Page 38

I swing by Mandy’s classroom a little before the final bell rings so I can grab Harper for our first after school tutoring session before the hallways start to fill with kids scrambling to get out the door after a long Monday.

Well, it was long for me, anyway. I know I’ll see him at pick-up since I’ll be walking Harper to her father’s car, and the thought of seeing him again convinced me to dress a little nicer and put a little more effort into doing my hair today.

I’m not sure why.

I don’t want to impress him or anything, and yet…admitting to Mandy that I might be having feelings for him seemed to unlock something inside me.

It still isn’t right. I still should fight against it.

But I’m not her teacher, and even if I was, there’s no law stating that teachers can’t date parents. Given my desire for that district reading specialist position, though, I probably need to be careful about getting caught up with a parent.

Not that we’re getting involved. It was one kiss that we both said should never have happened.

If it never should have happened…why can’t I stop thinking about it?

Why do I so badly want it to happen again?

I’m already thinking about this weekend and whether I can talk Mandy into going out to the Gridiron again. I’m even thinking about how I can get Jaxon to invite her to something he will be at and she can invite me and we can create an opportunity for another kiss…or more.

God, what am I thinking?

I hate him.

But maybe Mandy’s right. Maybe we just need a little angry sex to work out whatever this is, and then we can both move on.

Harper walks with me back to my office, and I’ve honestly been wondering all day whether I should bring up what happened this weekend with her, but ultimately I decide that Travis handled it however he did and it’s a moot point between the two of us now.

“Your hair looks pretty today,” she says to me once she sits in my office at the little round table where I work with kids.

“Thank you,” I say, flipping the curls a little over my shoulder, and she giggles as I’m reminded of a great fine motor skill that might even help her with her grip a little. “Speaking of hair, do you know how to braid?”

She shakes her head as her giggles fade. “My mom used to braid my hair but she never taught me.”

I reach over and squeeze her hand. “My mom taught my sister and me how to. I can teach you if you want.”

She nods, blue eyes wide, and I wish she didn’t have eyes the exact shade as her father’s because all they do is remind me of him. “I would love that.”

“Okay, we’ll do a little reading practice, and then we’ll take a break and I’ll show you. Sound good?”

She nods eagerly, and we get started on reading a book filled with sight words she should know. It’s a lot of repetition at this point, so once she gets through the first book, I grab a rubber band out of my desk drawer and do a quick braid on her hair. I talk out the steps while I do it, and then I sit in the chair.

“Now you try,” I say, and she stands behind me as she grabs a chunk of my hair as instructed. “Now take the hair in your left hand and put it over the hair in your right hand.”

“I need a third hand,” she says with a giggle, and I laugh, too. And that’s when I hear the shouting.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

We both whip our heads toward the door, and she drops my half-braided hair in the process.

There stands her father, and he seems like he’s almost trembling with anger. “Why weren’t you outside at the pickup line?” he roars as he zeroes in on Harper, his eyes moving right past me.

“I had tutoring today,” she says quietly. “Ms. Hartley said it was on the paperwork that you signed.”

He narrows his eyes as his gaze falls onto me. “Is this a tutoring session or hair club?” he demands.

“It’s tutoring,” I say, forcefully keeping the defensiveness from my tone. “We were taking a braiding brain break, something to reward her after she had a great reading session.”

“Nobody told me it started today. I was waiting out there for twenty minutes and nobody knew where my kid was,” he says. “After the shit you pulled this weekend, I had no idea if you ran off again or what. I should’ve known she’d be here with you.” The way he says you makes me physically feel the hatred he feels toward me.

Okay, maybe angry sex isn’t the answer. But seeing him all worked up like this…I can’t deny that it’s kind of sexy.

“I apologize if you were worried, but it was on the paperwork Ms. Miller sent home,” I say.

“Fine. Let’s go, Harper.”

“We still have another ten minutes,” I say.

“Of braiding hair?” he sneers. “I think she’ll be fine.”

“The next session is Wednesday and it runs a half hour again. Ms. Miller and I will make sure she’s where she needs to be,” I say.

“Or we can hire a private tutor to help her out,” he practically spits at me. “You know, one that actually works on reading skills and not hairdos.”

“I like working with Ms. Hartley,” Harper protests, and my heart warms both that she likes working with me and that she’s sticking up for herself. She’s stronger than she realizes.

He stares off with her for a beat before he relents. “Fine. What days and times is this tutoring thing again?”

“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until three-thirty,” I say. “I will be sure to walk her to your car at the end of our sessions.”

“Great. And when can I expect she’ll be able to braid hair?”

Oh fuck off , I nearly say, but I catch myself since Harper is present. Instead I offer a sugary, fake smile. “However many brain breaks it takes. See you tomorrow, Harps.” I’m not sure why I shorten her name, but she does it back.

“Later, Harts.”

Harps and Harts. I like the ring of it…and maybe even more so because her dad just stands there looking like he’s about to barf at the cuteness of it all.

“Again I apologize, sir, for worrying you,” I say to Travis.

I watch his entire demeanor change at my use of the word sir .

His eyes seem to glaze over as they dart to my lips, so I play it up by snagging by bottom lip between my teeth.

His tongue darts out to wet his own lips, too, and then he tears his eyes away from me. “Let’s go,” he says to his daughter, but I don’t miss the gruff rasp in his voice that tells me he feels it, too.

This thing between us might be becoming a little too big to ignore.