Page 111 of Mr. Edwards

He raises an eyebrow suggestively, and the twinkling in his eyes tells me his mind has gone straight to the gutter. “I’d like to put you in a certain position,” he whispers, and I have to fight the sudden urge to clench my thighs together.

It’s only been a few months since he took me against the wall at Emma’s wedding, but it seems like a lifetime ago.

Clearing my throat, I ignore his comment.

He lets out a small sigh before getting into his stance. Letting out a loud “Kiai,” the heel of his palm moves swiftly toward the wood, his technique is impressive for a beginner. To the rest of the class, it isn’t visible, but hishand pulls up just short of coming into contact with the board.

“Oww,” he moans, shaking his hand so dramatically I have no choice but to roll my eyes. I know he’s doing this solely for Timmy’s benefit, and I’ve got to say, I admire him for it.

He plays it up even more on his next turn, hopping around like a lunatic. The kids and some of the adults laugh.

“Would you like some eggs with that ham?” I ask, struggling to keep a straight face.

Chuckling, he throws back a sexy wink, and I want to climb him like a tree.

As Grayson readies himself for another try, the most incredible thing happens. Quiet, shy, and incredibly reserved Timmy starts to chant, “Gray-son… Gray-son… Gray-son,” at the top of his voice.

This time he breaks through the board effortlessly. I’m grinning like a fool when I raise my hand for a high five, and it’s not until Grayson’s eyes slightly widen when they zero in on my palm that I realize my mistake.

Busted.

I quickly scrunch my hand into a fist and start to draw my arm back, but he’s too quick. His fingers wrap around my wrist, halting me. I wait for him to pry my fingers open, but instead, his free hand grasps hold of my chin as he tilts my head to the side. I hear his sharp intake of breath the moment he sees the tiny red heart tattoo on my neck, just below my ear. It matches the one on my palm. The two favorite places he always loved to kiss.

“Carlee,” he whispers, and everything in me wants to turn around and flee, but I can’t. I have a class full of kids and their parents watching on.

“Don’t,” I say, jerking my head out of his grip.

He was never supposed to see them. I’ve had these tattoos going on two years now. Maybe it was a misogynistic move on my part, to punish myself for the predicament I now find myself in, but I’d like to think I did it as a reminder of everything we once shared. The part of our relationship Icouldhold on to.

His lips may never touch my skin again, but those tiny little hearts are a souvenir of our love.Nobodycan steal that from me.

His questioning eyes scan back and forth between mine as I retreat a few steps, dragging my gaze away from him and clapping my hands a few times to get the attention of the kids in the room. He’s searching for answers I can’t give.

“You guys did so well today,” I say, raising my voice. “I’m proud of each and every one of you… good job. Let’s form a circle and bow out.”

When the class is finally over, a few of the parents approach me asking for photos with their children, and I’m grateful for the distraction. It doesn’t stop my eyes from flicking in Grayson’s direction though. He’s standing to the side talking to Timmy’s grandmother. I have no doubt she’s thanking him for what he did today.

People start to dwindle out as I gather my things ready to head back upstairs to the apartment.

“Carlee,” Grayson says, suddenly appearing at my side. “I’m going to have a celebratory milkshake with Timmy and his grandmother at the café down the street, would you like to join us?”

His hand rubs across the back of his neck as he anxiously awaits my reply. I wish I could say yes. Letting him down yet again only makes that ever-present guilt intensify. He’s the sweetest man and deserves none of this.

“I can’t.” I force out a smile, even though I feel like crying. “I’ve got to get ready for work. My shift at the bar starts soon.”

“Okay.” The disappointment I see on his face tears me up inside. “I’ll see you next Saturday then.”

“Sure.”

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” he says, tentatively taking a step backward.

“You too. Enjoy your milkshake and safe travels home.”

“Thanks.” He nods once before turning and walking away. It’s only then that I let my heartache show.

Chapter 25

Grayson