Chapter Five
James
I wake up before my alarm goes off. I didn’t sleep well last night, and there’s no chance in hell I can go back to sleep, so I get out of bed and head to my en suite for a shower.
It’s been a wild couple of months. I had my background check done, and we started the process of ICPC, so I could get approved to move the kids out of Oregon.
We were very lucky they were able to streamline the process, something Rebecca said happened because they didn’t have the resources for Nash and Sadie to be with anyone other than me.
I had a home study, a day in court, but after that I was able to bring them home.
From what I understand, our caseworker will stop by once a month to check on the kids, but unless I do something wrong or the kids are unhappy, they will be able to stay with me.
The hot water cascades down my back as I lower my head beneath the spray.
Today is the first day of the fall semester.
It’s going to be another adjustment for us all.
I’ll drop them off in the morning on my way to work.
In the afternoon, they’ll have to ride the school bus, then Nash will wait at the stop for Sadie, since it’s a bit of a walk from my apartment to the closest stop.
It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I could come up with, and it has to be better than what they’ve experienced in the past.
Not that we ever talk about anything like that.
We don’t talk about much at all. Nash hates me, though I can’t say I blame him.
I can’t imagine what they’ve been through, and the truth is, I wasn’t there.
I should have checked in. I should have considered the fact that Sandra could have other kids, but I’d just left and never looked back.
Sadie is quiet, and her whole world is wrapped up in her brother. She looks to him on how to act, what to do or say, and since he wants nothing to do with me, she doesn’t either, though she’s much nicer about it.
And again, what do I know about raising children anyway? I’m not good with people in general, so it works out well that Nash wants to take care of anything Sadie related.
I finish my shower, shave, and get dressed in a pair of black slacks and a button-up.
My apartment is only two bedrooms—each on the opposite side of the building—but they’re both large spaces.
I replaced the king in the spare room with two double beds, one for each of them.
The noise coming from the kitchen tells me I don’t have to wake them up. They’re already up and about.
On my way down the hallway, I hear Sadie say, “I wish he bought cereal.”
Cereal is terrible for you.
“Do you think we can ask him?” she continues.
“No. We’re not asking him for anything. Plus, eggs are good for you.”
“Eggs are boring,” she replies, and Nash chuckles.
Huh. I didn’t know he laughed, something I’ve heard said about me before, which is weird to think about.
“He bought us new clothes,” Sadie says next. “And a phone and stuff.”
“Because he had to. He’s not doing any of this because he cares about us, Sades, and we need to remember that.
He got stuck with us just like Mom felt she was stuck with us.
He probably only got us clothes so we don’t embarrass him.
I mean, look at this apartment. He’s a clean freak who doesn’t want anything sullying his perfect life, and that’s exactly what he thinks we do. ”
“He’s kinda weird,” she says.
“Exactly,” Nash replies while I try to ignore the sting of the words. They’re kids, I get that, but hearing them say some of the same things I’ve heard most of my life doesn’t feel great.
“But he’s—”
I clear my throat before walking around the corner, not wanting to hear anything else. Nash is mixing eggs in a bowl, I assume for him and Sadie.
The coffee is already made—I prepare it the night before and have a timer set for it to turn on in the morning—so I walk over and pour myself a cup.
“We can ride the school bus,” Nash says.
“It’s two different busses. Sadie’s school starts after yours. You’ll be late if you wait for her bus.” I mix cream and sugar into my coffee.
“I don’t even know why in the fuck you’re making me go to school anyway. I didn’t go when I lived with Sandra.” He uses her first name like me, I’ve noticed. Sadie’s called her mom the few times I’ve heard them talk about her.
“It’s illegal. You’re a minor. You need to be in school.”
“What’s school going to do for me? I need a job,” he argues. While I used school as my way out, it’s clear Nash doesn’t do the same. Luckily, he’s able to start as a freshman, so he’s only one grade behind.
He’s smart. It’s obvious he is. He just never had anyone tell him that. He has a lot of potential, and school will give him the best chance to make a life for himself. “You need to go to school. It’s not negotiable.”
“Asshole,” he mumbles.
“I would appreciate not being called names in my own home.” I pop a bagel into the toaster and turn to look at them both.
They’re each dressed in some of the new clothes I bought them.
It’s clear Sadie and Nash try to do her hair, but neither knows how to do anything besides tie it into a knot in the back of her head.
Her hair is beautiful but the texture is just not something any of us have experience with.
Clearly Sandra didn’t take the time to learn either.
I’ve watched a few videos online but don’t know if I would be any better at it than them.
“We leave in fifteen minutes,” I add, then give my attention back to the toaster as though there’s something I need to do.
Nash complains behind me again but hurries with the eggs for his sister—our sister—and scoops some onto a plate for her.
Right on time, we’re walking toward the elevator, then heading downstairs and out to my parking spot.
We all climb into my SUV, Nash and Sadie in the back, when he says, “Can I go in late today? I should make sure she gets to school okay.”
“I can do it.”
“I’m her brother,” he argues, before getting silent, I’m assuming remembering that I’m her brother too.
I sigh, wondering how we’re ever going to make this work. “It’s your first day. You shouldn’t be late. It’s the first impression they’ll have of you. Sadie has got to learn to handle things on her own too, and—”
“Fuck you,” Nash cuts me off. “I’m all she has. We’re all each other have.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, an unexpected shock of pain shooting through me. “I’ll take her to school. I got you both phones. You can check in with each other.”
The car is silent after that. I pull up at the high school first, Nash saying goodbye to Sadie before completely ignoring me and slamming the door behind himself.
Now it’s just Sadie and me. I have no idea what to say to her.
We haven’t been alone together at all. My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror, and I see her sitting there, hands folded in her lap, looking down.
Is she scared? Sad? All of the above, I’m sure.
I should say something, but I can’t figure out what.
“It’ll be okay,” I tell her, and she nods but doesn’t reply.
When I get to the school, I check the time. I’m cutting it close, but instead of pulling up front, I park and get out of the car. Sadie watches me like she’s unsure what’s happening, but I open her door, grab her backpack, and signal for her to get out.
She does, and when we get to the front door, I press a button, a voice coming through the speaker. “Can I help you?”
“My name is James Valentine. It’s my sister’s first day, and I’d like to drop her off.”
“Come in, please,” they reply, before the door unlocks and I take her inside. The ladies at the front office help her figure out where to go, and as one of them leads her away, I see Sadie turn and look at me, before they go around a corner and she’s out of sight.
“I just…she might need a little extra encouragement. Her situation before wasn’t ideal. It’s probably going to be an adjustment for her. She just came to live with me this summer. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
The woman smiles at me. “Okay. I can send a message to her teacher. We also have a counselor here for situations like this. They’re expecting her. I think you’re doing just fine.”
I straighten up, feeling strange about what I said to her, letting her see those vulnerable places in me that I try to keep hidden.
“My concern is Sadie, but thank you,” I tell her before walking out.
This is all a fucking mess, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.
*
Up next is American National Government.
It feels like it’s been three days instead of one. Usually, I thrive at work. Teaching is where I’ve always felt like I belong, but today I keep thinking about Nash and Sadie, wondering how their days are going and how colossally I’m fucking this up.
I stand behind the podium of the small auditorium, going through some papers. Students walk in one by one, finding a seat and getting comfortable. It’ll be a full class. A lot of these are hard to get into. The proximity to DC has a lot of history and political science majors coming to Peyton.
“Good afternoon,” I say to a woman when I look up. Then do the same for another and another, and then…I freeze. The air is ripped from my lungs. My heart breaks down the walls of my chest in punch after punch.
He doesn’t notice me right away, but then Sir—shit, Colton—glances my direction and freezes as well.
This cannot be happening. He’s twenty-eight.
What the hell is he doing in my class? Also, I don’t have a Colton on my class list. I would have noticed even if I never in a million years would think it was him.
“Excuse me,” another guy says when he accidentally runs into Colton, which makes him realize he’s standing in the middle of the walkway. He looks as surprised as I feel, his gaze flicking away and then back to me.
It’s me who looks away first, trying to find a way to keep myself calm. If I don’t slow my pulse, I’ll have a heart attack in the middle of this room, and then what will happen to Nash and Sadie?
Breathe, James. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. He wasn’t your student when he fucked you, and he’s never fucking you again.
But he did.
I called my student Sir.
I got on my knees for him.
I begged for his dick, let him spank me…and I crave more.
I close the door promptly when class starts and immediately start roll. When I get to the H’s and say, “Turner Hathaway?”
“Here,” Colton replies. “I go by Colton—my middle name.”
Well, I guess that explains that. “There’s a form in your Blackboard where you can share that kind of information with me,” I say before continuing with roll.
We go over class expectations, grading, and the syllabus together, and then I jump into the first lecture. I can’t get off schedule or get distracted with him being here. I have a job to do. Colton is in my past, nothing more.
I dismiss class on time, then begin packing up my laptop and paperwork.
Students file out of the room, and I don’t look up the whole time, just wanting this day to be over and to pretend Colton doesn’t exist. To pretend the sexy, dominant man full of mischief and a joy for life I’ve never felt, isn’t now my student.
“Professor Valentine?” I hear a moment later and don’t have to look up to know it’s him. I hate the way my heart races, hate what the memory of his deep, rough voice does to me.
The door closes, and I look up to see we’re alone.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I had no idea what you do for a living until I walked into this room.”
“That makes two of us.” Well, I guess I still don’t know what he does for a living. Why does this man twist me up so much? “You know what I mean. Did you lie about your age?” I ask, not wanting to do this here but needing to know.
“What? Absolutely not. I’m twenty-eight. I started at community college two years ago and transferred here.”
“Political science?” What are the odds?
“No. Architecture. I had a problem with a credit transferring over, and I need one more gen ed and this was on the list. I’ll try to transfer out.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. That’s something. At least I won’t have to have numerous classes with him. He’ll transfer out, and everything will be fine. “I would appreciate that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”
I pick up my laptop bag and make it two steps before he says, “You closed your account.”
Yes. I did.
I stop walking. “I’m not sure why that’s important.
” Finding men to dominate and fuck me is the last thing on my mind right now.
At least, it should be, but I miss it, crave it, have needed it over the last couple of months and not had it.
But Christ, it helps to get me out of my head. “It’s none of your business,” I add.
“No. It’s not. I just…was hoping everything is okay. Is it okay?”
I close my eyes. Well, let’s see: my mother died, I got custody of two siblings who hate me, and now the last guy I hooked up with is my student. No, things aren’t okay. “I’m fine, and that’s none of your business either,” I say, then turn back to him. “This is my career. What happened between us…”
He frowns. “I won’t say a word. I would never do that.
We’re two men who enjoyed time together before I was in this class, nothing more.
” He gives me that familiar grin. “Though I have to admit, I did have a lot of fun with you, and before walking into this room, had hoped we could do it again sometime.”
My dick stiffens slightly, flashes of our last time together flitting through my head—the way he used me, being bound, finding that place in my head where I’m able to forget everything else.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “That wasn’t appropriate. I just forgot how pretty you are.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the flush of heat that races through me. “Your apology doesn’t count if you continue the unacceptable behavior,” I scold.
“Damn. Look how the tables have turned.” He grins. “God, this sucks. I wanted you again.”
My knees nearly go weak because I want him again too.
“I’ll go talk to them to get out of your class,” he says, changing the subject and getting serious again. “Sorry about that. I won’t be unprofessional here again. I understand what this could do to you.”
I blink a couple of times because for a moment I’d forgotten why we can’t do this. Just hearing him tell me he wants me slipped me right back into the place where I’m longing to kneel for him. “Thank you. Have a good day, Mr. Hathaway.”
He nods and walks out, and I finally breathe again.