Before I leave it behind forever, I take my key off my keychain and leave it on the kitchen table, not giving anything another glance. I’ve lived here since I was thirteen, and the only good memory I have is the night Julian made me laugh in bed while we talked on the phone.
“Drive your car back to my place.”
I am heartbreakingly quiet.
I watch him drive away before I get into my PT and follow him.
When we get to his place, we struggle together bringing my things up his stairs to the spare room at the end of the hall. When I drop my dresser on his foot I don’t feel bad, because I make stupid decisions and he knew it the first time he met me. When everything is moved in, I retrieve my backpack from his bedroom and bring it to my room. It’s a nice room. Clean and new. The wooden floors are shiny and there’s a window on the far wall letting in golden light. I find my sheets in my clothes and make my bed. I gather my work uniforms and put them in a pile to wash.
I’ve been in my room for the better part of the afternoon when Julian pokes his head in. I don’t look up, in the middle of folding my jeans.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Thirsty?”
“No.”
He comes inside and sits on my bed. “Kael,” he starts to say then stops.
“Just get out.”
“No. I apologize for the things I said to you. I can’t believe you’d fall for his shit. You’re so much better than him. You’re so strong and levelheaded I can’t understand what it is about this punk that keeps you coming back.”
I stare dejectedly down at my jeans. “Julian …”
“No, listen to me. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for saying it. You need to stop letting people hurt you. It’s not right. You deserve so much more than what people give you, or even what you give yourself. Having sex with him was so stupid,” he moans, losing his cool again. “It was the stupidest thing you could have ever done.”
“I know!”
“I don’t think you do. What’s Nessa going to do when she finds out? How long have you been sleeping with him behind her back?”
I wipe my snotty nose. Tears spill down my cheeks. “Only twice.”
“Kaelyn! You fell for it after all these years?”
“He could have wanted me.” I hold his heated gaze and defend the girl who lost herself under the peaches.
“But he didn’t. He got sex and you got used. You got nothing out of that. It hurts me so much that you thought you’d get something when all that bastard wanted was your body.”
I hurt him? It’s one thing to hurt myself, but another thing to hurt him. Julian’s been there for me from the moment I found him in my spot. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. The thought makes me blubber uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry.” I wipe my tears so I can see him. “I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could see was that I was finally going to get what I thought I wanted. But that was stupid. You’re right. I won’t be stupid like that ever again.”
Sadness chills the gray of his eyes; they’re steel and off. “I think it’s the way you grew up. I can’t blame you completely. But I want to. I want to blame you so damn badly.” He gets up and paces, fingers plunging through his hair.
I suppose if I delve deep enough he’d be right. Everything I do is in some way related to the way I grew up. Unwanted, passed from person to person, never hugged or loved. When I met Brady, I thought I finally had someone who might genuinely need me. But that ship had sailed. I was left alone and unwanted once again. It was hard to put my past behind me, when I hadn’t figured out a way to move on.
“Blame me. It’s my fault. I slept with him. So, I was never loved. So, no one wanted me. That doesn’t give me the right to be a stupid whore. You know the real problem?” I look up at him. “I don’t even want me. I want nothing to do with me. Especially not after hurting you.” I get uncomfortable in my own skin. I need another hot shower to wash the filth off my body. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He sinks to his knees on the floor beside me. He moves so his long legs are around me and I’m against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him so hard there’s no way he can leave. I cry against him, unable to stop now that I’ve started.
“You are not a whore. Say it,” he demands when I don’t reply.
“I’m not a whore,” I whisper.
“Don’t ever call yourself that again. You need to start loving yourself. There’s so much to love about you. So much good and heart inside of you. You’re strong, independent, and stubborn as hell. But you’re also lonely and hurting. I get that. You’ve been through things no one should have to go through, but you came out on top. You’re amazing, Kael.”
His words make me cry so hard I’m embarrassed. I shake my head against his chest. “I’m none of those things.”
“You are all of those things,” he promises firmly.
On our knees, he isn’t taller than me. He moves to grasp my face, drying my tears with his thumbs. But there’s too many for him. He brings my face to his neck and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, nestling against his hard body. In his arms, I feel better, like who I am might not suck so badly. I dry my tears on his shirt.
“You need to start seeing yourself that way. No one can love you if you don’t love yourself first. Otherwise, you’re settling for people who don’t deserve you. Imagine if you thought you deserved everything you do? Brady doesn’t even make the top one hundred. Most men won’t.”
“You do,” I whisper.
His hands pause as they rub my back. After a beat, they continue. “I’m not talking about me.”
“I am.” I kiss his neck softly, where his pulse thrums. I can’t help myself. His skin smells so good, and he’s so hot his body temperature warms my coldness. “I’m done crying now.” I sit back on my heels and take a deep breath.
His expression tightens. He’s looking at me cautiously as if I just bit him and I might bite him again. Then he shakes his head a little and smiles. “Are we okay now?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I smile timidly back.
His shoulders sag in relief. “We should eat. I need to eat something.” He rises to his feet and gives me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up, grasping my fingers as we exit my bedroom. As we’re taking the stairs, he looks over his shoulder at me. “You’re a bit of a mess, sweetheart, you know that, right?”
I laugh uncontrollably. I let his hand go and sag against the wall, holding my belly as I giggle. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. He joins in a bit, but mostly he watches me with an amused look on his face.
“Mess? You’re just realizing that?” I wipe my tears off with my shirt.
He eyes the part of my stomach that is exposed and then quickly looks away. “Let’s go eat. I’m in the mood for something bad.”
“Pizza?” I guess.
“Pizza,” he agrees darkly.
“Should I put my foot down? We’ve got to keep you fit.” I squeeze his bicep.
He rolls his eyes as he opens his front door. “I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know … I haven’t seen anyone check you out in twenty-four hours.”
He quirks a brow. “Is that a record?”
“I think so. Don’t you notice?”
“When you’ve been in a relationship for six years you stop noticing. I guess I should start now.”
Oh, great. “Or not,” I grumble.
He smirks to himself. “How about you?” he asks, once we’re in Jaz’s truck. “Do you notice?”
“Notice what?”
In response, his eyes meet mine at the stop sign, and then he trails them over me deliberately, from my head, to my thighs, leaving a trail of longing and warmth in their path.
I gape at him as my heart pounds. “Men checking me out?”
He nods slowly, clearing his throat and driving f
orward. “Yes.”
“No one checks me out.”
“You are so blind.”
“I have twenty-twenty vision.”
He starts to laugh, then stops when he notices my glare. “You’ve never noticed that kid in the hall after school? I can’t remember his name; he was in my pre-calc class last year. Whenever you walk by my door the damn boy almost trips over his feet.”
I frown, not recalling anything like that. “He does?”
“I noticed it the day you were acting odd.” And just like that, his eyes are off. They’re cold and steel. He takes the corner slowly. “Or that bartender at Bella’s. He didn’t stop watching you all night both times I was there. Or the guy at the phone store. He kept looking at you, but you were too busy looking anywhere else.”
“Why’d you notice it?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. These people exist as I do … just barely.
“Or Jaz,” he keeps going, growing more agitated. “You know what it is? You don’t notice them. You don’t even think you’re worth their stares, so it doesn’t make sense to you. But it makes perfect sense to me, Kael. The day you realize the beautiful weapon you are, is the day I feel sorry for every man out there.”
Beautiful weapon? I picture it, a beautiful woman with dark red hair and a sword, slicing down the people in her way who hurt her. I look out the window. “Jaz is obnoxious.”
“He’s his own person. I wasn’t single long in college, but when I was he was the friend to have.”
I can imagine him with many different women. He could have them too. He’s sexy and sweet, and … sexy.
“Layla made me screech to a halt.” He laughs sadly. “The last year aside, I did love her. When I first met her, she was a different girl. Carefree and loving. We did everything together. But when we moved to Savannah and she was in her own territory again it was like she wasn’t who she wanted to be, but who she always had been. As if the person I met was a lie. I was suddenly immature and unworthy. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. It bothered me that the woman I loved couldn’t stand me anymore.” He’s so agitated he doesn’t even stop around a turn. “I think she started seeing someone else the second we moved back to Savannah. People don’t change like that. It happens over time. She wanted to come home and I wanted her to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“Were you happy?”
He takes a second to answer. “I don’t know. I loved her. I must’ve been. Or I was so busy trying to make her happy I didn’t realize I wasn’t. And a part of me deep down resents her so much I want to scream. I left my family for her, Kael. I moved across the country and took a lesser paying job for her. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. What more could I have done?”
I reach over and touch his arm. “Coming from someone who is unappreciative you couldn’t have done anything more for her because she didn’t appreciate it in the first place.”
He cracks a small smile. “I didn’t mean to call you that.”
I give him a look.
“Okay, I did, but I didn’t mean to be such an ass about it.” He sighs. “I pretty much mean everything I say.”
“That’s either extremely scary or comforting.” I refrain from squeezing his bicep again, or his forearm, or him period, and put my hand back in my lap.
“I think it’s downright spooky,” he teases, pulling into a pizza place, drawing the attention of a group out front.
My heart stops. “Julian.”
“What?”
“I know them. I mean, I’ve seen them at school before.” I point at the kids hanging out front of the pizza place. I don’t know their names, but we have chem together. “What if they know me too?”
He stares at them. “I’ve never met them. Maybe they’ve never met me either.”
“What if they have?” I start to panic. Sitting in the car with him feels far less right than it felt a moment ago.
He quirks a brow at me, lips turned down, gaze displeased. “What exactly are you worried about?”
“You’re a teacher.”
“And you’re eighteen. As long as we’re not having sex in Principal Hunt’s office I think everything’s fine.” His tone is dry. That look enters his eyes. “Plus, we’re just friends, Kael. Don’t worry.” He hops out and waits for me near the hood.
He keeps telling me not to worry. It’s not working.
I take a deep breath and join him. Together we walk toward the pizza place. The small grouping looks us over, and damn it, they do recognize me. The blonde gives me a double look, but I can tell she only recognizes my face. It makes me feel better in that moment to be so unseen. Julian isn’t as lucky.
“Mr. Ean!” the brown-haired boy says.
Julian cringes and turns to him. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t know teachers ate pizza.”
The blonde is looking at me now. She recognizes my face. I look away.
“Yeah, all the tomato sauce helps grade papers.”
They both crack up.
“Is this your girlfriend? I didn’t know teachers had girlfriends.”
“They’re regular people,” the blonde hisses, rolling her eyes at his questions.
“How else do you think you get teachers? When a teacher and another teacher get together, the principal brings us a little baby teacher.”
The blonde leans against the wall and laughs. “Idiot,” she mumbles, hitting her friend. “So, how’s chem?” She’s looking at me like she has me by the balls.
Julian edges for the door. “I’ll get us a table,” he says, letting the pizza door swing shut after him.
“Chem’s good.”
“What’re you guys doing here?” she demands.
“Eating pizza,” her friend intrudes. “Duh, Savannah.”
Savannah! That’s her name. “What he said.”
“He’s a teacher, though. Do you know him outside of school?”
“Yes …” I answer slowly. I want to go inside already.
“How?”
Her friend is starting to catch on. “He’s a teacher!” he hisses. “What are you doing here with a teacher on a Saturday?”
My cheeks are blazing. “We’re getting pizza. Chill out.”
“Mhm.” Savannah looks like she’s putting two and two together.
But her answer is wrong. “We’re just friends,” I sneer. I wrench the door open and leave them outside with their wrong answers. Julian’s at the counter. He looks down and grimaces at my glare.
“They were inquisitive.”
“Shit,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re friends. You’re eighteen.” It’s his only argument.
But it’s starting to sound like a lie. “They’re going to tell someone. I can feel it.”
“Let them.” He sounds unafraid, but his fist is clenched. “I ordered a large pepperoni and two salads. That good?”
“Yeah, sure.” The clerk behind the counter slides our order number to him and gives him a longing look in the process. He doesn’t notice. Right now, I don’t think I’m allowed.
“Let’s go sit.” He takes my elbow and leads me over to a table in the back, away from the windows, away from any eyes. From where we’re sitting, I can spot an empty arcade. The smell of melting cheese and red sauce permeates the air. He sits down in the booth across from me and mulls over the receipt, tracing the date and price.
“Julian.”
He looks up. “What?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
His shoulders sag. “You won’t. I promise. If anything does get back to anyone we’ll tell them the truth. Okay? Don’t lie. Tell them the truth.”
“Even the part where I live with you?”
“Every part of the truth. I know students who’ve have lived with their teachers. Granted they were the same sex, but sometimes when a person needs help what everyone thinks you should do goes out of the window. I am not turning my back on you because
of a rule.”
It sounds like he’s thought about this too. “What if you lose your job?”
“We haven’t done anything.”
It feels like we have. I bite my lip and stare at the table, pushing around crumbs. Maybe my fear is because I want to do something wrong. “I wonder how he knew you.”
His smile is patient and completely forced. “I’m not worried about it. Let’s talk about other things.”
“Let’s. How are we going to work out the rent problem?”
His jaw clenches; this isn’t the type of subject change he was referring to. “I didn’t know it was a problem.”
“How much do you pay?”
“What do you like to do for fun?” he asks instead.
His question stumps me. “I don’t know.” I rack my brain for an answer. The longer I struggle, the more despondent his expression becomes. “I don’t usually have time for fun. I go to school, work, and then find somewhere to hide in-between. What do you like to do for fun?”
He works his mouth, copying my pose by folding his long arms on the table. “You want the pink and fluffy answer?”
“Is there any other kind?”
With a roll of his eyes, he gives it to me. “I like spending time on the water. I’m from the bay area, so Savannah was an easy adjustment as far as being near the coast went. I don’t have a lot of time either, I guess. I spend most of it at work. Something Layla couldn’t stand. I was always up to no good,” he adds bitterly.
He’s still very much not over her. But then again, when I think of Brady, bitterness fills my thoughts as well. We’re still stuck on people who aren’t stuck on us. Somehow knowing Julian is in the same position I am, even if for a while, is comforting and nauseating. He shouldn’t have to feel this way. This … worthless.
“What does she do for a living?”
“She’s an editor for an internet publishing company. She didn’t have set hours, so my hours were a point of contention.”
Everything’s a point of contention for her. How can a sweet patient man like Julian put up with someone who punished him for it? “Should you be working now?”
Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Page 11