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I was ashamed that I was living with and fucking one of my students. That was the absolute last thing I’d wanted to do when I became a teacher. The fact that I still thought it was wrong even while I continued doing it as much and as often as I possibly could didn’t help at all.

The fact that I had no intention of stopping was worse even than that.

And several of my poker crew were longtime friends, not casual ones. I just couldn’t imagine someone seeing Nova and I in a room together and not instantly knowing I spent half my day inside of that.

Poker night was kind of sexist, but only kind of. Most of my friends’ wives were at a monthly girls’ night thing called fuck anonymous, a sort of group therapy thing with alcohol, however that worked, and that was what had started the sexist tradition. Men weren’t allowed to go to that, whereas poker night was at least partially coed.

It was one of the few social gatherings my friends’ wives broke off for. In a random role reversal for one of the lesbian couples, we got Estella and fuck anonymous got her wife, Frankie, though going by their couple dynamic you’d think it might have gone the other way.

My friends Mark and Rod, old football buddies, showed up first. They were near carbon copies of each other, both blond and huge, built like football players that’d let themselves go a bit over the years.

I let them in and grabbed them both a drink. They’d be the only ones drinking beer. The rest were more of a wine or liquor crowd.

I’d opened a few nice bottles of Napa cab, my drink of choice, and poured them into carafes to decant. They were heavy wines and needed to aerate for a good hour before serving.

Nova drifted into the kitchen as I was prepping the charcuterie boards.

She was wearing little cheer shorts and a crop top. She was barefoot, hair loose around her hips.

I wanted to pin her face down on the kitchen floor and cram her full right that instant.

Both of the guys stopped talking mid-sentence, staring at her. She smiled at them.

God, she was stunning.

I glared. “Nova, go put some proper clothes on right now,” I told her in my sternest teacher voice.

She shivered almost imperceptibly, shot me a sullen look, and left.

“Just who,” Rod began slowly, “was that?”

“One of my students. A high school student. She needed a place to stay. Don’t get any ideas. She’s off-limits, obviously.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mark muttered. “High school girls look different these days.”

“No shit,” Rod agreed.

“Not another word,” I warned. I couldn’t take one wrong thing said about her. Just could not tolerate it.

They both stared at me. I was normally an agreeable person, and I hadn’t even bothered to use a pleasant tone there.

I stared right back. “Off-limits,” I reiterated.

“How old is she?” Rod asked.

“Not your fucking concern,” I said instantly. “Now have some fucking baked brie, you degenerates. It goes great with the fig jam.”

They laughed, and I tried to smile like I wasn’t being deadly serious. Going by the looks they were shooting me, I didn’t think I pulled it off.

Bella and Ariel, the couple I’d told Nova about, the ones I’d dated separately before setting them up, showed up next.

They were both pretty, leggy model types around my age.

Bella was pale, with blond hair and green eyes. Ariel had curly black hair, and a deep brown, lovely skin tone. They made a striking, beautiful couple. They’d joked more than once about fighting over which one got to have me as the best man at their wedding, so they were practically engaged at this point.

I was a bit relieved that Nova wasn’t in the room by the way they both greeted me. They got a kick out of hugging me between them and kissing both of my cheeks at the same time.

“Our favorite sexy cupid,” Bella said, giggling.