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Royal and I spent the whole weekend together, and honestly, I’m having a hard time walking straight this morning. It’s a good ache, though, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I can’t stop smiling, and not just because I had no less than eight orgasms this weekend. We just…fit together––mentally and emotionally, as well as physically––something I never would’ve guessed after being at odds with him for so long.
And now? Now I have to test my acting chops. I need to be normal . It was my idea to keep this new…dynamic between Royal and me a secret, so I can’t be the one to mess it up. And if I know Royal at all––which I think I do, now––it’ll be up to me to keep him in line with the plan, too. As much as I’ve come to enjoy his teasing, he needs to rein it in at work.
I pause and take a deep breath just outside the teacher’s lounge. Exhaling slowly, I square my shoulders, put on my game face, and step inside. My eyes immediately find Royal at his usual post by the coffee maker. As if he senses my presence, he turns toward me, a steaming mug in hand, his lips twitching like he’s trying to suppress a smile. Then he lifts the mug to his lips, his eyes searing into me like he’s trying to burn away every stitch of clothing I have on. I feel my cheeks heat as my steps falter, and one of Royal’s eyebrows arches upward.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
After making sure the other two teachers present aren’t watching us, I give Royal a scolding look meant to incinerate him on the spot. But he only chuckles, sets his cup on the counter, and turns to grab my mug off the shelf before filling it with coffee. I find my footing now that he’s not staring at me. Imbuing my stride with nonchalance, I close the distance between us, stopping beside him with my back to the others.
“You look so hot this morning,” he murmurs under his breath as he hands me the mug.
Cheeks flaming, I shake my head and fight the smile that tries to curve my lips. “You’re a troublemaker.”
He smirks. “True, but you’ve always known that about me.”
“Yes, I have,” I whisper back, gasping quietly when he bumps his shoulder into mine.
“Good morning, team.”
I take a hasty step away from Royal and spin toward the voice. “Good morning, Naomi. Happy Monday.”
Our boss waves to the other teachers as she approaches us, obviously heading for the coffee. Royal smiles at her and steps out of the way, closer to me. I slide away, trying to keep the distance between us, and he wrinkles his brow at me, mouthing, “Act normal .”
Yeah. I’m the one fucking this up. Not him.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Naomi asks me just as I’m taking a sip of coffee.
And, of course, I panic and suck the hot liquid down my windpipe. Coughing, I set the mug down and cover my mouth as I try to clear my airway. A large, firm hand pounds on my back, and I panic, jerking away from Royal and straightening.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice cracking. “Wrong pipe.”
“You okay?” Naomi asks, looking at me with concern etched across her features.
“I’m fine. Fine,” I assure her, then cough again to clear the rest of the liquid.
“I had the most amazing weekend,” Royal says, pulling Naomi’s attention away from me in the worst possible way.
Because, of course, his words make me inhale sharply, taking just enough saliva with the breath to make me break out in a fresh round of coughs. I raise a hand to stop him when he steps toward me with a palm out, a silent offer to pound my back again. Straining out an apology to Naomi, I pick up my mug and flee the room before I embarrass myself any further.
I make it to my classroom without further incident and plop down into my desk chair with a sigh. First ten minutes at work after spending the weekend in bed with Royal? Epic fail. I don’t know how we’re going to keep this up without getting found out. Between my own nerves and Royal’s mischievousness, I might actually have a heart attack before it’s all said and done.
And honestly, how long can we keep this up? Sure, keeping it a secret is fine, for now, but what if this thing between us turns into an actual relationship? Royal won’t want to hide like this forever. And neither would I.
We can cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, it’s fresh and new. Hiding until we figure out if it’s going to last or not is the right plan. And if it does… We’ll figure it out when the time comes.
Rolling my chair forward, I wake up my computer to check my email before the kids get here. As I’m deleting the junk I don’t need from supply vendors and fundraising companies, a new email from Royal pops up at the top of the list. My brows furrow as I open it, then as I read, my mouth turns down into a deep frown.
From: Royal Manning
To: You
Subject: Game Face
Dear Callie,
If you want to keep this a secret, you’re going to have to do better than that.
Love,
Royal
My brain snags on the word “love,” and I freeze. Then I shake myself out of it. It’s just a closing. It doesn’t mean anything, even if neither of us has used that particular word in closing before.
And we’ve got bigger problems.
I delete the email as fast as my hand can move the mouse, then I open my trash bin and delete it from there, too, permanently erasing it. Popping out of my chair, I stride to the door and march myself over to Royal’s classroom. He looks up with a smile that falters the second he sees my expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning forward in his chair as I approach.
I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is eavesdropping at the door before hissing, “You can’t send stuff like that through our work emails. They could be monitored. You should delete it from your sent folder right now.”
I see the battle rage across his expression as he internally debates whether to tease me for being paranoid, but he must sense the danger in provoking me right now, so he simply nods and looks at his computer screen. His hand moves the mouse, then his finger left-clicks before he nods again and looks back up at me.
“Done.”
“Thank you,” I say, some of the tension draining from my shoulders. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I just…”
“It’s okay,” he says when my words trail off. “You were right.”
My lips tug upward, and my mood lightens. “Can you say that again?”
He grins back at me. “Nope. That’s the only time you’ll hear those particular words from me.”
“That’s okay. Once was enough for me.”
He smiles at me for a moment, then his face brightens. “We should just exchange phone numbers. It’s kind of weird that we haven’t before now.”
He’s right. Most of the teachers here have each other’s numbers, especially those that teach the same grade and work as a team. Royal and I haven’t actually worked as a team until recently, and our previous contention prevented us from getting that personal.
“Good idea,” I say.
“Can you say that again?” he teases, throwing my own words back at me as he pulls out his phone.
“Shut up,” I say with a grin, then recite my phone number so he can save it in his phone.
As I tell him the last two numbers, his face scrunches into a deep frown. He seems to freeze, only his chest moving as he breathes roughly through his nose. I tilt my head and copy his frown.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, and he reanimates, locking his phone screen and looking up at me with a smile that seems a bit forced.
“Nothing,” he says. “I was just thinking we should use Cackle instead of texting.”
Cackle is a social media site where people can post their thoughts, pictures, or videos. I have an account, but I rarely use it except to check on my sister’s beef with Bodacious Buckaroo, since that’s the platform they mostly battle on.
“Cackle?” I ask, confused.
“Yeah,” he says, a little too quickly. “We can DM each other on there, and the alerts aren’t as annoying as text message alerts.”
I open my mouth to question him further, because let’s face it, this turnabout is just plain weird , but before I can speak, the sound of sneakers squeaking against tile echoes from out in the hallway. Royal stands to go greet his students at the door with their silly handshakes, so I just nod and lead the way, giving him a little wave before I head to my own classroom.
The day goes by quickly, and at lunchtime, I check my phone to see an alert that Royal Manning followed me on Cackle. I open the app and follow him back, and a second later, a DM pops up that just says “hi.”
I stare at the single word for several long beats. I mean, I know teens these days mostly communicate this way, but we’re adults. Why doesn’t Royal want to just text? Hell, he didn’t give me his number this morning after I gave him mine, and he seemed really off.
It’s giving red flag vibes, and I kind of hate it.
My phone vibrates in my hand as a video pops up beneath the word “hi.” I tap it, and the screen fills with a fat white cat preparing to jump from a bed to the dresser two feet away. But when it leaps, it only travels about four inches before dropping to the floor and out of sight of the camera. A new message pops up beneath the video, and I laugh when I read it.
RoyalMan: Me, trying to get out of bed this morning after this weekend.
I type back, thoughts of red flags slipping away as my grin hurts my cheeks.
CalliopeB: Same, girl. Same.
RoyalMan: Ha! Lunch in my room?
CalliopeB: I can’t today. I have a ton of papers to grade that I was supposed to get to this weekend. #sorrynotsorry
RoyalMan: I get it. I should probably catch up, too.
CalliopeB: See you after school.
RoyalMan: Can’t wait.
I’m still smiling as I close the app, but it quickly fades. Something is going on here. Something I can’t quite grasp.
And I know exactly who I can ask.