God, I’ve missed her. A man’s groggy, sleepy voice mumbles behind her, and I let her get back to her morning.
“As always, Vic, talking to you is a pleasure,” I sigh, blowing her a kiss before hanging up.
The next morning, I walk into the staff room, Daniel hot on my heels, droning on about his amazing weekend. I sit at the table, waiting for Rebecca’s updates, tuning him out with polite nods.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
“Isabelle,” he leans in, voice dropping low. “This town must’ve changed since you left. Maybe you need a guided tour. I’d love to take you out this weekend, show you a good time.” His gaze lingers on my barely visible cleavage, his sleazy tone making my skin crawl.
My stomach twists. Him? The last person I’d ever go with. “Thanks, Daniel, but it hasn’t changed that much in three years. I’m good. And clubs aren’t really my thing.” I stand, desperate for an escape, and turn straight into a wall of muscle.
James stands there, two coffees in hand, glaring at the back of Daniel’s head. I nod toward the far side of the table, silently urging him to move away.
“Is he bothering you?” James asks, voice dark, and Daniel spins round, craning his head up to see James staring back down at him. “Want me to say something?”
“No. I’m fine. Don’t make a scene,” I hiss, pulling at his arm to the other side of the table and sliding into a vacant seat.
“Can’t stand that creep. He’s a leech,” James grits out. “I don’t like him near you.”
Irritation flares inside me that James thinks he has a say in who I talk to or sit with. I won’t be a possession again like I was with Matt. Never again.
Yes, Miss
His arm drapes over the back of my chair, possessive and guarding, and I snap. I jerk my seat closer to the table, knocking his arm off. We might’ve had a moment over the weekend, but we’re not a thing. Not yet. I don’t belong to him. After Matt, I swore I’d never be anyone’s plaything again. And I refuse to be a pawn between James and Daniel.
James yanks his arm back, crossing them over his chest, hurt flashing in his eyes. Silence hangs between us as Rebecca starts the meeting.
The air between James and I turns frosty. I knew this was a bad idea. We need to learn each other’s hard limits, and possessiveness is an absolute hard limit of mine. If he can’t accept that, then we will be over before we even begin.
The thought of us not working leaves sadness washing over me, the feeling that something great could have been but never materialised, the lost potential, and adding to that, now work will be awkward.
Nice work, dumbass.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 25
James
The last of the instruments and sheet music are packed away, the students' loud chatter now missing as the school lies empty. I linger in the music room, my head still spinning from Isabelle’s actions in the meeting this morning. What was her problem? Daniel had been a dick, talking to her like that, his gaze devouring her like she was an all-you-can-eat buffet. I’ve never wanted to punch anyone so much. But the worst part was the way Isabelle brushed me off, putting cold, deliberate distance between us. She even avoided me at lunch.
All Sunday, I’d pored over the list of limits she gave me. I’d hoped to talk to her today, but she’s been just out of reach. Maybe it’s for the best, after the brush off she gave me. I’d have felt like an idiot letting her know my thoughts if she’s already lost interest.
Just as I turn to leave, my heart slams to a halt.
Yes, Miss
Isabelle leans against the doorway, her hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders, not pulled back in a ponytail like this morning. Her shirt’s unbuttoned just enough to reveal her killer cleavage, and Christ, she’s breathtaking. My mouth goes dry picturing her naked, the sound of her moans echoing in my mind from Saturday night, and my cock already stirs in response.
“Sit down, James,” she says, her voice slicing through the quiet.
Obedient, I sink onto the piano stool. She moves toward me with slow, deliberate steps until she’s at my side, her eyes dark and unreadable in the dim afternoon light.
“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” I murmur, my voice thick with want, barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t appreciate your possessiveness this morning. I’m not an item to own. Understood?” She fixes me with a pointed stare, and I shrink inside, shame at my behaviour gnawing away at me.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I mumble sheepishly.
