But over these last couple of years, my infatuation with Chris has reached an unbearable level. He’s gone from a sort of pseudo-father-uncle figure to this irresistible hunk that’s here to fulfill all my daddy issues.
And I don’t even have daddy issues!
The sound of giggling female voices assaults my ears as I round the corner, and that’s when I freeze.
There he is.
Chris, surrounded by a sea of schoolgirls, all bouncing up and down, flashing smiles, playing with their hair, desperately preening for his attention. A pang of jealousy spears my heart like a hot dagger.
Don’t look at them! Just look somewhere else!
He hasn’t even noticed me yet, but my eyes are glued to his statuesque physique. Leaning against the doorway of his classroom, coffee in one hand, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles of his forearms. His jaw is symmetrical and flawless, and as his lips twist up, I start to melt like a candle.
There it is. That fantasy-hero smile that starts my thighs burning.
“So…do I need to stay after school, Mister Davis?” a blond girl asks in a baby voice, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger. The urge to drop kick her nearly overwhelms me.
Don’t you dare say yes, Chris.
“No, that’s quite all right, Regina. Just make sure you make up the homework for tomorrow.”
The girl sighs, deflated. Chris watches her walk away, and it’s not even like he’s checking her out, but just seeing his eyes on her has my stomach boiling over.
Rolling my shoulders back, I stride forward, envisioning myself on a Victoria’s Secret runway.
I’m not a fake high schooler. I’m a supermodel. Yeah, totally.
My heels click against the hardwood as I approach the frenzied mob of estrogen. Even a female teacher steps in, desperate to be acknowledged by the handsome star of the school. Chris smiles and nods, turns to enter his classroom, raising his coffee to his lips—
And that’s when he sees me.
Hey, you.
My pulse skyrockets, pounding madly in my veins like I’ve been swept up by an electrical storm. Every inch of my body starts to hum with a hidden pressure. I can feel every hair follicle on my arms as they begin to tremble and quickly clench my hands into fists in a desperate attempt to keep up my façade.
I’m in charge here. I’m a supermodel. Nothing to be worried about.
In fact, I push it down further and imitate what I’ve seen girls online do and shift my hips, angling my body to him and arching my back to push my chest out.
I see the recognition in his gaze.
Yes, it’s me. Now what are you going to do about it?
Time slows down as our eyes lock. That painful desperation in my center sweeps through me like an exploding star, and my limbs begin to prickle with anticipation.
Chris’s eyes sweep my body. A spotlight from space blasts down on me, and despite how incredible it feels to have his full attention, I instantly second-guess myself.
Should I have come here? How will he react? What will he do?
His brow darkens, and he pushes through the mob of girls and walks up to me. The lines of his strong legs are visible through his khakis.
And above that…a thick, knotted center between his thighs, like a fist trying to tear its way through the fabric.
Is that…because of me?
My pride swells at the thought. Sure, guys have given me looks before, flirted a little, but as far as I know, I’ve never made one…hard. Especially not one of Chris’s caliber. He’s levels above any male I’ve ever met.
His shoulders are broad and sway like an ancient warrior going into battle. There’s something immovable about him, like he could single-handedly hold up this entire building if it were to fall.
