Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Okay…”
“A few students, in their effort to talk themselves out of trouble, suggested Addison was having an affair with a teacher here, too.” He points right at me. “And Everett and I both saw how you held her yesterday. Seemed intimate.”
A flush creeps up my neck, but I hold his stare, hoping guilt doesn’t reflect back at him from my eyes. “And you believe them?”
“No,” Adam admits, “but I’m a man and not blind. There was something between the two of you.”
I scrub my palm over my face and huff out in frustration. “I am protective over her, man. They fuck with her all day every day. It’s in my nature to make sure she’s okay. But if you’re suggesting I’m fucking Addison—”
“I’m not suggesting that,” he says quickly.
“Good, because I’m not,” I bite out.
Not yet.
“Glad to hear it.” He sighs heavily. “Just be careful, Theo. Maintain professional boundaries. You can be a safe place for a student, but within those parameters. She’s already outrunning a bad rep from her old school. I’d hate for you to be complicit in giving her a new one here.”
I know he’s right, but I can’t pull back from her.
Not now.
We’ve fallen into something that neither of us will claw our way out of.
“I’m your friend,” Adam says gently. “Yes, I’m your boss, but I care about you. If you were in a romantic relationship, I’d hope you would tell me.”
That’s never happening.
“I need to get to class,” I grumble as I rise to my feet. “Anything else?”
He flashes me a smile. “Don’t miss gym day tomorrow or I’ll personally send Everett to your place to drag your lazy ass out of bed.”
I snort out a laugh. “I’ll be there.”
Once outside of his office, I book it to the greenhouse. Unfortunately, by the time I get there, the classroom is already filling up with students. I scan the room and am disappointed to find Addison’s not here.
But then she enters the greenhouse. Her grapefruit scent, more potent coming from the source, dances its way over to me. Several heads turn at her arrival, and I hear some stifled laughter. I tear my gaze from my beautiful girl to shoot daggers at a guy whispering something to his buddy and pointing at her.
Her denim shorts are too damn short for school, but I don’t care. I love them. I wasn’t lying when I said her smooth long legs do something to me. Her pink converse are cute on her dainty feet. The shirt she’s wearing is tight, low-cut, and shows off her belly button.
She’s such a distraction.
It’s crazy to think just last night, I had her in my arms on my couch. We held hands, I kissed her head, we laughed at the movies we watched. Holding her felt so natural and right.
I clear my throat and then prepare for my lesson.
At least I have something pretty to look at.
There are fifteen missed calls from Mary Ellen today. I hate that she thinks she still has some sort of hold on me. I’d like to block her altogether, but she has a flair for the dramatic. That’ll only make her escalate her efforts to communicate with me.
The last kids file out of my final class for the day. I’ve already texted Addison that we can meet for Greenhouse Club if she’s feeling up for it. I want us to make a solid plan for the homecoming dance since it’ll be here before we know it and is pretty labor intensive.
Someone enters from my peripheral and I turn, grinning as I greet Addison.
Except, it’s not Addison.
The woman I was married to and slept beside for years is standing just inside the greenhouse door. Her mousy brown hair is pulled into a tight ponytail that tugs on her eyes. I remember her once telling me it was her secret to get rid of crow’s feet.
“Theo,” Mary Ellen cries out, a bright, albeit false, smile on her face.
I once thought she was pretty, but now all I see is ugliness inside and out. Everything about her is fake. It’s so obvious now.
As she approaches me, she rubs at a small baby bump. It could be passed off as bloated, but since I know she’s pregnant, I see it for what it is. I suppress a shudder as she nears. Not because I’m worried this baby is mine, but because Mary Ellen is a viper in my den. I want her out.
“What are you doing here?” I say coolly, crossing my arms over my chest.
She stops a few feet away and her smile falters. “The principal said I could find you here.”
“But why are you here? At this school?”
Her lips thin out and her eyes flash with familiar disgust toward me. It was something I saw often in those last few months of marriage to this woman. Utter contempt.