Page 13 of Her Forbidden Teacher

“You are,” I practically spit out. “Don’t forget it either.”

“I’m hungry,” she says. “Want to grab something to eat?”

My mind flashes to a meal between a certain pair of golden thighs. Oh, fuck no. I straighten my spine and attempt to infuse authority in my tone. “No. I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

Hypocritical fucker.

Her face falls and she nods, tearing her gaze from mine. “Of course. You’re totally right. Sorry, I wasn’t meaning it likethat. You’re you and I’m me. I was just hungry. I’ll go now.”

She’s rambling.

Nervous rambling.

I reach out, like I might touch her face, and then jerk my hand back. I’m an idiot who can’t think straight around this girl. After clearing my throat, I shove the door open.

“For the record,” I say, still unable to meet her pretty blue eyes, “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.”

“Okay. Thanks for that.”

Then, because I’m clearly stupid as fuck, I say, “I’ll need your phone number, though. For Greenhouse Club.”

I’m just making up Greenhouse Club rules as I go.

After she rattles it off and I save it into my phone under “Good Girl,” I give her a quick wave. She drives off before I make it back to my truck. Once at my vehicle, I gently bang my head against the hot metal on the side of my truck cab.

Coming here was supposed to be a fresh start, not a whole new set of fuckery.

Maybe I’m the problem and Mary Ellen was right.

I’m not as good of a man as I thought I was.

Since my stomach is now growling and I can’t get a certain girl out of my head, I make the decision to drive to Penny’s house. At least visiting my nephews and sister will clear my head. It always does.

I’m sorry, Addison.

I wish things were different because I’d really love to get to know a sweet, intelligent, drop-dead gorgeous girl like you.

Chapter 5

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 seeTheoagain?

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?