“You won’t.” He jutted his chin to the chair next to him, not the one on the other side of his desk. “I want to show you something I’ve been working on and get your feedback.”
“Right, of course.” I blinked at the irrational thoughts I was having, like he was going to touch me or tease me or do something inappropriate at work. Flirting was confusing.
He grinned, like he knew exactly what was going on in my mind, and I sat, carefully setting my food and drink on his desk. His already-eaten burrito was in the trash, and his jaw moved as he chewed gum.
I hated how much I loved his jawline. It was stupid to admire it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. It tensed with each bite. He frowned when he caught me staring at him. “Uh, sorry.”
“You seem…flustered today. You all right?” he asked, his voice a little lower than normal. He somehow moved the chair closer to me, so our thighs brushed together, delivering an explosion of lust.
“Gilly?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I cleared my throat and crossed one leg over the other to not touch him, but the movement caused a lot of skin to show, and he was not subtle as he stared at my calf. His jaw went slack, and he swallowed, hard, and thoughts I bottled up from all the months ago came back without mercy.
How he kissed without hurry to the point it drove me mad.
The way he touched every part of my body like he had all the time in the world.
His strong arms and legs and toned muscles that came from taking care of himself.
I took a shaky breath as our gaze met, charged with want, and I was about to do something stupid. So stupid, I didn’t think about it when I leaned an inch closer to him. He seemed to have the same idea when he licked his bottom lip.
“Hey, Chris!” A loud,familiarvoice destroyed the moment, and we both jumped as Samantha walked into his room with wide, evil eyes. Her gaze moved from him to me and back to him, a dark glint entering her eyes before she plastered on her fake smile. “Aw, sorry, are y’all working? Chris, I wanted to cash in on that rain check to help me with the spreadsheet budget we talked about.”
Chris?
Budget?
My nails dug into my palm as she pretended to look innocent, batting her long lashes.
He blinked fast and pulled away from me. “We were working on some questions for the buddy program.”
“I can come back later,” I said, needing to put distance between us,now. Samantha was there, her gaze on Christopher, and I didn’t need to give her any ammunition to mess with him.
“I hate to interrupt, Gilly.” She had puppy-dog eyes, and I couldn’t look to see if Christopher bought it. If he did…I wouldn’t be able to handle it, and I ducked my head and grabbed my food.
“I’ll talk to you later, Christopher,” I said, keeping my voice neutral even though the flash of anger caught me off guard. We were talking. There was no reason to get nervous.
“Gilly, wait, we can finish this,” he said, his voice sounding a bit worried.
I shook my head and got out of there, the rock in my stomach doubling in size. How foolish was I? Forgetting she was always around and would be back for more? God. I crashed into my chair and rubbed my temples, completely lost at what to do. She would be around until the end of the month, and if I couldn’t figure out what to do then, she’d find another way to get what she wanted.
I just wanted her to leave Fritz and Christopher alone. I took a long breath as I went back into my classroom, confused at how I could figure out a solution where she didn’t hurt anyone, but nothing came to mind.
My door squeaked before I could even take a bite of my food, and she walked in, her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. This was not a good sign. Not at all.
“Do you think you’dactuallyhave a shot with him if he knew what a spoiled, entitled princess you are? God, you paid meten thousand dollarsto dump your brother.” She laughed, loud, and put her hands on her hips. “You really are leading a double life, aren’t ya, Gil? You’re not the sweet, morally superior school teacher they all think you are.”
“Whatdo you want, Samantha?” I sat up straight and put my hands in my lap to hide the trembling. “You got my fifty bucks last week.”
She pursed her lips and gave me a condescending look. “I need your car.”
“Excuse me?”
“I spoke English. Unless you want your hot neighbor over there”—she canted her head in the direction of Christopher’s room—“to know the truth about you, then I need your car for the week.”
“I’m notgiving youmy car.”
“Fine, then I guess it’s fine to tell him everything, hm? Think the guy who drives a beat-up, piece-of-shit car is going to take it well that you’re a rich heiress? Everyone will know the truth and question you. The award, how you got the job, all thegrantsI hear you spend hours writing to get all the fun things in your classroom. Oh, I listen to how they talk. But it’s your choice.”
