Page 6 of Tempting the Teacher

A laugh slips out. “I’ve always liked you.”

“You had a funny way of showing it,” she snaps, folding her arms across her breasts.

My chest tightens. I hook a nearby student chair with my leg and sit. My eyes lock on hers across the expanse of wood, history, and unspoken words. “Look, I admit it. I was a grade-A asshole. Every school has ‘em, right? Kids who act out, who hurt others because, well… Hurt people—hurt people. Hell, if anyone understands that, it’s me.”

Her eyes soften just a smidge, a crack in her icy demeanor. And oh, how I want I to dive into that opening. No, not dive. Dive is to calm a word to describe this feeling. I want to take a napalm bomb to her defenses.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking for a pity party. I was shitty to you, and for that, I’m sorrier than you could ever know.” My words hang heavy in the air, and her eyelashes brush against her eyebrows—she’s shocked. Probably didn’t see my candid admission coming.

“So, is this your penance? Are you trying to buy your way into heaven after all the hell you raised?” she queries, a bitter edge to her voice.

“Not looking for a shortcut to heaven.” I shake my head, ignoring her snark to give her the truth. “But if this center can divert even one kid from the path I was on—then hell yes, I’ll invest every dollar and minute I’ve got.”

Her chest rises sharply, and she sucks in a breath. Pulling her lip into the corner of her mouth. “I might know someone who’d benefit.”

“Really?”

“A girl. Freshman. Huge chip on her shoulder. I don’t know why, yet. I do know she’s crazy good at coding. She’s why my team placed nationally in the ROV competition.”

“Watched it live,” I confess, risking a small grin. “You guys crushed it.”

Her brows knit together. “You’ve been following me?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” I grin. “I’m not a stalker,” I clarify. “I was simply interested. Rooting for the hometown and my old school.”

“Yet at the funeral, you couldn’t even say hi.”

“Huh?” My forehead wrinkles, and it’s hard to speak with my mouth hanging open. “I turned away for a second, and you vanished.”

Raya’s eyes narrow, searching for a lie. “You glared at me like you hated me.”

What the hell? Is that what she thinks happened? “Not. At. All,” I assure her. “You were, and still are, the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen.”

A disbelieving shake of her head. “Nope, you definitely didn’t see me as attractive.”

“No,” I correct, “I tried not to want you. But the spark? It was always there. Just another part of my school day. Wake up, get dressed, have lunch and lust after Raya Ali. Check, check and check. Every moment we spent alone here, it was a struggle not to hold you, to drag you into my arms and kiss you like my life depended on it.”

Raya grips her pen as if it’s a lifeline. “That can’t be true. Why would you lie?”

I arch my brow. “Exactly.”

Her eyes widen, and the pen slips from her hand, clattering onto the desk. A rush of triumph surges through me. She’s surprised again, and I make a mental note—this, right here, surprising her? It’s a game I want to play for the rest of my life.

I’ve always wanted Raya, but as I sit here, laying my cards on the table, I realize what I truly crave. I don’t just want her body or her brilliance. I want the essence that makes her Raya—the unfiltered kindness, the razor-sharp wit, the unyielding strength. I want—her.

“Well,” she slices through the silence. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” My eyes must have leaped with excitement. Excitement she quickly shoots down. “A lot to consider regarding the tech center.” She avoids responding to my declaration, but I’ll give her some time. Not much, just a little, because this tech center is important too.

“I’ll need more details. You can’t expect me to jump into this blind,” she says, but her voice wavers, and I suspect she’s already hooked. I nod, willing to let her work through her process. She’s always been analytical and cautious. But the gleam twinkling in her eyes tells me she loves the idea.

“Of course, wouldn’t expect anything less. You can vet the whole operation, check my credentials, my financials, anything you need to feel comfortable. And if it works out—” I pause, allowing the weight of the moment to settle over us, “I’d set it up as a nonprofit. You’d be the executive director, with full autonomy. You’d report directly to a board. I’ll be on it, but I won’t run it. This will be your show.”

Her lips part slightly, and her eyes dart to the side, as if she’s processing a complex equation. “Why would you put so much trust in me? You barely know me.”

“Don’t I?” I counter softly, catching her gaze again, holding it. “We may have been young and stupid, but the hours we spent in this very room? They meant something to me. You think I’d trust the future of something this important to just anyone?”

Her gaze softens and for a fleeting moment, the taut line of her shoulders eases. It’s a subtle give, but I’ll take it. “It’s a big responsibility,” she murmurs.

“Which is why I want you. You’re brilliant, Raya. I’m not just talking about book smarts. You have this incredible capacity for empathy, for seeing the potential in others, even when they can’t see it in themselves.”

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