Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
I was definitely attracted to him. Ben wasn’t wrong about that, but it wasn’t just his looks. Everything about his demeanor, how he bit his lip after telling a bad joke, it all had a way of unnerving me and turning me on at the same time, to the point where I had to keep adjusting in my seat as class wore on.
But he looked at me as much as he would at douchebag jock Brian Finnegan or at Mindy Martin, who sat all the way in the back, just as she did in every class I had with her. He’d call on me same as everyone else, no more, no less. I respected that.
Before class began, he drew our attention to some scribbled writing in the upper left-hand side of the whiteboard. “I don’t know if anyone will be interested, but next Saturday there’s an event at the local coffeehouse. A poetry reading. I know it’s early in the semester to be talking about extra credit, but nothing like buffering your grade ahead of time and supporting local artists. I’ll be there, but still, even if you attend, you’ll need to write a one-page double-spaced report about your experience and take a pic on your phone in case I’m left wondering whether you actually attended based on what you say.”
“And you said you’ll be at this event?” Valerie Briner asked, earning a few snickers because by the tone in her voice, it was obvious why she wanted to know. James looked a little flustered, his gaze shifting around the room.
Damn, could a man look like that and really be so goddamn oblivious of it? It almost made me pissed. Want to shake him like I’d wanted to shake Ben. Or really, do whatever I needed to do to show him how hot he was.
“Yes, Valerie, I will,” he said, keeping his tone professional.
“His wife might be there too,” Brian Finnegan noted to Valerie, clearly giving her a hard time. He was a grade-A asshole.
“Mr. Warner isn’t married,” Valerie said, turning to Brian, and I could imagine the foul look she was giving him. “He’d be wearing a ring.”
I kept my eyes on Mr. Warner to read his expression, which was stiff. “Speculation about my personal life isn’t relevant to an event I’ll be attending or this class, so we’ll move on now—”
“Why don’t you want to say?” Brian asked. “Is it a dude?” He and his buddy Daryl looked to one another, giggling like fucking idiots.
Mr. Warner’s expression stiffened further, and tension rose within me. It was one of those moments I knew could make or break James for me. He hadn’t said anything blatantly homophobic since I’d been in his class. But in a town like Wyachet, you never knew when it might rear its ugly head in even the unlikeliest of people.
“Shouldn’t be a problem if it were a dude, Mr. Finnegan,” he replied, his expression unwavering.
The fuck? Again, he got into my head. For a guy who was so fumbling and had all this nervous energy about him, to throw out a comment like that with such confidence, not giving a flying fuck what Brian or any of these other assholes thought about him or spread around the school…
Who the fuck are you, James Warner?
I waited for him to say something, to take it back or clarify, but he turned the conversation back to the reading.
I didn’t figure he was or had ever been married to a man, but I’d seen plenty of other teachers bend over backward to keep even the faintest rumor about them from spreading around the school.
Mr. Warner didn’t give a fuck. I knew I liked this guy.
5
James
Wednesday morning, I was sitting behind my desk, grading papers, when there was a knock on my classroom door. I turned to see Simon Hawthorn through the window. I’d pulled him aside after third period the previous day, to see if he would meet with me during my office hours, and certainly, he already knew why.
I opened the door, inviting him in. “Take a seat. We have plenty,” I joked, sitting at a desk.
He took the one beside me, looking around the room like his eyes wanted to be anywhere but making eye contact with mine, which wasn’t so different from the way he looked during class.
“I assume you know why I asked you to swing by. It hasn’t exactly been the best start to the year.” Simon hadn’t turned in any of his assignments outside the ones we did in class. “Do you mind if I ask if you’ve even done the reading? I promise, it won’t affect your grade.”
He shook his head, his eyes watering.
As I’d suspected, whatever reason he had for not turning in his assignments and looking totally disengaged during class didn’t have much to do with laziness. Something was going on with this guy.