Chapter 17 Master Yoda #2
He looked over at me, and I met his gaze. His eyes were warm espresso. “They just wanted to be seen. Respected. Talked to like people with opinions worth having.”
I hummed in appreciation. “I think that’s what everyone wants.” It was what I wanted.
“So, I took that idea and combined it with what I was already trying to do—to highlight the best parts of chemistry. I threw out the whole methodology that I had been using prior to that point and rewrote it from square one. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked a hell of a lot better.
And over the next couple of years, I refined it until I had something that worked really well. ”
“The students were hanging on your every word today.” I forcibly squashed down the snake of jealousy that stirred at my admission. “But, if things were finally going so well at your old school, why did you leave? Why come here?”
Jack took a seat at one of the study tables—the library was empty since sixth period classes were going on—sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. I took the seat across from him, and his eyes locked onto mine, captivating and intense.
“That’s kind of a long story,” he said finally. “But I guess the short version is that I was just tired of grinding in the city, and this job pays a lot better. Between the high salary and free room and board, I’ll be out of debt a lot faster than if I had stayed.”
“What about your girlfriend?”
I don’t know why I asked. It was absolutely none of my business.
But when he mentioned a girlfriend, it was the first time that I considered he might not be available.
I felt sick at the thought that I might have been kissing an unavailable man, or worse—that he might be the type of person that would cheat.
“Ah, well… that’s the longer part of the story. We broke up a couple of years after we moved to The Bronx. I moved out and ended up with a random roommate. It was a shitty situation. And it made the decision to come back up to Newbury that much easier.”
Well, that was a relief. I chewed on my lip while I considered his words. It was already bad enough that I was having sex dreams about my coworker. At least, I wasn’t a homewrecker on top of it.
“Stop that.”
I set down my pen on the table and looked up at him. “Stop what?”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nevermind. Did you have a chance to look at the lesson plan?”
“Yes.” I scooted my chair into the table and pulled several printed pages out of my bag, spreading them out between us. “I’d like to review the material for this week, so I can get started right away. Now that you’ve explained it, I have a feeling this approach will take some getting used to.”
“You’ll probably pick it up faster than you think. You’re very charismatic when you speak, and the students already respect you. That’s the biggest hurdle. After that, then it’s just talking about chemistry.”
My chest swelled at the unexpected compliment, and a smile bloomed across my face.
I bobbed my head side to side. “Yes and no. What you say and how you say it can make a big difference in whether or not there is comprehension.”
He shook his head and smirked at me. “You’re overthinking it. The students are just people. You just need to talk to them like you would any other adult. The difference is a mindset shift for you. You have to change your perspective of them, not their perspective of you.”
Jack was surprisingly easy to talk to. He talked with his hands, gesturing to emphasize and punctuate the key points. I was drawn in, hanging on every word. This is how his students must feel during every class.
If he hadn’t told me otherwise—that he had spent years developing his style—I would have just assumed he was a natural. His attention on me felt like a tangible thing, like I was the only thing in the room—in the universe—that mattered to him. The feeling was heady. Dizzying. Intoxicating.
I loved it.
I didn’t just listen to what he said. I studied him. His eyes crinkled just a bit at the corners when he smiled. The veins in his forearm stood out when he gripped a pencil. His thick hair fell right back into the same place on his forehead, even after he brushed it back three times.
I took careful notes, writing down everything he said and my own commentary. After about two hours of questions, explanations, and guidance, I felt both confident and exhausted.
I threw my pencil down on the table and rolled my stiff neck. “Okay, I think I have enough to get me through the rest of the week. I can’t handle any more tonight.”
Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Yeah, I was thinking it’s time to head to the cafeteria.”
He leaned back and stretched, his arms extended high over his head.
His button down pulled tight over his torso, giving me a clear impression of the shape of his body.
My finger itched to reach over and touch him, and I was eternally grateful that the wide table separated us.
We had reached a fragile truce, and I didn’t want to destroy it by breaking his rule. Be professional.
I started gathering my papers. “Thank you for everything. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all this.”
He moved to help me, and our hands brushed as we reached for the same paper. It felt like an electric shock blasting up my arm.
He yanked his hand back as if he, too, had felt the shock.
I bit my lip, biting back the urge to speak, and looked up at him, my hand frozen over the paper.
“I told you not to do that.” He practically growled at me, his voice low and deep. The sound ignited a mini explosion low in my belly.
“Pick up the papers?”
He swallowed visibly before speaking. “Bite your lip,” he said, so low that I had to lean in to hear.
“Oh.”
Oh.
Well, that was notable. He was looking at my lips.
My eyes dropped to his mouth. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The muscles in his jaw flexed, and a vein in his temple was pulsing. My mouth felt dry, and I swallowed.
“Is that one of the rules now?”
“Yes,” he said before abruptly standing from his seat and striding out of the library.
Jack left me with a lot to think about as I walked back to the quiet of my apartment. I was in no mood to sit in the crowded cafeteria. But I knew one thing for sure—if he wanted me to stop biting my lip, then he could pry it out of my teeth himself.
I kind of hoped he would.