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“Problem?” James asks, smirking.
“No problem.” Ten minutes, the message said. Now eight minutes and I still haven’t replied.
James reaches across the table to grab my phone and my reflexes shoot me back a foot, chair legs squealing against the floor. “Fuck off. There’s no way in hell you’re getting a look at my phone.”
“Watching porn again, eh?”
The casual phrase is exactly the type of thing Marnie would jokingly accuse me of and I’d joke back, but with the glint of malice in James’ eye it becomes an insult instead of a laugh.
I type out yes and send it, then turn my phone off and shove it deep in my pocket. “Gotta go.”
“Oh, no. What will we do without you?” he mocks, dragging Marnie onto his lap while she squeals in protest.
“You okay?” Brooke asks, catching my hand as I slip by.
“Yeah. Just need a break.” My eyes travel to James and she laughs, nodding, and I lean over to squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll catch up to you at dinner.”
When I glance at Marnie, she’s too busy with James’ advances to respond and I’m glad. If she’d been paying attention, she’d never let me slip away so easily.
Once I’m out of sight of the outdoor seating area, I increase my speed until I’m nearly jogging as I approach the gate. My nerves are jumpy but in a good way, full of anticipation. I swipe out and slow down as I walk along the footpath, navigating past the flock of lunchtime pedestrians.
At the corner, I lean against the fence, obscuring the board announcing a local wannabe’s stand for council. My eyes search each approaching person and car, though I don’t have a clue what kind of vehicle Mr Bradley drives.
A dark green sedan with tinted windows slows, pulling to the curb a metre distant. When the rear door opens, I tense, and run over when I see the flash of his hair.
“Did anyone see you leave?”
I hesitate, wondering at the secrecy. “Not that I know of.”
He shifts over so I can get into the back seat beside him, buckling the belt out of habit, though we’re not moving. “Good. Sorry for the paranoia. I’m just… we have a slight problem and it’s easier if no one knows we’re meeting.”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I assure him a second before thinking perhaps I shouldn’t be reassuring the man I barely know a thing about that no one knows I’m getting in the back of his car.
But he relaxes into the seat and sends me such a gorgeous smile that worries of nefarious interests go sailing out of my head.
He looks as good he did that first night outside the club. Stunning. Ready for action.
The pulse in my neck is joined by a new beat between my legs. I nibble on my fingernail, suddenly shy. Worried that I’ve got entirely the wrong idea.
Then he reaches across, pinching at the material of my skirt, lifting it an inch before releasing it and smoothing it back into place on my leg. “That dress looks a thousand times better on you than it ever did on Saski.”
My mouth fills with cotton wool and my brain fills with static. I can’t stop staring into his eyes, absolutely hypnotised.
He leans forward to press a buzzer on the partition, and I remember there’s a driver. Far too fancy for a teacher’s salary, but it matches to the income bracket of his house. When he turns back to me, he zeroes in on my nerves. “Don’t worry. He can’t hear or see a thing.”
We pull away from the corner and my chest suddenly grips tight. “Where are we going?” I wring my hands together on my lap, eyes darting from them to him and back again with such rapidity, I must look like I’m following a quick-flowing tennis match.
“He’s just going to drive around the block. My department head raised a concern with me today and I needed somewhere to talk privately.”
His department head?
I frown at him, and he smiles, leaning over to tuck some flyaway strands behind my ear. His forefinger curls and he brushes along the curve of my jaw, making the muscles behind my ear sizzle. I sit on my hands so I can’t chew on them, glancing at him from beneath my lowered lashes. “About us?” I finally prompt.
“She’s worried that students are purchasing their essays rather than writing them.”
A jolt hits my heart, making it skip a beat, reacting long before my brain teases meaning from the words.
The disappointment that follows hits me like a slammed door. I can’t meet his eyes and my gaze drops lower down his body but that’s even worse. That just makes my head fill with sinful images that cram my brain with heat, and I tear my eyes away, staring at the footwell.
