Lessons of the Heart (5 page)

He pulls his jacket on and the smile he gives sends warmth through my veins. “Good. See you then.”

And just like that he walks out the door to the truck that’s parked across the street. I sit and watch again, feeling slightly creeper-ish but unable to get him off my mind. In just those few minutes of us talking, I could feel something growing between us. A friendship or kindred spirit of sorts I guess. We have a few things in common, which is a bit surprising. Normally, I don’t find guys who enjoy the same things as I do.

I down the rest of my coffee and shove all my stuff into my purse. I dial Penny’s number when I get in my car, hoping she’s awake by now.

“What’s up?” she says in greeting.

“Not much. I’m out and about right now. Want to go shopping? I need to replace that scarf from last night and I have the urge to buy a new book.”

“Nerd.” I can almost see her rolling her eyes in my head. “Yeah, I’m game for shopping. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll meet you at the mall.”

“Okay, lazy bones. See you in a few.”

I start driving toward the mall with James still on my mind. A bud of hope blossoms in my chest at the thought of seeing him on Monday. He’s definitely something to look forward to.

I
’M DROWNING IN A SEA
of papers from Mrs. Davis, in addition to the papers I have to reorganize from Friday after my run-in with James. Even after my attempts at distraction over the weekend, he was still in my brain. There’s just something about him that I can’t put my finger on. Whatever it is I need to figure it out and soon.

As luck would have it, I haven’t seen him in any of my classes or passed him in the halls. At this point I don’t know if I’ll even see him today. But I’m still hoping.

The bell rings for the end of the fifth period and I head to my locker to grab my stuff for Mr. Ward’s class. Well, at least it used to be Mr. Ward’s class. I’ll find out today who the new teacher is.

Penny comes barreling down the hallway, nearly knocking me over when she grabs my shoulders.

“Holy shit dude!”

I laugh and shake my head. “What? Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

She regains her composure, smoothing her hair down from the frazzled mess it once was. “The new teacher they got to replace Mr. Ward? He’s hot. Majorly hot. Like ghost pepper, the surface of the sun, you’ll-go-blind-from-touching-it-too-much hot.”

“You’re a nut, you know that? He’s a teacher. You make it sound like Chris Hemsworth is here instead.” I pause. “And did you seriously just say go blind from touching it too much?”

Penny drags me by the arm to class. “Yes, because he’s that hot.”

“You know, between you and my brother I don’t know who is more inappropriate and lewd.”

“Just one more thing we both have in common.” She walks to her chair over by Travis, who greets her with open arms and a showy kiss.

I roll my eyes and take my seat, flipping through my notebook to find the next clean page. My pencils are sharpened, my pen is handy, textbook open to the lesson written on the board in rather neat masculine handwriting. After Penny’s reaction to the new teacher, I’m kind of interested to see him myself. I wonder if it’s true, if he really is the good looking, super hot guy that she depicts.

Chase pulls on my sleeve. He looks sheepish and still carries around regret from Friday night.

“You mad at me?” He chews on his thumbnail, apparently worried about what I’m going to say.

I blow out a quick breath. “No, not really. Not anymore. Neither of us could have known that I couldn’t hold my liquor that night. I’m more upset by what you tried on the couch more than anything else.”

He looks down and away. “I didn’t mean to upset you by that. You just looked so cute and I thought maybe you felt something toward me since you were leaning against me.”

“That was because I was drunk. Chase, you know I like you as a friend,” I say. “And because you’re my friend I’m going to let this one-time incident slide, never to be brought up again. We’ll consider it a lapse in judgment. Deal?”

I stick my hand out and he firmly shakes it. “Deal.”

A strange chill runs up my spine as the teacher enters the room. I snatch my hand away from Chase’s when I turn my attention to a pair of green eyes staring directly at me. Green eyes that I have seen on two occasions and have recently sparked something to life inside of me. The green eyes of my teacher who really is as hot as the surface of the sun.

“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself.

Chase straightens up when he notices that James is staring in our direction.

I can’t move.

I can’t think.

Shock.

That’s what this is. It has to be. I mean, how could he be the new teacher? There’s no way he’s old enough.

He shakes his head, moving back to his desk in the corner and picks up the seating chart, studying it profusely. I watch his eyes dart up and down, back and forth, reading the paper until locking eyes with me again.

What do I do? I mean, it’s not like we’ve done anything wrong. We’ve met twice. Both times completely innocent.

The bell rings and James writes his name on the board, using the same masculine script that was previously up there. A mixture of emotions floods me, ranging from dread to happiness to confusion to need. I stare at his back, admiring the way his dress shirt stretches across it, the flex of each muscle as he writes, and the tightness of his ass in those dress pants. I probably shouldn’t be looking at that but who can help it. The man is to die for.

“Good afternoon, students. My name is Mr. Dumont. I’m your new teacher, replacing Mr. Ward for the year.”

His voice is confident, strong, one of power and authority. And it does something inside me, stirring something up again out of the trenches, bringing it closer to the surface. I shift in my chair, hoping to not draw any attention from the person in front of the class, as well as the person seated next to me.

James picks up the seating chart and leans against the front of his desk, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Since this is my first day and we’re going to have all trimester together, I’d like to start with everyone introducing themselves around the room and saying one thing about you, anything at all. We’ll start with you,” he pauses, looking down at this chart, “Brian.”

I map out the route which the name announcing will take, making me the last one to say anything. Damn me and my need to sit in front and pay attention. Why couldn’t I have been a slacker and sat in the back row?

Each student states their name and says almost the same thing each time.
I play football, I read books, I play video games and hang out with my friends.
Shit, what am I going to say when it’s my turn?
Hi, I run into beautiful strangers and drink coffee with them on occasion.

A tap comes to my shoulder and I realize that I was too lost in my own head to not know it was my turn to talk. Everyone’s looking at me, waiting for me to say something, including James. His eyes stay on mine as I clear my throat and find something witty to say.

“I’m Britta Fosse and I like to be organized.”

A few people laugh in the back row and I mentally smack myself.
I like to be organized?
What kind of an answer is that? Chase snickers to my side and I throw him a look as I hang my head in embarrassment. But James’s voice draws my head back up.

“I get it, I like to be organized too. It’s kind of my thing,” he says with a smile.

My heart melts just a little more as he eases my embarrassment by agreeing with me. But I already knew that he liked to be organized. His neatness borders on crazy like mine. He told me so during our coffee date.

Not a date.

Shit, I’m going to get in trouble if I start thinking things like that.

My eyes linger on him a bit longer before he starts going into teacher mode, picking up the textbook and having us take turns reading parts of the chapter. Of course, all the girls volunteer immediately to talk, each of them pushing their chests out a little more than necessary as they whine and wiggle their hands in the air. I roll my eyes and sit quietly, hoping to blend into the wall next to me. I don’t need to draw any attention to myself. This will already be hard for multiple reasons. One, I had an instant attraction to James, one that seemed to be reciprocated both times we’ve met. Two, he’s my teacher and now more than ever I wish it were June so I wasn’t in high school anymore.

And three, see problems one and two.

“Ms. Fosse, could you take the next few paragraphs?”

James’s voice filters into my scattered brain, making me realize that I have no idea where we are in the book.

“Um,” I start, glancing over to Chase for help. He tilts his book to the side, pointing to where I need to be and I nod my head in appreciation. James doesn’t miss our exchange when I sneak a peek up at him. The green of his eyes darken slightly and I swear they even narrow marginally.

Strange.

I read the next few paragraphs, trying to hide my nervousness that could give me away as the girl who is thinking things she shouldn’t be. Every once in a while I’ll take a natural pause and look up, only to find James looking at me. When our eyes catch he quickly averts them back to the book, making me do the same.

When the bell finally rings, I gather my things as fast as I can to make a hasty escape. Unfortunately, my book was too close to the edge and gets knocked over. I wait until the last person in my row leaves so I can crouch down and pick it up quickly.

A pair of dress shoes appears in front of me and I’m met with the piercing stare of my teacher, who is now down at my level, helping me gather my fallen items.

“Thanks,” I say, afraid to say anything else.

“You’re welcome.” Our fingers brush briefly in the property exchange, sending a shiver to run straight down my spine. Not one of pain or embarrassment, but something else entirely. Something comforting, something that deep down makes me crave his touch just so I can experience it again.

I stand quickly, smacking my head on my desk as I rise.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” he asks, reaching out but retracting his hand instantly.

I rub the abused spot and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. It’s just a bump.”

All the other students have left, leaving just the two of us in his classroom.

His classroom. He’s my teacher.

I have never wanted something to be less true in my life.

A few seconds of silence pass before he shoves his hands in his pockets and sighs. “So you’re not a teacher.”

I shake my head. “And you’re not a student.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not. Why did I find you in the teacher’s lounge on Friday if you’re a student?”

I press my books into my chest and stare at the knot in his tie, unable to make eye contact with him. “I’m a teacher’s assistant for Mrs. Davis. I grade her papers, keep her grade book, create her tests, you know, that sort of stuff.”

“Well, then that would explain it. I thought you
were
Mrs. Davis when I saw you back there. You look so much older than you are.”

Risking a glance, I meet his eyes and shrug. “I’m not that young either. It was my birthday on Friday, my eighteenth.”

Why did I tell him that? What business is it of his to know how old I am? He can figure that out from the class rosters if he really wanted to. I’m turning into one of
those
girls without even trying.

“Happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks.”

He drags his hand through his hair and suddenly I find myself wanting to do it as well. He’s just so unlike any other guy I’ve met before. And it’s not just the fact that he’s older and more mature than the guys I hang around with. It’s something else, only I have no clue what it could be.

“Well, I better get going. Hope everything was okay on Saturday with your parents, you know, when you rushed off from the coffee shop.”

James looks up, meeting my eyes and holding me captive in their bright hue. “Listen, about Saturday. I didn’t know, I mean, there was…wow, this was not the conversation I expected to have with you today.”

“Yeah, me either.” I chew on my bottom lip and look to the left. “Out of curiosity, what were you going to say?”

He clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him.

“Honestly, I was going to see if you wanted to meet up for dinner. But obviously that can’t happen now.”

I wish I hadn’t asked him that question.

“Oh.” My voice is small and quiet.

“What about you? What were you going to ask me?” he says, moving closer.

I drag my eyes to his and debate if I really want to say it out loud.

“If we’re both being honest, I was going to ask you the same thing. Maybe not to dinner but coffee after school or meeting up somewhere.”

His face falls at the same time as mine. Whatever potential we had together is gone.

“It's a shame really. I had all kinds of plans running through my head,” he finally says.

“Yeah, me too.” I look over at the clock. “I better go.”

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me. “Britta?”

“Yes?”

He saunters over to me, looking nervously out the door. “I wish things could have worked out differently for us. But as it stands I am your teacher so we’ll just have to forget everything and pretend we’ve never met.”