Page 43 of The Headmaster’s Rule

“We could put a bench here.” She motions by the path, but I shake my head.

“The drainage is no good there. It floods when it rains.”

She issues a small laugh. “Of course it does.” Her eyes shimmer, lingering on me as she adds softly, “I like when you do that.”

I blink, taken aback. “Do what?”

“When you’re just… you. Practical. Serious. Careful.” Her lips quirk a little. “Even when you’re correcting me.”

Warmth hits my cheeks, surprising me. I’m the opposite of her positivity, the rain to her sunshine.

And she… likes it?

I frown, glancing away. She shouldn’t say things like that. Not when I’m her boss. Not when I’ve already crossed a line by wanting her. Not when I can’t afford another mistake.

But I want her to. God, I want her to.

Which is exactly why I force myself to take a step back.

“I need to get on with checking the grounds,” I say, desperately trying to put that wall back between us, but when I see the flash of hurt on her face, too quick for her to hide, I feel like an asshole.

It’s not her fault I’m having all kinds of inappropriate feelings. Not her fault I’m a miserable, jaded bastard who’s too worried about what could go wrong to appreciate what a gift she is.

Eleanor’s brows slam down, then she lifts her chin, her expression shuttering. “Right. Of course.” There’s a bitter edge to her voice I’ve never heard before. “Sorry to hold you up.” Then she turns and stalks along the gravel path in the fading light, and I trail miserably after, kicking at the fallen leaves in agitation. I feel the strongest urge to apologize, but what would I say?

I’m sorry for being a jerk.

I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you.

I’m sorry I’m falling for you.

I linger under the blazing red of the maple trees, wishing everything could be different. That she didn’t work for me, that we hadn’t met this way. It’s nearly dark by the time I finally arrive at the entrance to the main building. I’m still undecided on what to say when Eleanor appears again, bag over her shoulder, eyes downcast as she slips out into the evening.

“Wait,” I say, against my better judgment.

She stops, not meeting my gaze.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Her eyes flick briefly to mine, then away. Walking her to her car is the worst idea, especially after what almost happened last night, but there’s no way in hell she’s walking there alone. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.

I fall into step beside her, jamming my hands into my pockets. “I’m sorry,” I hear myself mutter. God, what am I doing?

Eleanor is silent for a beat. I listen to our feet crunching over the gravel, our uneven breathing.

“It’s fine,” she mumbles at last.

But it’s not fine. Not for me, at least.

“School safety is my priority,” I say vaguely. I’m not sure if I’m referring to the fact that I pushed her away under the guise of checking the school grounds, or that nothing could happen between us because of the scandal it would cause, but the ambiguity works in my favor.

“I understand.” She walks stiffly beside me, gripping her tote bag, eyes straight ahead. Even in the dim light I can see her grim expression.

I fucking hate myself. One minute she’s in the garden, bubbly and excited as she talks about the project, the next she’s rushing to her car, tense and shut down.

I did that to her. That’s my fault.

And before I can stop myself, the words spill from my mouth. “I’ve been under a lot of scrutiny since last year’s fundraiser. I have to be careful.”