When he doesn’t pull away, I step closer.
He lingers. Teasing me. The first time, he waited for me to kiss him.
This time, he kisses me.
This time, we’re not slow. We’re not gentle. We’re not pretty. We’re desperate. We’re practically mauling each other. It’s hot. It’s heavy. My heart and my head, who’ve been fighting for eleven years, high five like they’re two cops in a buddy action comedy who caught the bad guys. And for the first time in eleven years, I feel whole.
A knock on the door jolts us out of our impromptu make-out session. We break apart, laughing.
Liam pokes his head into the room. “So that was fucking terrible,” he says, a wide smile on his face.
“The worst deposition I’ve ever seen,” Xander says, agreeing with Liam.
“I’ll schedule in another session,” Liam says, his eyes darting between the two of us. “In a couple of days.”
Liam closes the door.
Xander turns to look at me. A lazy, lingering smile rests on his face. That’s when I notice the faint red-rimmed look around his eyes. “You tired?” I ask.
“I’ve never felt so alive,” he counters.
And my heart fucking grows tenfold.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Welcome back to another school year, Sherman Oaks Private. This is Principal Hutchinson, peace out.” I release the intercom and spin around in a standard swivel chair in my office. I am fucking beaming.
Connie, our administrative assistant, stands next to me with a stack of papers, waiting for me to sign off on a new curriculum with a focus on mindset, well-being, and psychological safety.
My signature dances across the page, proud.
“The removalists will be here shortly,” Connie says, grimacing as she takes in the walls of participation awards. “But I took the liberty of fixing this one.”
She hands me my Best Chemistry Teacher award plaque with Principal Holland’s name hacked off.
“Thank you, Connie,” I say, smiling. She and I are going to get along just fine.
The school bell rings and I stand up. “See you tomorrow.”
I bolt out of the office, across the yard, and take up residence at the entrance gate. I might be the principal now, but I sure as shit am going to ask Aaron how Advanced Chemistry is going.
“Principal!” I turn toward the sound of the unmistakable teasing of my favorite class clown, Jonah. “So that’s why you were called into the office at the end of last year?”
I point at Jonah as he approaches.
“Ms. Hutchinson,” a female voice interrupts us. I swing my gaze to find myself face-to-face with a middle-aged woman who bears some resemblance to Jonah.
“Mom,” Jonah scoffs. “It’sPrincipalHutchinson now.”
She nods. “I’m sorry, Principal Hutchinson.”
“Please, call me Ashleigh.”
“CanIcall you Ashleigh?” Jonah says, interrupting.
“It’s Principal Ashleigh to you,” I retort, my eyes crinkling.
“I wanted to thank you. You’ll likely agree that Jonah is unique,” she says, and I already appreciate his mom’s choice of word. Not bad. Not difficult. Not disruptive. Unique. “But with your guidance and support, Jonah isn’t just excelling at chemistry. His grades are up across the board.”
