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Chapter Six
Isabel
August 26th...
At the urging of Cam, Tara, and my mom, I agreed to Parker’s request. Honestly, their reactions, in my mind, gave me permission to do what I wanted to all along.
I not only wanted to spend time with him again, I also needed to ask why.
Why wasn’t I good enough for him to contact me?
Why is he so hellbent on speaking with me?
Why do I miss him so much?
Why do I still crave his touch?
Why am I so thankful our paths crossed again?
Why do I want to shove him in a supply closet and have my way with him?
Other than leaving a note in his office, which I’d waited until I knew he wasn’t in it, letting him know I’d be at his house tonight, I’ve avoided being alone with him.
I knew if I didn’t, I’d follow through on the supply closet.
On the positive side, my students are great and seem to want to learn. You never know how that can go, some kids being harder to reach than others, so I consider myself lucky that my first year should be a fairly easy one.
Notwithstanding the fact I want to maim a couple of their moms. But I don’t because I’m an adult. Instead, I visualize methods to hurt them and find satisfaction in knowing that despite their best attempts to gain his attention, Parker completely ignores them. He’s professional, answers their questions or addresses their concerns regarding their children, but that’s it.
He’s polite while keeping his distance, yet I see the deer in headlights – what a dreadful comparison – look in his eyes. He silently pleads with me to save him, and because I hate the thought of them being in his vicinity, let alone breathing the same air as him, I do it by creating an issue I need his help with.
But we’re both circumspect, not letting our hands or bodies touch, keeping our gazes tasteful instead of letting them encompass the other from head to toe as we remember what we shared.
That damn morality clause.
After learning Parker was here, I went home that night and scoured the contract, reading that section word for word.
Rule one stated that we must carry ourselves in a manner befitting a staff member of Kensington Academy. It then went on to list how one does that. Ad nauseam.
Rule two forbids fraternization between co-workers as well as a teacher or any person in administration and a parent or guardian.
I quit reading after that. That told me what I’d already known. Even if I forgave Parker, we still couldn’t be together.
I consoled myself with the fact none of those women could have him either. Not that it eased the ache in my heart.
Smoothing my skirt, my traitorous heart telling me it was smart to wear this one, I knock on his door. It jerks open before I even finish, like he was standing there waiting for me to arrive.
Could he be as anxious as I am?
“There she is,” he whispers and my mind recalls all the other times I heard that exact phrase. Each time we’d meet up in Sizzle Beach, he’d see me and say it.
He places his hand on the small of my back and escorts me inside where he promptly begins a tour of his home. It’s lovely, and I tell him so. He seems pleased by my appreciation and I get the feeling how I view his personal space really matters to him.
We return to the foyer and he leads me toward the living room where I sit on the couch and wonder what happens next. I’ve never, not even when he was a stranger in the bar, felt awkward with him. Sadly, that is no longer true.
“Why did you want me here?”
“Because I missed the hell out of you.”
