Madison: Hey, girls! I’m back for just a sec.

Madison: I came to the ladies’ room as soon as we got to the restaurant so I could check in. I’m dead. This is too much.

It really is too much. Now I have to go to school tomorrow and try to focus on work and not on the fact that Damon-freaking-Madero gave me chocolate.

On one hand … oh my God, how sweet … but on the other, oh my God, he’s totally trying to wheedle himself into my good graces so that when he snatches the department chair position from me, I won’t be able to say a damn thing.

Because truth be told, he’s done well coming up with good ideas and has totally helped me out lately. This can’t be how this all goes down, though. This can’t be how everything I’ve worked toward for the last several years gets wiped away.

It doesn’t occur to me until much later, once the haze of wine has lifted, that I’d forgotten the whole reason why I’d started texting my girls in the first place. I still have no clue what to do about Prof.M.

Chapter 11

Damon

I miss her. Whoever “she” is, anyway. I’ve missed her quick wit and dry sense of humor. I’ve missed the way she argues with me, not scared for a second to share her own viewpoints. I’ve missed the naughty things that have come out in her messages. Yep. I’ve missed her a whole hell of a lot.

The image in my head of her is no longer enough. Not to mention, the last time I jerked off, I’d been thinking about her. Which would be fine, except at some point my unsubstantiated image of Sherlock4Love had morphed into Piper.

And … it hadn’t stopped me. In fact, I’d come so hard, I thought I wouldn’t recover. I’d been weak in the knees from it. Energy completely depleted. Dizzy.

It’s fucking crazy, is what it is.

So, I need to meet this woman from Tryst. I just don’t know how to convince her to agree to it—especially since she’s gone a bit radio silent on me when I bring it up. Not total silence, though. Those last messages were something else.

With a quick glance down at my phone, I see it’s 3:25 p.m. and I’m due in Jake’s classroom for our department meeting in five.

Just as I’m about to gather my things and move in that direction, Piper bursts in like a whirlwind, heels clicking, opens the bottom drawer of her desk, and pulls out a container. She gives me a sheepish grin.

My eyes zip to the clear-sided container like flies to honey. Ah, tell me she didn’t. “Are those what I think they are?”

A look of delight crosses her face as my mouth drops open. “Can’t hurt, right?” She winks and hustles out of the workroom before I can say anything more.

I work my jaw back and forth. That sneak. I chuckle to myself. Well, I guess this means she hasn’t quite given up yet. She brought cookies for our meeting—Jake’s favorites. I guess the suck-up battle is still going full force, from big things like my excellent strategy of introducing new books to the curriculum all the way down to the little things like Piper’s bribery cookies.

In Jake’s room, I grab a cookie before sliding into one of the student desks across from him and next to Piper. Kent comes in last, his face brightening when he spies the cookies.

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