Page 10 of A Novel Seduction

“And there’s the English teacher coming out,” Drake said, laughing. “So what do you say, Evie? Let me read to you?”

Drake’s words hung in the air, and Evie felt her heart rate pick up. She wanted so badly to curl up and listen to Drake’s rough, deep voice read to her. Listening to him read out loud to her in college had been like a dream, and she could only imagine how much better it would be now. There was just one problem.

“There is a no fraternization policy for faculty and staff,” Evie said.

“Um, did I or did I not get introduced to a pair of married math teachers?”

“They’ve been married for almost forty years. They’re exempt,” she answered.

“It’s just reading. I don’t see how anyone can find fault in that.”

“But—”

“Evie,” Drake cut her off. “If you don’t want to, just say so. But if you do, then don’t hide behind a stupid policy. I want this. I want you. It’s just reading, nothing more, unless we both decide that more could be fun. Please, let me read to you.”

Biting her bottom lip, Evie searched for the courage to say what she wanted. She could do this. She could be just like the heroines in her books, and tell the tall, dark, and oh-so-sexy man in front of her exactly what she desired.

“I’d like that.”

5

Drake’s phone vibrated against the counter with a new text. Putting down the spatula he had been using to move the veggies around in the wok, he leaned over to see who it was.

Evie: Closest guest spot was three buildings over

He laughed lightly to himself as he typed back that the door was open and to let herself in. He still didn’t fully understand why she didn’t just follow him back to his place after school, but he wasn’t going to push the issue. It’d been exactly a week since their phone escapade and only four days since she agreed to let him read to her. Even though they’d seen each other at school every day this week, and he’d read to her over the phone every night, he was still more than a little surprised when she agreed to let him cook her dinner tonight.

While she was still her quiet, reserved self most of the time they were together, Evie was starting to let her guard down. She no longer seemed on edge when he picked her up from her classroom to go to lunch or when he walked her to her car in the evening. Their lunch time conversations probably seemed pretty mundane to an outsider, since they stuck mostly to school-specific topics, but Drake was pretty sure he could listen to Evie talk forever about the nuances of class schedules, the annual teachers versus students volleyball tournament at the holidays, and which students were most likely to give him trouble.

Their evening conversations, though, were an entirely different matter. They’d settled into a routine of Drake calling Evie at seven thirty each night, after they’d had a chance to get home, eat, and settle in. Their conversations had started out a little awkward, but pretty quickly started to flow like they’d been doing this for years. Usually after about an hour or so of just talking, they’d each settle into their own beds, and Drake would read to Evie from the book he had given her on Monday.

This book was a little too sappy for Drake’s taste, but Evie seemed to be enjoying it, so he kept his comments to himself. He’d been tempted to ask her after one of the steamy scenes last night if she was as turned on as he was and if she was taking matters into her own hand, but he stopped himself. She had made such a point that she didn’t read these books just for the sex, and he wanted her to know that he respected that. That he wasn’t in this just for that either. That he was in this for her.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!” Evie’s sweet voice called as she walked through the door of his apartment.

“Totally fine, just finishing up. Make yourself comfy!”

Pulling the wok off the stovetop, he plated the stir fry on top of some rice, grabbed utensils, and headed toward the living/dining room combo area with both plates in hand. As he turned the corner from the little kitchen into the living area, he found Evie standing next to the coffee table, still holding on to her purse. She had changed out of her school clothes and into what had been her go-to outfit in college—a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. Even in her comfy clothes, she looked anything but.

“When I said make yourself comfy, I meant it. You look like you’re waiting on a bus,” he said teasingly. He set the plates on the dining table and turned back toward her and slid her purse off her shoulder. After dropping it on the floor by the couch, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He dropped his head slightly so his lips pressed against her forehead and kissed her lightly. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi,” she said sheepishly.

“Get everything you needed to do taken care of?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good. Sit—I made stir fry. Hope that’s cool,” he said, leading her to the table and pulling out her chair.

“Yum! I had no idea you could cook,” she said as she sat down.

“I can do the basics. I had such a specific diet when I was playing ball, it was just easier to learn how to make a few key dishes myself and live off those. Stir fry was one.”

“It’s delicious,” she said after taking a bite.

“Glad you think so.”

“This has been a really difficult transition for you, huh?” she asked.