Chapter Six
Who Wrote the Book
Jem had a problem, but he didn’t have time to stew over it, because he was responsible for supervising a horde of five-year-olds.
The day after River proved difficult professionally as well as personally, at around eleven in the morning, Tanya sneaked up behind Kevin at the cubbyholes and pulled his pants down around his ankles.
Jem suspected some kind of horrible internet trend, but whatever the reason for it, it filled his morning with disciplinary action and paperwork and referrals to the school counselor, which was always fun when your students were five.
He drowned his sorrows in the teachers’ lounge at lunch, where he took one look at the vending machine and sacrificed five bucks for three packages of pretzel M it was the kind of environment he thrived in.
But he’d still hoped for someone he could get along with.
Jem figured a bona fide rock star would be pretty self-absorbed.
Instead River had gone right along with making a game out of learning things about Jem—even seemed to enjoy it.
Where Jem had expected a disaffected attitude and a fake for-public-consumption facade, he got something real—more genuine than any true first date he’d ever been on.
Hell, more genuine than most of his long-term relationships.
To be fair, he didn’t think River meant to show his hand when Jem turned his celebrity-crush question back on him. River seemed as surprised as Jem by what his choices revealed.
Which didn’t mean anything—at least nothing more than that they were able to have a conversation and learn things about themselves. That could happen with anyone.
But nobody had ever talked with Jem like that before, frank and casual and teasing, and then looked surprised when Jem made an observation about them, and then kissed him about it afterward.
A kiss that probably also didn’t mean anything, because he and River were playing roles and they had a story to sell, but—
Jem pressed his head against his desk and admitted that he wanted it to mean something, damn it.
And that was why he couldn’t tell Tori. Hey, Victoria, I think I’m catching feelings for the guy I’m being paid to hang out with?
Yeah, she’d hit him with a horse tranquilizer and lock him in her basement until he came to his senses.
Well, that or she’d laugh in his face. Kind of a toss-up, with Tori.
Either way, she had enough on her plate worrying about her pregnant wife and her fourth-grade migraine and preparing to be a mom.
Jem wasn’t going to put this on her too.
He would just handle it. A little heartache in the name of financial security wouldn’t kill him.
So by the time she did ask him about it, while they waited in Jem’s classroom for his kids’ various minders to collect them, he’d figured out what to say.
“Okay, the suspense is killing me. Spill it, Anderson.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and then turned to wave goodbye to Violet and her father. “It was nice.”
Tori had a sneaky way of committing physical violence on his person without the kids witnessing—as they both leaned against the desk, she slipped her hand down next to his thigh and pinched him.
Jem yelped.
“Nice!?” Tori echoed. “I’m going to need more words, Jem.”
“It’s not like we went out to dinner. I just went to meet his friends and talk a little before our date on Saturday.”
“His friends?” Tori glanced around and then leaned closer. “You mean the band? You met the band?”
“Some of them, at least?” Jem had no idea how many people were in the Flat Tires. “I met Eric and Ward. They’re cool. At least in the sense of, like, they give River endless sh—uh, grief, but they were nice to me. They think our guessing game is hilarious.”
“I’m so glad they’re not weirdos.”
Jem snorted and set her straight. “Oh, no, they’re definitely weirdos, but like, our kind of weirdos.”
“Even better.” She pulled one knee up to her chest as Mrs. Hernandez picked up her kid. “Did he guess anything interesting?”
“Clocked the daddy issues,” Jem said wryly. “But then he guessed my favorite musical would be Kinky Boots.”
Tori smirked. “He wishes.”
Choking on a breath, Jem shot her a look. “It’s not that kind of arrangement, remember?”
“Yeah, sorry, my wife let me read your contract, so that’s not gonna fly. You’re just not getting paid extra for”—she looked around to ensure all the kids had gone—“sexy naked time.”
Jesus. Jem rubbed his temple, suddenly aware of the tension headache he’d been fighting off since the pantsing incident. “I can’t believe you get laid more than I do.”
“Super weird for me too. Not that I’m complaining.
” She dug the last of the M they spent the walk to the staff room to collect their things discussing the latest contenders for the baby’s nursery décor. Ivy wanted a woodland-animal theme. Tori was holding out for planets and spaceships.
Jem was staying out of it. He’d made his contribution to this science project already. That was as close as he was willing to come to the middle of an argument between Tori and Ivy, low-stakes though it might seem.