The Teacher (7 page)

“Say no more,” he said with a tiny smile.

I went back to the living room, maneuvering around the bags like they were land mines. The thing was, the real battle was about to begin.

I opened the door and she gave me a bright grin, holding up her bounty. “Chick
Fil
A and that ridiculously complicated coffee you like!”

I managed a smile of my own as I stepped to the side and let her past. “Wow, uh…you shouldn’t have!”
Really.

Her smile dropped like a bad habit as she walked past me, her eyes widening as she looked around. “Cassandra…”

“I’ve been cleaning up!” I said quickly, blushing as she started fishing in her purse for her hand sanitizer.

“This place looks just as horrible as it did when I came over last week.”

"It doesn't look exactly like it di
d last week," I retorted
. Maybe it wasn'
t obsessively spotless like her
house, but I thought the ability to turn and navigate without being blocked in
by a stack of stuff was progress
.

She put the bag on the counter with a tight, 'yeah right' smile. "Well I figured
we could do breakfast
.
Unless you’re busy.
"

There was something else behind her last sentence, but I ignored it, trying to figure out a way to shepherd her back out.
"Uh, thanks Mom! The thing is I ate something weird last night and I probably shouldn't do anything heavy."

"It's just a biscuit, not Thanksgi
ving dinner," she frowned. "You’re not feeling well
?"

I tried on a sickly looking expression and nodded.

“Vomiting?”

I reddened, hoping that Chance was too busy contemplating how bad it would be if Mom spotted him to hear the next part. "It's actually, uh, the other end."

"Oh I’m sorry sweetheart," she said
sympathetically. She turned toward the kitchen. "You have any soup or chicken broth?" She didn't wait for an answer before she began opening and closing cabinets. She brought out two packs of oodles of noodles. "I can whip some of this up for you."

"That's okay," I said quickly. "I'm not really hungry."

"Don't be silly," she said, shuffling through my sink for a pot. "The people downstairs probably heard your stomach grumbling." She pulled it out with an
‘
aha
!’
and swiped the dish detergent. "Why don't you go lay back down. You look exhausted."

"But Mom-"

"Cassandra."
It wasn't a request.

I stood there awkwardly for a minute then took a few hesitant steps toward my room, stopping when the ring of a cell cut through the door.
Chance's cell.

"You gonna get that
?" Mom said over the water.

"Uh huh just a-"

"But your phone's right here."
The water snapped off and I paled
as I turned back to face her. She held up my
Iphone
with the signature composition book style cover. And Chance's phone was still hollering.

"Whose phone is that?" She asked, wiping her hands with a paper towel and moving toward my bedroom.

I took a step toward the door, creating a barrier. "Alicia probably left hers here. We had dinner last night."

"Huh," Mom grunted, giving me a long, curious look. "That's really interesting since she called me this morning to invite me to dinner tonight." When I didn't say anything, she pressed on, her curiosity fading as she put it all together.
"Just us girls.
So we could talk about Chance Crawford teaching at --"

I hung my head. "Mom, let me explain-"

"Chance is in your bedroom, isn't he?"

"Mom-"

"Tell him to come out here, Cassandra."

I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"He can stop hiding, Cass," she said with exasperation. "I'm not going to bludgeon him to death for
crissakes
."

I didn’t budge, not sure she
wasn’t
goin
. “No I-”

“Hello,
Mrs. Woods.”

My first instinct was to usher him back in the room and usher my mother out, but his face was impassive and fierce. Even his eyes burned like flames, commanding attention.
Strength.
Power.

Mom was slightly taken aback too, this Chance starkly different from the quiet brooding one she'd known before. But she recovered quickly, squaring her shoulders.
"Chance."

A long, awkward filled silence expanded in the room as they each just stared, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"I was just telling Cassandra that Alicia shared that you were back in town."

"That's right," Chance said smoothly. "I'm teaching English at --."

"Isn't that interesting," Mom said, her cold expression saying it was anything but. "I'd almost forgotten you were old enough to teach college level courses."

"Mom," I said with warning. She was pretty much calling him an old, crusty professor.

"It's okay," Chance said with a chuckle just as frigid as Mom's jab. "Three years is a long time."

"Not really," she fired back. "I can still remember the relief from your abrupt departure like it was yesterday."

I glared at her and she gave me a shrug of innocence. "I won't insult anyone by pretending it didn't happen."

I looked up at Chance, expecting to see nostrils flaring, a jaw so sharp it could cut but he didn't look like he was struggling to keep his composure at all.

"If I could take back what I did, how I hurt your daughter, I would," he said. "I hope I can earn your forgiveness and someday, earn back your trust."

There was something so moving, so earnest in his voice that I threaded my fingers into his, gripping his hand tight.

Mom looked at him then down at
our hands and back at me. "Well,
I see you have my daughter's forgiveness, and that's really all that matters." She turned on her heels, suddenly in a grave hurry. "I was just dropping off some breakfast and I'll leave you two to it." She went out the door, not even bothering to close it behind her.

Chance let out a heavy sigh. "That went well."

"Ugh," I muttered, leaning my head against his arm. There wasn't a body count so I guess that was good.

"You should go after her."

"What?" I said rearing back. "She's clearly throwing some sort of tantrum. She needs space.
Time."

He cupped my cheek, gazing at me intently. "She lost your father and now she's losing you to your bastard, cradle-robbing ex."

"Our age gap is the same as my parents!" I said indignantly. "And she's not losing me."

"I think she needs to hear that from you."

"Well
I
think-"

"Do I need to order you to do it?" He said, swapping my butt playfully. "Go talk to your mom so I can take you back to bed."

My sex clenched in anticipation and he gave me a ravenous look that made me blush wildly, much to his amusement.

"Fine."

I slipped out the door and down the stairs, spying Mom's Volvo at th
e end of the visitor lot,
her bowed head bopping as she walked briskly toward it.

I made a megaphone with my hands. "Mom, wait up!
”

She paused,
then
kept walking. I jogged, huffing until I stopped beside her, halfway in the car.

"Mom, can we talk?"

"W
hat do we have to talk about?" s
he said, staring at me with hurt in her dark eyes.
"About your obvious cry for help?"

"What?" I said, taken aback.

"You're obviously hurting about Dad and that's why you're taking back up with that boy."

"Funny," I fumed. "He pretty much said the same thing about you. That you're upset about us because you lost dad and now you think you're losing me too."

"Please," she scoffed. "I'm upset because you are depressed and the last thing you need is to be all tangled up with Chance Crawford."

"I know he screwed up before Mom. He knows he screwed up. But I-" I swallowed the heart filled knot in my throat. "I love him. I never stopped loving him. And he's helping me deal with-"

She started her car, cutting me off. "I don't want to hear anymore. You're an adult and I can't make you do anything--even if I think you're making a horrible mistake."

"If you could just-"

"I have an appointment." She gestured at her door. "I'll talk to you later."

I took a step backward and l
et her pull it closed
and watched her drive away. I was finally ready to talk, but she was nowhere near ready to listen.

****

"I want to go on the record--this is going to blow up in your face."

I unclicked my
seatbelt
and opened the door, getting out before I caught a bad case of Chance's nerves. "No--trying to hide you under my bed blew up in my face."

I circled around the car an
d smiled with approval when
I got the full effect of him. The deep blue of the shirt made his hair a seductive ebony and those pants--the way they hugged and accentuated was going to make thoughts of anything but beds and our bodies together impossible. When my eyes drew back up and met his, he smiled an
d circled an
arm around my waist. "D
o I have your stamp of approval?
"

Warmth reddened my cheeks as he pulled me
c
lose enough that if my lips lied, my body couldn't. He could see the red in my cheeks, pupils
dilated,
feel my heart damn near beating out my chest
…

The sound of a door opening snapped us from the moment and I took a step backward. Mrs. Reynolds, Alicia's mom
,
was standing in the doorway, wearing a red sweater dress and an uncomfortable expression. I started up the stairs toward her, preparing myself for one of her signature bear hugs. For someone as petite as Alicia, she hugged like someone three times her size.

"Cassandra!"
She smashed my body into hers until I could smell every note in her perfume in disturbing detail. She held me at arm's length. "How are you?"

"Great," I said, extricating myself slowly when I heard the creak of Chance behind me.

Before I could introduce him, she had already turned to him, extending her hand. "I didn't know you were bringing a friend! I'm Lisa Reynolds."

Chance accepted it with a smile that melted my heart.
"Chance Crawford.
It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Welcome to my home." She held his hand for a long moment, pondering something. I wondered if she was expecting the boogeyman from descriptions from Alicia and my mother.

"You brought
him
?"
Alicia said tightly behind us, ruining the moment.

Her mother released Chance's hand like a hot potato and moved to shut the front door. "Be nice, Alicia."

Alicia didn't even bother pretending, instead turning on her heels in a huff, not givin
g us
a second glance.

"You'll have to forgive, Alicia," Mrs. Reynolds said to us.

"It's alright, ma'am," Chance took my hand and I relaxed a little. He sniffed. "Something smells delicious."

"My pot roast," she said,
beaming with pride. "Dinner's just about ready."

I didn't remember her corridor being so terrifyingly long, but every step made me want to turn back. Maybe Chance was right. Maybe this would just make it worse. But every
time I entertained making a run for it, Ch
ance would squeeze my hand and
I found the strength to face anything and everything.

Still, I deflated a little when Mrs. Reynolds ducked out to pry her husband from the computer and left us to face the firing squad alone.

Alicia dropped into her seat with an unceremonious thud and Mom was to her right, eyes on Chance. If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward. "It's good to see you both again."

Alicia snorted. My mother said nothing.

If the blows landed, Chance didn't even flinch. Instead he rolled up his sleeves, glancing around. "Do you know if Lisa needs any help setting up?"

"Lisa?" Alicia repeated incredulously. "You and my mom are on a first name basis?"

"Can't you at least try?" I pleaded, pulling out the chair beside her.
"For me?"

She crossed her arms. "I am doing this for you."