Chapter 4
4
"Dr. Lawton?"
Henry "Hank" Lawton glanced up from the papers on his desk and searched out Wilson Reynolds. His student assistant sat at his workstation with his apprehensive, frowning gaze lifting over his laptop screen.
"Yes?" Hank pushed aside the papers he’d been grading during his planning period. Not for the first time, he wished he’d finished them the night before. And he would have if other things hadn’t occupied his mind. He flicked his gaze to the paper on top. Mike Cutter’s convoluted differential equation made absolutely no sense, meaning it was time to take a break. Besides, he was starting to get a headache.
Tenth-grade calculus.
What had possessed him to think teaching high school math would be a good idea? Oh, yeah, it was his noble thought of, Hank, you want to shape young minds .
Right.
"Um, well, sir, you’ve got another email from j?—"
"Don’t say it." He sat back, grimaced, and rubbed at his temples. The headache was getting closer to becoming full-blown. And here was yet another reason he should have taken that university teaching job. If he had, he wouldn’t have had to deal with irate parents.
This had to be at least the fourth email from one [email protected] since he’d had to make the hard decision regarding the first six-week’s exam. Making the emailer, otherwise known as Collin Webster’s mom, a huge pain in his ass. The first one remained seared into his brain.
Dr. Lawton. You failed the WHOLE class? For cheating? Collin doesn’t cheat. He doesn’t need to. I suggest you RETHINK this whole "if I can’t decide who cheated, then everyone did" mentality. Collin can’t lose his basketball eligibility over something like this.
J. Webster
Had Collin cheated?
Probably not.
He was a smart kid and, as his mom had so succinctly put it in a separate email, no way in hell did he need to cheat. But the identical answers to all the questions over half the class had given—they’d obviously not thought out the whole, maybe the teacher won’t notice we all got a hundred thing—led him to believe he couldn’t trust anyone’s test answers. Collin had missed a few. But could Hank say with all certainty he’d been one of the sharper ones who knew not to answer every question correctly?
No.
The same thing went for the rest of the class who hadn’t aced it. Had he gotten pushback from other parents? Sure. But Mrs. Webster had been the most persistent. Even after the other parents had agreed their child could take a new test, and that grade would be the one that would count.
All except for Collin’s mother. She’d been insistent the original grade should stand.
Hank let out a low huff, settled further into his chair and closed his eyes, preparing himself for yet another scathing commentary on his teaching skills.
"Just read it."
"Oookaay…" Wilson cleared his throat. "Dr. Lawton, Collin insists he wants to take the make-up test. Because I trust my son’s judgment, I have to respect his wishes and let him make this decision for himself. I just hope you won’t allow our communications to impact how you grade his work."
"Impact how…"
Frustrating woman.
He grabbed his laptop and pulled up his emails, then clicked on the latest from jwebster. Of course, the DR in her greeting was, again, typed in italics.
If she wanted to make her disdain clear, she was doing a good job of it.
He clicked on reply, then poised his fingers over the keyboard. A snarky reply was right at his fingertips, but instead of typing the words, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Don’t let her get under your skin .
It was good advice, although a couple of emails too late. The woman had already burrowed in deep.
Sort of like a splinter.
Irritating as hell and hard to get rid of. Even with his best pair of tweezers.
Hank set aside all the snide remarks he’d composed in his head, finally deciding on…
Mrs. Webster,
I’m sure Collin will do well on the make-up test. I’m also sure he will pass on his own merits. As you’ve said, frequently, he is a smart young man. Regarding our communications, I can assure you Collin will be graded fairly.
Truly yours,
Dr. Henry Lawton
There.
He’d answered in an adult, professional way.
Poor Mr. Webster. His wife was a real ballbuster. He should know. He’d never met the woman in person, but she’d managed to do a little cyber ball busting with very little effort.
He grinned and sat back.
Although not all ballbusters were like Mrs. Webster.
Look at Jo. He’d seen her in action busting some balls, which should have intimidated the hell out of him. Instead, all it had done was made him want to know more about her.
And he had.
He slammed his eyes shut, doing his best to keep his dick in check, as he relived how her lithe, petite body had wrapped around his, before she’d taken him deep into the hot, wet, tight confines of her pussy. She’d said it had been years for her, and he’d believed it. The way her channel had gripped him like a fist had almost been the end of him. It had taken all his concentration and keeping his focus solely on Jo not to explode the minute she’d taken all of him in.
Even now, the memory of how she’d moved over him—her small breasts and deliciously hard, little nipples searing his chest—how she’d come apart in his arms, was enough to send his heart racing and palms itching to have her in his hands again. God, even that hadn’t been near enough. He wanted…
No, he needed her under him.
Just like he needed more of the way she’d clung to him afterward as their breathing had settled back to normal. A sense of contentment like he’d never experienced had filled him during those few, perfect moments.
It hadn’t lasted. Once she’d pulled from his arms, everything had changed.
Which was a memory he’d rather forget.
He’d been all geared up to ask when he could see her again—to go on an actual date—but he hadn’t been given the chance. Not with how Jo had obviously made up her mind otherwise. His heart had taken a huge hit when the woman he’d bet his massive student loan debt on was the one tell him he was nothing but a one-night stand had dried the words up in his mouth.
After that, she’d basically bolted away from him.
Standing shirtless and shoeless in the cold, with the brisk wind picking up, had sent gooseflesh popping up on his skin as he’d watched her go. All while another kind of chill had raced up his spine as her hurried steps had taken her to her nearby car—alone—without one backward glance, before getting in and driving away.
Still did.
"The bell rang, Dr. Lawton. Do you need anything else before I go?"
"Hmm?" Hank glanced up at the clock hanging on the beige, cinderblock wall in the back of his classroom, then over at his assistant gathering his books. He hadn’t even heard it. "No, thanks, Wilson. See you tomorrow."
While Wilson made fast tracks from the room, some of his second period class filed in, chatting and taking their seats.
And there he was.
Collin Webster.
Tall and lanky, with wavy, light-brown hair. And, at the moment, sporting red cheeks as he approached Hank’s desk.
"Dr. Lawton?" Hank sat forward and crossed his arms on his desk, eyeing an ever-reddening Collin finishing with, "Umm…"
Might as well give the kid a break.
"Yes, Collin?"
"Well…" Collin straightened to his full height—just over six feet—with determination filling his hazel eyes. "I just wanted to let you know I’d like to take the make-up exam." Then his look of bravado sort of faded. "If that’s okay."
"It is." Relief flooded the young man’s features until Hank added, "Your mom has already let me know."
"I wish she wouldn’t do that kind of cr…" His eyes widened as he stammered out, "Um…uh…stuff."
Hank held in his grin. That Collin was embarrassed he was about to say crap told him a few more things about him. It made him like the kid even more.
No matter who his mother was.
"I’m sure your mom and dad just want what’s best for you."
"It’s just me and Mom." Collin’s slight grin reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t put his finger on who. "I don’t have a dad. Well, not one that I remember. He left when I was little."
"Oh, I didn’t realize." So, jwebster was a single mom. That might explain some of her overprotective tendencies.
"Yeah, but Mom does a good job." A distinct look of love and pride filled the young man’s eyes, while his grin widened. "She just worries way too much."
"I guess that’s her job." Maybe he could let go of some of his irritation at jwebster. Raising a good kid wasn’t always easy when there were two parents. From his interactions with Collin, his mom had done a good job with him all on her own.
Whether the woman was a huge pain in his ass or not.
"So, when can I take the test?"
"Well," Hank said, contemplating Collin’s hopeful expression. "If you can take it tomorrow morning before school, you’ll be good for the first basketball practice in the afternoon. Can you come in early? Say, seven?"
"I sure can. I really appreciate it, Dr. Lawton. I…" Then he grimaced and his shoulders slumped. "Oh, wait, Mom has a breakfast meeting every Tuesday and I ride with a friend."
"Can she get out of it?"
"No…" Collin shook his head. "I mean, I don’t think so. It’s something she has to do for her work."
"I see." That shouldn’t be Hank’s problem, but before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "How about I pick you up around a quarter to seven."
"You’d do that?"
"Sure. Just give me your address before you leave class."
What was the harm? It wasn’t like Mrs… Well, Ms. Webster would be around to give him the evil eye.
"Gee, thanks, Dr. Lawton." Collin’s big smile had him grinning as his student’s long-legged gait—with a little extra pep to it—took him to his seat next to Willow Somersby. The strawberry-blond girl with freckles, gave Collin a shy smile—showing off her dimples—as she sat up straighter in her seat. Yeah, he’d bet his ridiculously low salary those two liked each other but hadn’t started talking to each other yet.
And that brought him back to the talk he’d had with Jo in the back seat of his truck. It had been…
The second bell sounded for the period to start.
"All right," Hank said, shaking off any remnants of his night with Jo as he stood. "Let’s all take our seats and turn to page one-o-two."