“Thank you, Mr. Hutchison! Thank you, Mr. Miller!” they chorus, loud enough to rattle the windows.
Reid, now fully recovered from his turtle trauma, inclines his head like a monarch acknowledging his subjects. I give the kids a wide grin and a wink.
The bell chimes then, and the room erupts. Chairs scrape, backpacks zip, sneakers squeak. Half the kids are already talking about how they’re going to see us out front for pictures and autographs.
Lulu keeps her smile warm, waving them out in neat lines, but I can see the flicker of mischief in her eyes. She knows exactly what kind of circus we’re walking into out front.
Right on cue, the PTA brigade swoops.
“Mr. Hutchison, my son would simply adore an autograph!”
“Mr. Hutchison, could we trouble you for a picture? For the PTA newsletter, of course.”
“We’re so sorry about the turtle, Mr. Hutchison. Ms. Parnell shouldn’t have let the children bring him out.”
“Please don’t rush off—you’ve got the whole school waiting for you in the front entry.”
They close in around Reid like pigeons on dropped fries. He looks cornered, expression flat, but eyes promising me violence later as they corral him out the door.
Pamela, who appears to be the mom queen bee, sweeps in on me, her lashes batting. “And you, Mr. Miller—no need to bother yourself tidying up. Ms. Parnell will handle all that. It’s her job, after all.” She places a gentle hand on my back, guiding me out the classroom door and into the corridor. “Why don’t you come join us out front? The whole school’s waiting.”
Her tone makes it clear she thinks she’s doing me a favor, sparing me from the menial tidy-up tasks meant for Lulu.
“I’ll be right out,” I say, forcing my mouth into something that looks like a smile. “Just need to get one thing from the classroom.”
Reid’s glare toward me could peel paint. He’s trapped under a cloud of perfume, betrayed and abandoned, being pushed down the corridor with his own mom entourage that he never asked for. If looks could kill, I’d be in the ground.
“Don’t take too long,” Pamela trills, already guiding him away.
“Yeah, Miller,” Reid growls. “Two minutes.”
I bite back a grin, then turn back into the classroom, letting the door click shut behind me.
For a second, I just stand there, leaning on the frame, watching her. The quiet hum of her movements after the chaos, the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she shuffles papers, the faintest smile tugging at her lips.
I push off the door and step closer. “You’re fucking incredible at this, Lu.”
She shakes her head, eyes still on the papers. “It’s just my job.”
“No.” I close the space, needing her to hear me. “You make it look easy.”
Her hands still on the papers. “Wrangling thirty eleven-year-olds and a turtle?”
“Making them believe they belong,” I correct softly.
The edge of her lip curves as she shrugs a shoulder. “Everyone should feel like they belong.”
“You lit them up today,” I murmur, reaching out and twirling a strand of her hair between my fingers. “Hell, you litmeup.”
Color blooms in her cheeks as her eyes finally lift to meet mine, and before she can argue, I dip in. The kiss is quick but reverent, like pressing my mouth to the sun and knowing I’d burn for it every time.
I keep my mouth close to hers. “Missed you in my bed this morning.”
Someone calls my name from down the hall, muffled through the door, and I reluctantly pull back.
“See you tonight, Ms. Parnell.”
She nods, and as I step away, I know I’d rather be in this room with her than anywhere else in the world.
