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Burn for You (Flirting with Forever Book 3)

Page 5

by Amanda Bailey


  Beverly waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it for another second. Mr. Madero opened the divider wall between your classrooms, he’s been handling your class and his at the same time.”

  I blink at her, as if she’s speaking in a foreign tongue, like she’s grown a second head and a third eyeball. She can’t possibly have said what I think she did. Oh my God, I’m in so much pain I’m hallucinating. I give myself a shake and focus on her again. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Beads of sweat form and slide between my shoulder blades and down my back. Because I’m not already uncomfortable enough standing here with my lady parts clenching. Breathe, Piper.

  Beverly clicks her tongue as she studies my frowning face. “Mr. Madero. He’s got both classes this morning.” She shrugs her shoulders. “He was in here when you called in, and he told me not to worry about finding someone to cover, that it was the same class and it was no problem to open the divider and—” She pauses for a second. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

  I close my eyes briefly before opening them again, plastering a smile on my shell-shocked face. “No. Oh, no, Beverly, not at all. I was just caught by surprise.” I press a hand to my stomach. “Truth be told, I’m really just not myself today.”

  She gives me an understanding nod. “No problem, sweetie. You let us know if you need to go home. I know how it can be sometimes.”

  I give her a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  I turn on my heel to leave just as Zoey pokes her head out of her office. Her eyes are wide as she scans my face. “Are you okay?”

  I huff out a breath. “Walk with me. I have to get to my class.”

  We exit the office, and I raise a shaky hand to my forehead. “I’ve got a hormone-induced headache coming on, and my uterus is trying to twist itself into a demented pretzel.”

  “Oh, man. I have some ibuprofen in my office if you need some.”

  “I already took some. It didn’t help. And while this”—I wave my hand in front of my angry abdomen—“doesn’t help, the worst part is that I now owe Damon for helping me out this morning. He offered to cover my class.” I whisper, “And, of course, Jake is going to be aware of the situation.”

  “Ugh. That totally sucks.”

  “So, I end up looking like a fragile female while he gets to put on his hero cape for the day—all just in time for Jake to choose him over me.”

  I look at the hearts plastered to the walls over the lockers. “And it’s Valentine’s Day on top of everything else. I just want to …” I lift a hand high and smack a cupid cutout that dangles from the ceiling. “Ugh. Can this not be my life today?”

  “I’ll find you chocolate and bring it down to you—I’ll leave it on your desk in the workroom. Will that help?” She sends me a troubled smile.

  “Yes, and thank you for listening to my rant.” I press my lips together and then force myself to blow out the breath I’d been holding. “Okay. Time to face the firing squad.”

  Zoey pats my arm. “Hang in there. It’ll be okay.”

  Chapter 8

  Damon

  I’ve got my students and Piper’s working on assignments at their desks. It wasn’t exactly what I’d planned for the day, but with our classes reading different books at the moment, it was easier to have them work quietly on their own. Fifty kids at once is a lot to handle.

  Fortunately, these are all good kids, and I haven’t had any issues at all beyond the moment her class realized what we were reading versus what they were reading, and a whole lot of whining broke out. I’ll admit to having laughed a little on the inside at their dismay. I’m sure Piper will be enthused to discover her students are about to revolt, wanting to read something fun.

  “Guys, I’m just going to the workroom for a second to check in with the office and see when we can expect Ms. Mathison.”

  The students nod in response and get right back to what they were doing, so I slip out the door. My head swings left when I hear the clicking of heels coming toward me from around the corner right before Piper appears. Her face is strained, and it falls when she sees me. She hurries more quickly toward me, but I hold out my hand palm out in front of me. “Hey. No need to hurry, they’re fine.”

  She comes to a stop right in front of me. “I’m sorry you had to cover.” She glances down at her bag and her lunch container. “I’m going to set this in the workroom.” She gestures toward the door. “I’ll just be another second.”

  My brow furrows as I study her, and before she can move, I reach out, grasping her elbow gently. She looks completely stressed out, and at the same time, I can tell she’s not feeling one hundred percent, either.

  Her lips part as she glances down at my hand. I let go and tuck my hand into my pocket. “No need to rush. Like I said, they’re working on the assignment you gave them that’s due next week. Everything’s fine.” I try to keep my voice calm and steady, as she seems like she could flip out at any second.

  She nods and walks toward the workroom, throwing an, “Okay, thank you,” over her shoulder.

  I follow.

  If you ask me why, my answer is simple. I don’t know. I have no freaking clue. The kids are fine, but now I have no need to contact the office because she’s already right here. Someone tell me why I’m standing here. Watching her class has been no big deal, however, I can see Piper’s made a mountain out of a molehill—this reminds me an awful lot of my middle sister, Esme—and Piper’s close to a meltdown of epic proportions. It’s written all over her face. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I feel an intense need to make sure she’s okay.

  She puts her food in the fridge, then whirls around to her desk, sorting through things, pulling a stack of papers out of her bag, mumbling to herself, and shaking her head. She doesn’t realize I’m observing every agitated move she makes. I hate to do this to her again, to bear witness to her having another “moment,” but here we are. I can’t leave her like this. She plops down into her chair, wraps her arms around her middle, and leans forward, her face contorting in pain.

  That’s all it takes to set me into motion. I sit down next to her, wheeling my chair toward her. My chest tightens and my voice comes out gruff. “Piper, what’s wrong? Should you even be here?”

  She turns her head, eyes widening as it finally hits her that I’ve been here this whole time. Her eyes blink shut, and she straightens herself. “I just need a minute.”

  The lightbulb finally goes on over my head. Rummaging through a drawer in my desk for a second, I finally come up with a bottle of Midol that my little sister Elena asked me to hold onto for her in case she ever needs it during the school day. It’s completely against school policy to leave medications anywhere except with the school nurse, but Elena has always had me wrapped around her little finger. Since our father passed away ten years ago, I’m the only father figure she’s known and I’d do just about anything for her—apparently, that includes storing feminine medications, as well as other products for her, in my desk drawer.

  My hand wraps around the bottle, squeezing it tightly, not sure if I’m about to overstep one of those male/female coworker boundaries in a big way. All I can think is that if she was one of my sisters—which she is so not—I wouldn’t hesitate. Decision made, I set the bottle on the corner of Piper’s desk, sliding it over to her.

  When her eyes light upon the bottle, she freezes in place. She lifts a hand to reach for it, but pulls it back to her lap, and folds it with her other hand. Her voice is low and she seems a little perturbed, if I’m not mistaken. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  I stand up and shrug. “They’re Elena’s, but you’re welcome to them, if it will help.” I start to wonder if I made the right decision after all. Should I have done that? Does she think it’s weird that I had those in my drawer? That I’d offer them to her? Fuck all, I’m just trying to help her. I don’t even know why I care.

  But I do.

  Her forehead creases for a second before she glances at me, then snatches t
he bottle, opens it, and shakes a few pills into her hand.

  “Water?” My lips twitch at how irritated she seems.

  She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a concentrated stream through her plump lips. Lips that I’ve never really noticed before, but I sure do now. She nods, eyeing me carefully. I grab a bottle from my stash in the workroom fridge and hand it off to her.

  She takes the medication, and drinks half the bottle of water before she stops. The whole time, I’m watching her throat move as she swallows.

  I can’t take my eyes from her. I know I should be getting back to the classroom—back to our classes—but my feet are unmoving, seemingly full of lead, keeping me hostage in the room with her.

  She peers at me from under her lashes. “I’m fine, Damon. Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

  I nod and quickly exit. I don’t know why I’ve started to look at Piper with new eyes, but I’d better figure my shit out and fast.

  Chapter 9

  Piper

  I’m mortified I was late to school because of my murder cramps, and it’s even worse that my male coworker had to help. And it’s especially bad because it was Damon.

  And he had helped. Like I don’t owe him enough right now as it is. I don’t know what sort of magic is in that bottle but I don’t care because it works. I feel much better by lunch.

  I purposely hurry to the workroom, grab my food and head for the library where Madison, Sophia, and Quinn were gathering for a little girl talk.

  When I sit down, Sophia lays a hand to my arm. “How are you? Zoey mentioned you were feeling pretty crappy earlier.”

  I peel the lid off of my container and drizzle dressing over my salad—with chicken, insert eyeroll here—before I answer. Moving my food around with my fork, I stab at a few pieces of lettuce and wince, the memory still fresh. “Yep, it was bad. I thought I was going to die. Accidentally turned off my alarm and made myself so late that Damon had to take my class.”

  Quinn cringes. “I heard about that. A couple of the kids in my second period class were in there.” She puts her hand out. “Not that it was any big deal, but there was a lot of talk about why Damon’s class is reading Caraval while your class is doing Fahrenheit 451.”

  “Oh, jeez. Well, the honest truth is that his class has already finished the required reading and has headed into some other books he’s picked out.” I frown. “I guess he cleared it with Jake, so …”

  Madison scrunches her nose. “So, you don’t really have a lot of room to say anything. That Caraval series is a good one for kids that age. I bet they really like it.”

  I groan. “They will. I’m just irritated that he’s doing something that I think Jake is actually going to appreciate. I wonder if maybe Damon is the right person for the chair position.” My shoulders sag, and I poke around my salad a bit more, not really interested in it.

  “So, maybe it’s time to dial it up a notch.” Sophia’s brow arches, and I can just see her mind working to fix the problem for me. “What if you plan a field trip or some event that your students will love?”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” My brain whirs a bit and lands on what might actually be a feasible plan. “In fact, I think Hadleigh and Sawyer have been preparing to take their US History classes on a trip really soon. They’re going to see a special screening of Hamilton at a theater in Boston. Maybe I can see if it would work to do a joint trip.”

  Madison’s lips tease into a grin. “I bet she’d be all for helping you out. I like this idea.”

  I fork up a big bite of salad and a piece of chicken. “I love it when a plan starts to form.” Now that the idea is shaping itself in my head, I’m suddenly ravenous. I listen to the girls talk about other things all while I munch happily through my entire salad.

  After third period, I make a trip to the office for some copies before heading back to the workroom to get some lesson plans done. When I walk in, there are only two people on the far side of the room, which is where my desk is. Damon leans in and talks softly to a female student. I don’t immediately recognize who it is at first, as he’s kind of hunched over her, but she’s crying and he’s patting her shoulder, all while trying to reassure her that not all boys suck and Valentine’s Day will not always suck—her words first, not his—and everything is going to be okay.

  I clear my throat and make some noise with the copies in my hands so they know I’m here before I come any closer. The girl turns her head toward me, and I realize it’s Elena. She’s in my first period class, the same one that Damon had to cover this morning. It’s funny, I know in the back of my head she’s his sister, but it’s kind of easy to forget with the age difference between them. I can’t recall if she’s ever been in here before.

  “Hey, Elena. Is everything okay?”

  Damon reaches out and swipes a tear from under her eye. He keeps his eyes trained on her when he says, “She’ll be okay. Won’t you, Elena?”

  She sniffles and hugs her brother. “I’m fine. Boys are just dumb. You know how it is, right Ms. Mathison?” She glances between me and Damon.

  I stifle a laugh. “I sure do, sweetie.”

  Elena glances up at Damon. “All boys except my brother, that is.” She gets a funny little look on her face before she asks, “Ms. Mathison, how come we can’t read Caraval like Damon’s class is reading?”

  I purse my lips, embarrassed that Damon is doing something for his class that my students obviously are clamoring for. Even worse, he gets to hear me admit to it. Grr. “We’ve got to finish Fahrenheit 451 and one other book before we can do anything else. Then … well, maybe I’ll have to talk to Mr. Madero about possibly using his class set.” I lightly bite down on the inside of my cheek as I allow my eyes to drift over the two of them.

  Elena squeals and claps her hands.

  Damon just smirks.

  And me? I scowl at him. Jerk. He thinks he’s got me right where he wants me.

  Elena looks back and forth between us, brows raised. I guess she decides her work here is done. “Hey, can I get a pass to class?”

  “Good idea.” Damon quickly pulls a pad of hall passes out of his drawer and writes one out for her so she can be on her way.

  After she leaves, I prop my hip on the desk, eyeing him as he goes back to work without another word.

  “So, I guess that was a great moment for you, when my class found out what your class is reading.” He just shakes his head, but I can see his lips twitching. “And I assume you let Jake know that I wasn’t here first thing?”

  His gaze swings to mine. “I did. I thought he should know.”

  My brows pinch together, as I glare at him, only the longer that goes on, my face becomes warmer, until I’m sure I’m a bright enough pink to match my blouse.

  He wets his firm, masculine lips, and it pisses me off that my eyes follow them.

  “Well, thanks for that,” I huff.

  He chuckles, knowingly. “Why are you mad? I saved your ass this morning, didn’t I?”

  My eyes narrow on his as I’m filled with disbelief. “Yes, you saved my ass, but you’re trying to take my promotion.”

  He shrugs at me with a grin. “Semantics, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t you sweetheart me.”

  “Fine. I won’t anything you. And I won’t help you anymore. I’ll just get back to work.”

  Thinking back to what I just walked in on, I let out a frustrated sigh.

  Quietly, I admit, “You were good with her.”

  He shrugs, but doesn’t look up. “She’s my sister. She needed me.”

  I’m suddenly curious about the man who has already done two things today that I hadn’t expected, even though part of it will definitely come back to bite me. “You’re close, the two of you?”

  “Yes.” He jots something down on a notepad before looking up at me.

  “There’s a pretty big age difference between you, huh?” My forehead wrinkles, trying to do the mental math.

  “Yeah. She’s the baby
. She’s twelve years younger.”

  “Wow. So, do you have other siblings, then?”

  “Yep. Two other sisters. We’re each about four years apart. Arabella is twenty-five and Esme is twenty-one.” He rattles it off like it’s no big deal, but I wonder what it was like growing up in a house with so many women.

  “Oh.” No wonder it didn’t bother him to offer me something for my cramps. I’d bet money Elena has him keeping tampons in his drawer, too. My lips tease into a small smile, loving the idea of that. A gruff, masculine man who keeps feminine products on hand for his little sister. I press my lips together, trying not to giggle.

  “It seems like you’re feeling better?” He says it like he’s asking.

  I give him a quick nod. “Yeah, I’m okay now.”

  He drops his pen and angles his body toward me. One hand scrubs over the top of his head. “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by offering the Midol—I was just trying to help.”

  I slowly shake my head. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. Not really. And now that I know you have three sisters, I get why …” I lick my lower lip before I continue. “I don’t think you want anyone to know you’re a softie, do you? It was very sweet to see how you are with Elena.” My gaze drops to the floor, and my voice catches a little. “And even with me.”

  He grunts and turns back to his work. “It was nothing.” His jaw goes rigid and he won’t look at me, though I know he can tell I’m still focused on him.

  I bite my lip and decide to let it go for now. It hadn’t been nothing to me. For as much as some of it may cause me issues with Jake, Damon had stepped in and helped me today, and I appreciate it. He didn’t have to. And now it’s like he’s flipped a switch and he’s back to the old pain in the ass Damon I’m used to. Swallowing hard, I sit down at my desk to work.

 

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