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“Oh, good.” Trina lets out a sigh of relief, color sweeping over her cheeks.
I can’t help but smile, even though the sight of her makes my chest ache fiercely. For the first time since the soccer game, the tension in my body unwinds in her presence. I’ve been keyed up, stressed. Like a piece of me has been missing. Or maybe I’ve just been crazy with need for her, and being in her presence is like a single drop of water on my parched tongue. Gaze lingering on hers, I hold back a groan when she catches those beautiful lips between her teeth. I drop my gaze to my papers and clear my throat.
“Katie’s a joy to teach. She’s very advanced in math, and she’s been a leader in the classroom. I’ve assigned her as class helper six times so far, and she’s always carried out cleanup duties very efficiently.” I glance up and grin. “She’s extremely good at delegating.”
Trina laughs. “You know, just yesterday she somehow convinced me that it was my turn to do Mr. Fuzzles’s litter box when I know for a fact she hasn’t done it in a week and a half.”
“Executive management in the making.” I grin.
Trina leans back in her chair, her shoulders dropping a bit.
This is easy. It’s always been easy with Trina. But today…there’s something different in the set of her shoulders, the way she carries herself. I half-expected this meeting to be awkward, but Katrina is completely at ease with herself, with me.
It’s fucking hot, to tell the truth. And it makes me feel like an asshole for expecting the worst from her.
And I can’t help myself. I veer off the parent-teacher conference plan and hear myself asking, “How have you been?”
“I’ve been good,” she says, meeting my gaze over the child-sized table. “I, um, started a new business—well, I don’t know if you can call it a business yet, but I’ve started a project that feels like it could be a business.” She gives me a wry grin. “Still driving my old car, though, so some things haven’t been upgraded yet.”
I clench my hand in a fist to fight the urge to reach over and touch her. “That’s good. I’m really happy for you.” I clear my throat. “You never mentioned this project before, did you?”
A blush sweeps over her cheeks. “Actually, I didn’t really consider seriously pursuing it until that night after the soccer game.”
I tilt my head. “The night I came over?” And you were with your ex.
She laughs. “Truth be told, I was pissed that you came over and made me feel like I’d done something wrong. Then I was pissed at my ex for making me feel the same way when I was gracious enough to let him cross the threshold in the first place. So I guess I have to thank you for giving me the push I needed.” She blinks and shifts her gaze to meet mine.
My heart clenches, and something bittersweet buds somewhere deep and hidden inside me. So…she wasn’t with her ex that night?
Still, it feels like she’s moved on. Like I lost my chance. So, all I can say is the truth. “I’m sorry.” I clear my throat. “I shouldn’t even have gone over to your house that night, and I definitely shouldn’t have made you feel bad about yourself, or about…us…or about anything. Especially considering I kicked a ball in your face.”
Trina just grins at me. “Yeah. Especially considering that.” Her eyes sparkle, and I want her. I want her so bad it hurts. “Why were you coaching that day, anyway? I hadn’t seen you before or since.”
“The other coach had a family emergency,” I explain. “I was filling in. Just the once.”
“Ah.” She nods, and is it just me, or did it sound a bit like disappointment?
This isn’t how it felt with Belinda. We’d flirt over the course of the school year, every single interaction sexually charged. It was all out in the open. She knew she wanted me, she knew I wanted her, and we were both all too happy to make bad decisions together.
Being with Trina feels different. Somehow, I know that a drunken fuck on the last day of school wouldn’t be enough to get my fill of her. She’s burrowed her way under my skin. I want to listen to her talk about her kids. I want to hear her laugh. I want to wake up beside her and wrap my arms around her body, feel her melt into me like she knows she belongs there.
I want to hear about this new project and support her however I can. I want her to be the entrepreneur she wants to be, because I know she’ll accomplish anything she sets her mind to. Anyone with a brain could see that she’s capable of big things.
But there’s a wedge between us. There’s this job. There’s the fact that she was so quick to tell me I wasn’t worth it. There’s her divorce, her baggage. My baggage.
There’s the fact that our conversation right now is friendly, but sterile. It feels a lot like Trina has moved on.
“Do you ride your motorcycle all through the winter?” she asks. When I arch my brows, Trina smiles. “I saw it parked outside and was surprised. We’ve gotten quite a bit of rain lately. Seems like it’d be unsafe.”
“You worried about me?”
Her blush deepens, and a spark of hope fires in my chest. Maybe she hasn’t moved on?
She shrugs. “Just curious.”
I chuckle, ignoring the curl of heat deep in my gut. We can’t be together. We decided. We’re being polite, appropriate. Things are how they should be. I bet she’s not imagining her body bent over my desk right now the way I am. “I’ll probably only get another week or two of riding before I have to keep it in the garage for the winter. Apart from being unsafe, riding in the rain isn’t very fun.”
She smiles, and another spear of warmth pierces my chest and moves lower. “Between the pottery, the motorcycle, and teaching seven-year-olds, you don’t seem to be the type of man who would mind getting wet and dirty.”
