AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Unknown Number: Are you sure that’s not because YOU wouldn’t stop talking?
Allison Avery: Pssh. We all know that’s more likely to be the case in YOUR sections, Captain Longwinded.
Unknown Number: Sorry, Superteacher. My students didn’t give me a chance to talk. They were too busy killing it at close reading.
She hadn’t asked how his classes went. And she didn’t care. Allison would not let him get under her skin. Colin would never get between her and her goals again. She would read every guide to teaching in existence if that was what it took to help her get better. And in the meantime, she’d keep lying.
The sun was weak but persistent as she stepped out of the library and onto the campus’s main stretch. She found a stone wall in the shade and sat down to stare at her screen.
Claymore had landscaped right before the start of the semester, and newly churned mulch and fresh blossoms in yellows, pinks, and reds turned the balmy air earthy and fresh. Bees hopped from blossom to blossom behind her, their buzz humming in her ears.
The rocks pressing into Allison’s thighs were warm. Though it hurt a little, she leaned into the sensation, like the small burst of pain might clear her head.
For something briefer than a second, she considered jamming her phone in her bag and walking away (both literally and figuratively). Nothing good was waiting at the other end of this chat, while at home, there was Monty and her comfy bed and a night of popcorn and cheesy romcoms.
But if she did that, then Colin might suspect she’d lied. Details were the most important part of any story. She needed to add more to hers.
And oh, she did. Over the course of the next few minutes, she constructed an elaborate tale of complex conversations among her class about what it meant to be a hero. These imaginary students not only offered up a wealth of nuanced definitions of the term, but they brought in an assortment of pop culture examples of heroes and antiheroes from Jon Snow to Deadpool to Mr. Darcy to Maleficent and Elsa from Disney. One student, who had experience with Chaucer from high school, even mentioned the Wife of Bath.
Colin didn’t respond again. Not so much as a clapping emoji.
Allison had won.
It should have felt better than it did.
Chapter 7
Allison stared drowsily into her bowl of cereal, wondering if anyone had ever fallen asleep and drowned in a cup of milk.
Seven in the morning was too early to be awake on a Saturday (or any day for that matter). Even Monty was still snoring away upstairs. But after the dream that had shaken her from sleep, there was no way Allison could close her eyes again.
She swirled her Cheerios with her spoon and tried to flush the images from her head. A giant library full of shelves illuminated by old-fashioned gas lanterns, a mysterious mist floating around her bare feet. The beautiful leather-bound edition with the gold lettering she hadn’t been able to read as she reached for it.
The book had turned into a hand when her fingers closed around it, and she was pulled through the bookcase as if it were no more than a curtain. On the other side, Colin Benjamin leaned against a white wall in that way he had, the world bending to fit his every point and corner. Even in her dream, his posture sent all of her nerves tingling.
Only when she glanced down did she realize their fingers were laced together. He’d tugged her toward him. His hazel eyes drinking her in, he’d whispered her name like a prayer. Like a beseeching. Likehe’d been trapped behind that phantom bookcase for eternity, waiting for her to release him.
This is a bad idea,she’d thought as she stepped toward him.
I should turn and run,she’d insisted as she hooked her free hand into the hem of his oatmeal-colored cardigan.
This will only lead to trouble,she’d understood as his palm settled against her hip.
But that doubt was swiftly smothered by the sheer sense of want that washed over her when her chest met his. The feeling was so intense, so visceral, that it had clung to Allison long after she’d awoken. Even now, as she sat at the kitchen table, her center thrummed with it.
Allison couldn’t even escape Colin Benjamin in her dreams.
That wasn’t the worst of it, either. Once she was close enough, he’d traced a thumb down her cheek and along her jaw, mapping the curves of her face. Tipping her chin up, he’d whispered her name again. Lower this time. Thick with desire. Anticipation rattled her heart against her ribs and made her lungs heave. Their lips were so close that all Allison would have had to do was ease up on her tiptoes. Every kiss they’d ever shared played back across her mind as she waited, and waited, and waited for him to cross that small distance between them.
And just as he’d leaned forward, her eyes had snapped open.
With a voice loud and graveled with sleep (and other things she refused to acknowledge), Allison had sworn at the ceiling fan.
Who could go back to sleep after that?
Damn her traitorous subconscious. And that stupid text message exchange yesterday. He was too in her head. Too in herworld.
Allison wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Colin Benjaminat all,never mind like this. How could she forget their past with her brain reminding her how much she used to love to kiss him? For all his flaws, he’d been an excellent kisser, knowing just when to add pressure or release it, how to sweep his tongue gently across hers.
