Her cheeks flush as she clears her throat. “Maybe I can sneak by tonight?”
“Sneak by?” I perk a brow that she even brought up the idea herself. In fact, I’m impressed. “You’d come by the house?”
“I mean…” She shifts her weight and draws those gold irises to me. “If that’s okay?”
My lips heave into a sinister, dirty-as-fuck smirk. “I get to fuck you in my bed?” Sienna rolls her eyes. “You seriously must be crazy if you think I’d turn that down.”
“Well, I don’t want to step into your home…like that. It’s Heath’s home, too, and?—”
“Please stop talking,” I profess, drawing in a deep breath because this woman is just more than anything I could ask for. Especially when she thinks of Heath, too, and that we’re a package deal. “The more you show that you care about my kid, only makes me…”Like you a lot more.“Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
Sienna smiles again and…something tightens in my chest. Like making her happy, being next to her…everything. It’s just…fuck me.
“I can bring food.”
I rock my head back and forth. “We won’t eat it.”
“Oh my God…” She brings her small fingers to her forehead and rubs at it, but I know she’s trying to hide another blush on her cheeks.
“You’ll be doing a lot of that, too.”
She laughs, the sweetest sound in the entire world.
Until it’s not.
“Mr. Wolfe, I’m surprised to see you today.”
Principal Simpson.
And do you want to knowhowI know it’s Principal Simpson?
Because I used to frequent Principal Simpson’s office at least two to three times a week due to my lack of calm as an elementary student.
That’show old she is.
And I wish she had been the one to retire, versus Mrs. Whitman.
Nonchalantly, I turn to face her and can’t help but love the fact that she can’t scold or throw me in a timeout for bad behavior.
If she knew about Sienna and me, it might stroke her out, and I’d finish her off once and for all.
Morbid, I know.
“Principal Simpson,” I greet flatly. “Did you catch me overcharging my cupcakes?”
She doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh, just stares at me like a man with a second head or like I have devil horns finally coming out of my skull.
I wasn’t her favorite student. I bet the woman threw a party when I finally went off to middle school and would no longer sprint up and down her hallways.
“Are you, Mr. Wolfe?”
“Micah,” I correct her. “I think we’ve known each other long enough that we can keep the formalities out.”
“Luca,” she corrects me further. “If I remember correctly.”
And she definitely recalls how much I hated it when she did it.
However, here we are, and I’m currently standing too close to her teacher, who is already on her watchlist.
