5. Addison
Addison
The weekend dragged by painfully slow.
I was actually eager to go back to school.
To get away from Mom’s disappointment or to see Theo again?
I’m not delusional. I know exactly why. There’s something about him that electrifies me. Maybe it’s just that he seems to see me when no one else can. Or it could be that he calls me “good girl,” and says things that make me blush.
“For the record. A younger me would have died at an opportunity to have dinner with a girl like you. Died, Addison. Trust me, it’s not you.”
He could have left my offer to have dinner together at “no, I don’t think that would be appropriate.” But he didn’t. He said the words I’ve been replaying over and over in my head. And he asked for my number.
It stung a little that I clutched onto my phone all weekend and never heard a peep from him. A secret part of me wanted desperately to talk to him privately, where no one else would walk in and overhear us.
Why?
What would you say to him?
I think I’d say something to make him laugh. To hear his soft chuckle and the breathy sound of it through the phone.
I’m clearly just fixating on the one person who’s being nice to me. It’s not smart and I need to get it together. My life is too messy from a separate teacher issue. Chasing after a different one feels monumentally stupid. I need to let this fascination with him go.
If it’s so stupid and you know you need to get past this, why are you dressed so cute?
I bite back a smile as I climb out of my car.
The orange boho floral print ruffle skirt I’m wearing is lightweight and dances with movement.
It’s also a little on the short side, hitting me just below the ass.
I tossed a pair of jeans in my bag in case I get dress coded.
My white tank has a deep V in the front and shows my midriff. It’s one of my cutest outfits I own.
A couple of guys standing near the door of the school grin at me as I walk up. Ignoring them, I toss my long blond hair over my shoulder and hurry past them.
This outfit isn’t for anyone other than me.
And Theo…
Once inside, I strategically hurry past any of the teachers who look like they might send me to the office for my clothes.
Since I’m early, it makes getting past them difficult, but I manage, using my purse to hide my skirt.
I eventually make it to the door that leads to the greenhouse.
When I rush into the earthy building, my heart rate quickens when I realize Theo is the only one here.
His back is to me as he digs through a massive bin of plastic pots. He’s dressed in his typical dress clothes that fit him in all the right places. I take note that he has a really nice ass, especially in the slacks he’s wearing today.
I set my stuff down and then make my way over to him. “Morning, Theo.”
Not Mr. Langford. Theo. He insisted…
He startles and drops a handful of plastic containers.
They clatter everywhere. His head whips my way.
Satisfaction burns hot through me when his gaze goes from my eyes to my mouth, to the cleavage visible, the sliver of skin at my stomach, and then down the length of my extra smooth legs. Thank you, morning exfoliation.
His face reddens and then he pops his eyes back to mine, a mixture of admiration and horror dancing in them. The expression confuses me. I awkwardly fiddle with the too-short hem and shift on my feet.
“Hi, Addison. You, uh, came out of nowhere. Nearly pissed my pants.”
This has me smiling. “Glad you didn’t.”
“Same.” He steals a glance at my mouth and then turns away from me. “Good weekend?”
I relax a bit and nod. “I planted some stuff in our flowerbeds. If you would have called, I could have asked you if I got the right stuff.”
His jaw muscle tightens and then his intense stare bores into me. “I’m sure you did just fine. You’re a smart girl.”
Rather than preening at his words, I hold up a finger to indicate he should wait a second, and hurry over to my bag to grab my phone.
After I find the picture of my flowerbed, I turn to show him.
He’s staring at me with an unreadable expression that makes my blood feel as though it’s on fire.
Like he can see straight into my soul or my brain.
Like he knows I’ve been fantasizing about spending more time with him.
“Here,” I say, voice breathy. “It was a lot of work, but it was fun.”
He steps closer but doesn’t take the phone. Instead, he stands beside me and looks at the photo on my screen. This close, I can smell his shampoo and cologne. It’s really nice. His arm brushes mine and I shiver despite the warmth in this building.
As he gives me a few pointers to help make my flowerbed successful, I get lost in the sound of his voice without hearing his words.
“Next time, wear sunscreen,” he says, jerking me from my daydreaming.
I look up at him and frown. “What?”
He lifts a hand like he might touch my nose, an almost dazed smile on his face, but then he quickly jerks it back before stepping away from me. “You got a little sunburned.”
“It’ll tan soon,” I assure him. “Are you okay? You seem…frustrated.”
His eyes fall to my lips again. “I—”
Whatever he was going to say is cut off by students entering the greenhouse. He stiffly walks back over to the bin, keeping his back to me. Disappointed, I take my seat at the table and try not to glare daggers at the kids who interrupted our charged exchange.
There’s always Greenhouse Club.
No one to interrupt us then.
I’m tired after a full day of school, stressing about assignments, but breathe easier the second I step outside to head for the campus greenhouse. All the students have gone home, so it’s empty when I walk in. Theo is nowhere to be found, but he assured me we were still meeting this afternoon.
Just the two of us.
As I wait, I think about fifth hour when Mrs. Petra sent me to the office.
They took one look at my skirt and made me change into my jeans.
To be fair, I lasted a lot longer than I thought I would.
But now that school is over, I’ve changed back into it.
Especially since Theo seemed to appreciate it this morning.
I deposit all my stuff on my table and then perch on his stool at the front of the classroom. My skirt rides up a bit, but I don’t fix it. It feels dangerous and messed up, especially considering the horrible things I went through with my last teacher, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Theo is the most enjoyable and interesting thing in my life right now.
God, you’re so pathetic, Addison.
My breath catches, as if I’m caught being bad, when Theo strides into the greenhouse. His attention, though, is on his phone as he texts someone. A girlfriend? Of course, a man like him would have a woman or even a wife. Shame courses through me. What am I even doing?
He comes to a halt just a few feet away from me. His eyes jerk from his phone to my hands clasped around the front of my knees. Then, he meets my gaze.
For several seconds that may as well be an eternity, he stares into the depths of my soul. I wonder what he sees inside me. A lost, unhappy girl who recently lost everything? A slightly desperate young adult who hangs on her teacher’s every word because her friends have all abandoned her?
I bite on my bottom lip, a nervous habit I can’t seem to quit around him.
“You’re in my seat,” he says, a slight smirk on his face.
Without missing a beat, I sass back. “I’m your favorite student.”
A challenge.
He pockets his phone, no longer interested in it, and grins at me. My stomach flutters and I can’t help but smile back at him. Every encounter with him is…charged.
Electric.
Fiery.
Powerful.
Dangerous.
Allowing this attraction I have toward him to continue means I’m willingly playing a game I’ve already lost once at. Am I ready to lose again? Falling for your teacher isn’t really a winning game.
Someone always fails in the end.
“Right now,” he murmurs, voice playful, “you’re my only student.”
I lean a little closer to him, loving how his attention falls to my mouth again. “Still your favorite.”
His phone rings and it disrupts what’s most definitely a highly inappropriate moment. Disappointment churns in my gut as he steps away to pluck it back out of his pocket. He frowns, shakes his head, and then tosses it on his desk.
“Problems at home?” I ask, needing to know if he has a sweet wife waiting at home for him. I don’t see a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Men can be dogs.
But Theo?
He seems so…gentle. Sweet.
He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “No. Recently divorced.”
I hop off the stool and walk over to where he’s now pulling things out of a cupboard. As he sets them on the counter, I start collecting them.
“But,” he says once he also has an armful of supplies and nods toward a work table, “you hit the nail on the head. My ex-wife is…”
“Harassing you?” I supply.
“Yes,” he says in exasperation. He studies me for a long beat as if deciding whether or not to tell me what he’s thinking. Finally, he sighs and blurts it out. “She claims she’s pregnant and that it might be mine.”
For some reason, this makes my chest hurt. Like this woman has an invisible tether still attached to him despite their divorce.
“Oh. Are you excited to be a father?”
“It’s not mine,” he practically growls. “She just likes playing head games. I’m not giving in and documenting everything.”
Relief floods through me. “She sounds like a real winner. Like my mom.” I wince at the last part.
He doesn’t call me out and then proceeds to explain his ideas for Greenhouse Club. A fall plant sale. Providing mums for the homecoming dance. Fixing up the dilapidated greenhouse. It all sounds fun to me.
“Everything okay at home?” he asks, sneakily circling back to my mom comment.
I chew on my lip and then decide to just tell him. “Not really. Nothing bad. I’m being punished.”
He turns to face me, eyebrows pinched in concern. “Punished how?”
I blink my lashes at him, unable to keep the smile from tugging my lips up. There’s a fierceness in his expression that endears me to him. Like he’s a safe space.
“Nothing bad,” I assure him. “I was made to leave Dad’s house to live with Mom.”
He steps a little closer to swat a gnat away from my face. This close, I have to tilt my head up to meet his stare.
“Does this have anything to do with the expulsion you casually mentioned before?” he asks, eyebrow arched in question.
A blast of shame races over my skin, making it feel hot and my flesh sticky with sweat. I can’t look him in the eyes and tell him. It’s not like he’d believe me anyway. No one but Cason did.
“Yeah. It was bad.”
His head cocks to the side as he studies me intently. “We’re friends now. You can tell me.”
Friends.
Why does that make my heart so ridiculously happy?
“I don’t want you to think less of me,” I whisper, eyes prickling with tears. “What if you hate me and think I’m a slut too?”
His face darkens and he takes hold of my hand that’s smudged with potting soil. “I could never hate you, Addison. And, honestly, I think it might be a problem.”