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I’m about to pull away from the curb when Zara rushes back out to my car, waving her arms frantically in the air. “Wait, Mr. B. Wait a second!” she yells, causing me to slam on my brakes.
I open the passenger window and she leans into the car, again giving me a first-class ticket to confirm that her bra matches her skirt, too. “What’s the problem, Zara?”
“I’m the dumbass that didn’t just leave the car keys for her boyfriend, but left the house key as well. I can’t get in,” she says, blushing. Finally, a sense of normalcy from this young woman. She does have emotions.
“I can take you back to the school, if you’d like. It’s really no problem.”
“It’s like twenty minutes away. Can you give me a ride to the factory district instead? I can wait there until Dillon gets off work.” There’s absolutely no way I’m taking a beautiful girl to sit at the factories, where nearly all rape and murder victims are found. That’s the most unsafe idea I’ve ever heard in all my life.
“That seems pretty dangerous, Zara. I only live a few miles from here. If you’re interested in some pasta from Zeoli’s, you can wait at my apartment. I can at least fill you in on what you missed when you didn’t show up to class today.”
Terrible idea, Noah. Terrible fucking idea. Teachers and students should never spend time alone outside of school. I’m asking for it. Fuck.
I mentally slam my hands on the steering wheel as her face lights up and she climbs back into the car. “That sounds pretty good, actually. Thanks, Noah. You’re the best.”
Or am I the worst?
Chapter 9
Zara
I purposely hitch my leg up, letting my skirt ride higher on my thigh. I smirk, because I can feel his eyes on me, my skin flushing everywhere his gaze lands. I want to pinch myself, because I’m sure this is a dream. This is going way too perfectly. Something has to give. He’s invited me to his freaking apartment.
If that isn’t an opening, I don’t know what is. After the kiss, the texts, the call, the show…I feel like I need to step things up before the chance slips through my fingers.
“Have you lived around here long, Noah?” I ask. My fingers twirl the ends of my long blond hair. He shifts in his seat, his hands clenched on the steering wheel.
“I went to college here, so yes, a few years.”
“You like teaching?”
He nods, relaxing slightly as a smile spreads across his lips.
“I love it. I’ve wanted to teach for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing more rewarding than helping people.”
Yeah. I know just how much you like “helping” people.
“Why college and not elementary or high school?” I ask.
“Because college students actually want to be there. I thought it would be easier.”
“It’s not?” I can’t help but grin.
“Apparently not,” he says with a smirk. “Most of my students only take my class because they think it’s an easy grade. College isn’t about learning anymore; it’s about parties and having fun. Classes detract from that.”
He pulls in to the driveway of a four-unit apartment building—nothing like where I live. This has class, sophistication…so much so that it makes me wonder how he can afford this on a teacher’s salary. Parking in an assigned spot instead of the first-come-first-served lot at my home, we walk the well-lit, landscaped walkway to the main entrance. The inside even smells wealthy…the scent of nothing lingers, making me homesick for the first time since I’ve been here.
“The living room is that way if you want to watch TV. I’ll get you a drink.” I nod to where he’s pointing, but follow him into the kitchen, determined to make the most of all the time I have with him.
Alone. In his apartment.
Photos line a bookshelf that sits behind the dining table. I wander over to get a closer look. Picture after picture is of him and a woman, arms around each other, too intimate to be family. His girlfriend, probably. I’m shocked, but I don’t know why. I knew he was with someone, but she looks totally out of his league. Polished and classy versus sexy nerd and controlled. Wait. Sexy?
I study her. She’s pretty. With her straight dark hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin, she is the complete opposite of me…and the near image of Karly. I breathe in sharply. He looks up, a concerned expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks. The next thing I know he’s holding my arm, guiding me back into the living room. “Sit down. You look like you might pass out. I’ll get your drink.”
I oblige and fall onto the oversized sofa, the creamy suede soft against my bare legs. I normally guard myself so closely, but seeing how much his…woman looks like Karly freaks me the hell out.
