Page 23 of Unsupervised

Shrugging, I put away the keyboard. “I want to learn fast.”

“Nine o’clock tomorrow, then.”

“I’ll be here.”

Chapter Six

Kelly

This has been the weirdest day. A good day, but it’s seemed so long. After class, the Adulting Club meeting, getting drenched by a storm, and work, it’s been anything but boring. Even before Mr. Aldrich turned up unexpectedly.

For a second, I thought he was at Cooper’s Music especially for me. How silly is that? Yes, Kelly, the super hot, older teacher who now knows you can’t even afford a car is totally into you. I blame the little fantasy that formed in my head after he dropped me off after school. The way he leaned toward me was almost like he was going to kiss me, but he was only reaching for something. Thank goodness I didn’t lean in or even worse—pucker up for a kiss.

What shocks me is I wanted to kiss him. I know he’s gorgeous and smart and everything. Any woman would want him, I’m sure, but that’s not the way I usually react. I’ve been around plenty of great looking, successful men and I’ve never had the urge to kiss one of them. Never felt any sort of attraction at all.

It’s true, I managed not to embarrass myself in the moment, but I couldn’t quit playing the scenario over and over in my head while I took a hot shower before work. He has amazing lips, and I couldn’t stop imagining what they would’ve felt like if he had kissed me. Ugh, aren’t I too old for stupid schoolgirl crushes on a teacher?

Apparently not.

He’s my last lesson of the night, and he’s just getting to his truck when I start unchaining my bike from the rack in front of the beauty parlor next door. He even walks sexy, with a confident air that’s not arrogant enough to be a swagger.

Stop ogling him, Kelly.

Just as I’m climbing on my bike, he waves. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Yeah, I want a ride.

Oh my god. Where did that thought come from? Who do I think I’m kidding? I couldn’t ride him if he wanted me to. That’s one thing Stanley used to taunt me about that’s true. I can still hear his smug voice when I’d refuse to sleep with him, “You wouldn’t know what to do with it, anyway.”

Mr. Aldrich stares at me, and I remember he’s waiting for a response. “It’s not raining.”

“I’m going that way,” he laughs, and the next thing I know, I’m back in his truck. The ride home is much shorter than it is from school, but it still gives us a few minutes to talk.

“You mentioned your grandmother’s retirement home has people come in to entertain them?”

“Occasionally. Usually family members. I know the choir from the high school comes in to sing around the holidays.”

Giving piano lessons is fun, but it’s still work, and with all my other responsibilities at work, it’s not like I can play for fun. I’d love an opportunity to play just for the sake of it. Especially for people who would enjoy and appreciate it. “Can anyone volunteer?”

He parks in front of my apartment then turns to regard me. “They’re always looking for volunteers.”

“I’d like to. I don’t have my own piano and I’d love an opportunity to play more. What’s the name of the retirement home? I’ll give them a call.”

“Shady Acres.” The streetlight half lights his face and damn, those eyes are striking. I have a long moment to admire them as he seems to be considering his next words. “You could meet me there and play when I visit if you like. Then you could talk with the managers to see how the volunteer program works.” His lips tilt into a smile. “Just don’t let my secret slip about learning to play.”

“My lips are sealed. How far away is the home?” Hopefully, it’s close enough to bike to, but I can Rideshare if it isn’t too often.

“It’s on the south side of town. A bit far for a bike ride. Is your car in the shop?”

“No, it’s…gone. It’s a long story.” And an embarrassing one I don’t want to explain here. “But I can Rideshare and meet you.”

He looks like he wants to speak a few times before he finally says, “We’ll work something out.”

We get out, and he pulls my bike out of the back of his truck. “See you tomorrow at nine, Mr. Aldrich.”

“Looking forward to it, Ms. Bryant.”

The girly, flirty part of my brain that has somehow been shaken awake after a lifetime of hibernation really wants to read into that statement.