Page 4 of Good Girl

Somehow, I was seeing her more.

My own mother.

[ Mom ] Charlotte, it’s been two weeks. You can’t keep avoiding me. I expect you at the inn this weekend and I’m not taking no for an answer this time. You cannot forget your responsibilities.

I loved my mother, but over the years, I had grown uncertain as to whether she actually loved me. Ever since my father passed when I was thirteen, I had worked non-stop to keep her happy. I studied endlessly to get the best grades, I took too many after-school classes so she could brag about how good I was to the community, I stayed home every night to help her with prayers, and I worked my ass off at the inn to make her proud. I even pursued teaching because it was her dream.

I excelled at being a good girl to make her happy, and yet every time we were in the same room, I felt judged. My clothes, my weight, my hair. Nothing was off limits.

Leaving for college had been my desperate attempt to gain some distance from that version of myself, and yet somehow, I was still exactly the same, only with a ball and chain dragging me back to the family inn every other weekend.

I sighed deeply and began typing out a response, a promise that yes, indeed, I would be down to visit her this weekend, but halfway through typing, a shadow fell across my left shoulder and something about it made me stop.

Thumbs poised over the keypad, I lifted my head to take a look at who was blocking out the light, and it was only then that I realized the entire class was silent. Even Haley next to me hadn’t said a word in twenty seconds.

A man stood over me, a tall, smartly dressed man in grey slacks and a black shirt that had the first three buttons open. Dark eyes locked onto me from behind a pair of square glasses, and he had a bundle of folders clutched in his hands. From this angle, I could see the strength of grip he had on those folders and the way the veins along the back of his hands and up his exposed forearms bulged slightly.

My mind went blank.

He wasgorgeous.

Two curls escaped his sculpted dark hair and skimmed down loosely across his forehead, then his thin lips twitched into a slight smile, accentuating the sharp edge of his square jaw.

“I trust that message is life or death, given how my lecture has already started?” the man stated in a voice that was somehow quiet and powerful all at the same time. There was a gravelly quality to his tone that added to the quiet power that seemed to roll off him with each subtle shift of his shoulders.

My mind remained utterly empty.

Only, this man didn’t move on. He stood right next to me, staring down at me, and I felt utterly pinned underneath his gaze. Or that was my own anxiety, I couldn’t tell, but after a few moments, my mind kicked into gear once I realized he was actually waiting on a response.

As was theentireclass.

“It’s... just my mom...” I managed to blurt out, and my cheeks prickled sharply with heat as if I had just been struck twice.

“Ah, important indeed,” the man—my teacher—said. The subtle smile vanished from his lips, and he continued down the steps toward the podium at the front of the class. He moved with strong, smooth strides, walking like a man who was in complete control of everything around him.

I didn’t breathe until he was safely at the front of the class, and the second I sucked in a trembling breath, every other nerve in my body jumped back into action. Sweat prickled under my arms and down my back, and my heart began to pound frantically beneath my ribs. I quickly stuffed my phone away and lifted the lid of my laptop to try and hide from that man’s gaze as he set his files down on the desk and approached the podium.

“Good morning. I am Derek Hansen. I will be taking over this Modern Literature class, and I will be picking up from where Mr. Matthews left off in the curriculum, so I trust you are all already far into the reading. There will be no time to play catch-up.”

Mr. Hansen—Derek—didn’t lift his voice, and yet I could hear him as clearly as if he were standing right next to me. The power of confidence, I reasoned. He was going to teach this class for the rest of the year? Having to stare at a manthatattractive would not be difficult.

“I can’t believe he actually turned up. I thought it was just a rumor,” Haley suddenly hissed. She leaned so close that her breath sharply ticked my right ear, and I jolted slightly in surprise. Turning from Derek as he began to speak, I focused on Haley, who was now leaning far over her desk with her hands busy underneath, texting.

“What?” I whispered back as loud as I dared. “The teacher?”

“Yes!” Haley hissed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What... why? Is he not supposed to be—”

The shadow was back, and my heart punched up into my throat. Only this time, when I looked up, Derek was not staring calmly down at me. He was staring at Haley with thunder in those dark eyes.

“Miss,” Derek stated, and his voice was sharp like a knife’s edge, even if he didn’t raise the volume. Haley jumped and lifted her head, her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses.

“Phone.” Derek held out his hand past my face, and my cheeks flushed hotter. This close, I could smell the slightest hint of vanilla, and I fought to look anywhere but at his strong forearm.

“What?” Haley scoffed.

“Phone. This is my time. You are in my lecture, and you will follow my rules. I could give a speech about how you’re wasting your own time and money, being here and not paying attention, but I don’t care.” Derek’s firm voice, this close, was sending exciting shivers down my spine in waves and he wasn’t even talking to me.

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