Page 35 of Robbin’ the Rich

I looked up. He looked horrified by his own question, and I hadn’t even answered.

I laughed despite myself. “Mind your business.”

Tyler grinned faintly for the first time since entering the classroom. Worth it.

Dinner was somehow even better than breakfast, which felt unfair at this point. Robin sat across from me in a booth at a little downtown burger place, wearing combat boots and silver rings, while explaining tax fraud loopholes with the same passion I thought she only reserved for violent video games.

And god help me, I was completely fascinated.

“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that you genuinely enjoy spreadsheets?”

Robin took a sip of her drink. “I enjoy order.”

“That was the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“That says concerning things about you.”

“Probably.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head while the warm restaurant lights caught against her dark wavy hair.

I couldn’t stop looking at her. She was beautiful, but there was more. It was the way she moved through conversation. She was sharp and funny, and unexpectedly thoughtful beneath all the sarcasm. She had opinions about everything, from books and games to local politics. Every time I thought I had a handle on her, another layer appeared underneath.

“And you’re a science teacher,” she said, still sounding faintly amused by it. “Which I still haven’t recovered from.”

“Why?”

“You have musician energy.”

“That’s either flattering or deeply insulting.”

“It means you look like you own at least three leather bracelets.”

“I do own leather bracelets.”

Robin pointed triumphantly. “Exactly.”

I laughed helplessly while the waitress dropped off fries. Then the conversation drifted toward family. It was dangerous territory. I should’ve redirected it immediately. Instead, I found myself relaxing too much beside her warmth and easy conversation.

“My parents still live here in Briar Glenn,” I said carefully. “Family dinners every Sunday.”

Robin groaned softly. “You too?”

“Mandatory attendance basically.”

“God.”

Something in her tone shifted. Subtle, but enough that I noticed immediately.

I leaned back slightly. “Bad family dinner?”

Her expression tightened for just a second before she looked down at her drink.

“Not usually,” she admitted quietly. “But last time I went over there we got into a fight.”

Concern flickered through me. “Is everything okay now?”

Robin shrugged one shoulder, but the movement looked tense instead of casual. “I don’t know… Maybe?” She hesitated briefly before continuing. “My parents are thinking about joining a church. Which, I mean, that in itself is fine, I won’t go, but if they go fine. It's just the one they picked. I hate it.”