Page 5 of Mr. Naughty List
He’d made his prissy, hot teacher think about kissing him. Probably fucking him, too.
RJ smirked to cover his glee, and when he took the ID back from Mr. Danvers, he was glad his hands weren’t sweaty because their fingers brushed.
“I’ll be right back,” Mr. Danvers said, his voice a little husky. “You want anything stronger than another beer?”
“Nah, good old YeeHaw will do.”
“Great.” He nodded at RJ’s sleeveless arms currently free of tats. Hashtag goals for the upcoming years. “Need your coat from inside? I can grab it.”
RJ had left his coat in the band’s van and, from a quick glance over his shoulder back inside the pub, it looked like Casey and Joel were long gone. Becca and Madison were still dancing, though. He could see Madison’s blue hair bouncing in the crowd.
“I’m good. Thanks.” He put his chin up again, determined to stay cool. “This so-called ‘winter’ has nothing on Finland mid-January. Nowthat’scold as tits.”
Mr. Danvers snorted. “Surely I taught you how to use descriptive language well enough that you don’tneedto resort to crudeness.”
RJ laughed. “Fuck yeah, you did.”
Mr. Danvers rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember you being such a brat.”
RJ shrugged. “I’m surprised you remember me at all. I was quiet back then.”
“Sure. If you call that whole angry, goth-punk vibe you had going ‘quiet.’” Mr. Danvers grinned again, dimples digging into his cheeks. “I’ll be right back with drinks. I want to hear about what you were doing in cold-as-tits Finland in the middle of January.”
The familiar sounds of “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” rang out from the sound system in the bar as Mr. Danvers swung the door open to go back inside. The crowd was still in a jovial mood. Gazing in through the wide, front windows, RJ saw Becca had joined in with the folks who were singing along, dancing, and swaying with raised glasses or beer bottles.
The buzz off the crowd was hot enough to intensify RJ’s already strong headrush. Patience was never his strong suit, and he tapped his foot to the beat, eager for Mr. Danvers to be back even as the door closed against him and the music. RJ hummed the cheesy melody under his breath while fingering the chords on his beer bottle. He couldn’t believe he was talking,flirtingeven, with Mr. Danvers.
What kind of holiday fever dream was he in? The best kind.
He grinned, remembering the last time he’d dropped acid. He’d been in Rome, and he’d promised himself he’d never do that shit again. Not after the entire world had breathed in and out like a big lung, expanding and contracting around him. Not after flowers had told him secrets that, even now, he was afraid to repeat. And definitely not after he’d nearly fallen into a chasm made by his own mind. Real or not, it was all too terrifying.
But here he was, mostly sober, sitting in downtown Knoxville positivelytripping ballsbecause he was talking to his high school crush. RJ didn’t know if he was scared or excited. Mostly both. He rubbed a hand over his short hair again. A cold wind blew across the square. RJ shivered hard.
Even letting his mind toy with the idea of touching the man he’d obsessed over, ached for, and lusted after was nearly too much for him. He’d wanted Mr. Danvers since he was a teen. He couldn’t stand to blow it.
Blow it. Ha.
He was going to seduce the pants off Mr. Danvers’s intoxicating ass tonight, and finally get the kind of Christmas homecoming he’d always wanted but never thought he deserved.
Chapter Two
Aaron ordered hissecond whiskey sour of the evening and a YeeHaw for RJ. Standing by the bar with a cocked hip waiting to pay, he blew a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead and let his gaze wander back to the big windows that looked out at the patio and Market Square.
His gaze hung on RJ Blitz sprawled at the iron patio table, looking far too grown up for his own good. Forcing himself to look away, Aaron watched as the bouncer, standing a few feet away from the patio table, checked some college girls’ IDs. But his attention quickly drifted back to RJ. He licked his lips as he noticed again the casual stretch of RJ’s long legs in the beaten-up jeans, and the sexy way RJ’s T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders. The epitome of careless and cool.
Another rousing chorus of “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” lifted up around Aaron, and, determined to get a grip on his thrumming lust, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. What was he doing? He couldn’t afford any trouble. Not after what had happened with Coach McAllister.
He took a steadying swallow from his whiskey sour and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Everything was fine. This was a completely different situation from that mortifying experience. RJ was a former student, not a fellow teacher. Amarriedfellow teacher Aaron had been foolish enough to dally with in the man’s office.
He’d told himself it was late at night and no one would know, and he honestly hadn’t realized the asshole was married. He’d barely ever seen the coach in the staff room, and they’d hooked up unwittingly on an app before meeting face-to-face. That should have been the end of it, but they’d been stupid and horny.
Did he mention stupid?
Aaron had learned the hard way upon breaking the school board’s code of ethics that winning football coaches were far, far more valuable than young English teachers. He was lucky to still be teaching at all, and probably wouldn’t be if not for…
He pushed away the twist of guilt and gratitude. He gulped his drink and mentally scanned the rules for ethics. RJ was in no way connected to Aaron’s current school, Pineview Middle. There was no reason Aaron couldn’t share a drink with the man. And hewasa man—Aaron had checked his ID and everything. See? He was playing by the rules.
Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to sleep with him. They were just going to chat. Catch up. There was no reason at all for him to be thinking about the situation with Coach McAllister. None at all.