Page 14 of I Can Fix That


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I was the first one to break. “Well, look at you all dressed up. You know, you don’t look like you just stepped off a tractor for once.” He stared down at my dress, his dark eyes scanning my body. I felt like I was on display.

“And you don’t look like a seven-year-old playing dress-up with your mom’s clothes.” His teasing made me happy, and I felt that he was slowly opening up even though he was still showing his dry personality. I giggled lightly. “You know I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

We both took a seat on opposite ends of the couch, leaving plenty of space between us. I crossed one leg over the other and took a sip of my fancy water bottle, wondering where we went from here. Looking back to where Ashley was, I found she had moved, and I’d lost sight of her.

“Are you not going to drink tonight?” He interrupted my thoughts and nodded his head to the Voss water in my hand. I looked at him and found myself staring a little too long.

“No, I, uh, don’t want to run into any school faculty or parents.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and headed to the bar.

When Grant returned, he held two drinks in his hand—a beer bottle and some kind of white wine in a glass. He handed me the glass. “Here, you should loosen up a little.”

I look up at him. “That’s pretty funny, you telling me to loosen up.” He held the glass out and gave me a flat look. I eye the glass wearily. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I try to hold a good impression in case I run into anyone from school.”

“You’re not that young, and they have to know you can drink from time to time. Besides, do you see anyone you know here? Try it at least.”

He’s right, and I don’t recognize a single soul here other than Ashley. Not wanting to be rude, I grabbed the stem of the glass and brought it to my lips.

Grant took a seat next to me, slightly closer than last time. “Mmmm,” I hum. I had forgotten how good wine is. I hadn’t drank in months, and the last time I did, it was mimosas at Ashley’s birthday brunch in November. Grant’s eyes are on me, and I look back his way.

It was hard to even look him in the eyes with how hot he looked all dressed up. He seemed more like himself, more like that picture I saw. He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I felt my neck getting hot and arousal rising through my stomach. This guy already had me in a tizzy.

“All right, Hart. Tell me about these students of yours.” I was taken back. Did I hear him correctly? I hadn’t even had two sips of wine yet.

“You’re asking me about my work?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Considering you gave me the Spanish Inquisition about my work the other day, it’s only fair.” Touché.

“Let’s see, where should I start? I have a couple of girls who have to be my favorites. They’re the classic teachers’ pets and are always ready to listen and do as I ask. But there’s a couple of boys who are funny too, so I don’t know. Oh, but there’s one little girl named Sunny—” I ranted about each of my students, probably more than he cared to hear, but he drank his beer and nodded his head as he listened.

“I guess I can’t pick favorites. I love them all the same.”

He replied with a simple, “That makes sense.” And it seemed to ease me; his voice lowered into his same monotone but less snappy.

He didn’t appear so uptight tonight, maybe it was the beer. Or the fact I caught him outside his usual work self. Thinking of questions to ask, I got an idea.

“Oh! I have an idea! Let’s play a game I do with all my new students!”

“I don’t like how you say new students as if I just joined your class.” His throat rattled a deep groan.

I took another sip of wine and repositioned my legs. “No, come on, it’ll be fun!” He didn’t reply, and I took his silence as a sign I could move forward.

“Okay, so I normally use a beach ball, but clearly we don’t have one, so let me see….” Dragging my last word out, I look at our surroundings, trying to find something as similar as possible.

“Ah! Here!” I picked up a small clear decorative pebble that sat in a glass bowl on the coffee table in front of us. There were at least a hundred in the bowl, so I didn’t feel bad taking just one.

“Okay, so this is the speaking bal—I mean pebble. You have to toss the pebble to the next person in the circle—”

“We’re the only ones here.”

“Shh.”

He finished his beer. “At least let me get one more for this?” I nodded yes and watched him grab another beer at the bar, sipping on my white wine. I could see why that lady hired Grant just to stare at his ass.

When he came back to take a seat, noticeably closer this time, he took the twist top off his new beer, holding it tight around the neck with his left hand. I lost my train of thought. Feeling more comfortable, I drank a few more sips of my wine. I felt my cheeks flush, and I wasn’t sure if it was warmth from the alcohol or the handsome man beside me.

“Okay, like I was saying. I will toss the pebble to you, and I get to ask you a question, then you answer and ask me a different one. We can’t repeat questions. Got it?” He shrugs and takes another sip.

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