Bewitched_Hot For Teacher

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Bewitched_Hot For Teacher Page 4

by Troy Hunter


  “I didn't know if it would upset Olivia,” that was the best explanation he could give.

  “I understand. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just wondering why there aren’t more pictures of you and Olivia as well.”

  “I guess because it didn't seem fair to have pictures of her and me but not her and her mother.”

  “That makes sense. I got it, but you should know she talks about you both all the time.”

  “Thanks. So, um, how long do these need to go in for? The oven I mean,” he held up the tray and Mason looked at it.

  “I'd say maybe fifteen minutes.”

  “Excellent. Do you want a glass for your beer or do you drink straight out of the bottle?”

  “The bottle is fine, thanks.”

  Cole turned away not really knowing what else to say at that point. So far, they only had Olivia to talk about and he wasn't sure what else they might have in common. He was second-guessing inviting him over here again but he hadn't really tried to make any friends since he'd moved into town. It might be nice to just hang out with one of the guys. Cole walked down the hallway and entered the kitchen, putting the nachos in the oven. Mason followed him, taking in the house. Cole wished he'd had time to pick up after Olivia.

  “Sorry about the mess. Olivia and I were in a hurry this morning and I didn't have a chance to pick up.”

  “Don't be sorry. I don't mind. The only thing I can look forward to tripping over on the floor of my place is dead rodents from my cat, Zemi. Having a child must be nice.”

  “Yeah, but you have all kinds of kids as a teacher.”

  “True, but it would be nice to come home to my own sometime.”

  “So, there’s no one in your life to make that happen for you?” Cole wasn't sure if he was asking because he was just curious, or if he was asking because he was hoping the answer was no and it might justify the attraction he was feeling. The latter was truthful and the former a bit selfish, but he couldn't help it.

  “No. There's no one.” Mason cracked the top off a couple of beers and handed one to Cole. They clinked the necks together and each took a sip, eyeing each other over the tops of the bottles.

  Cole felt like he should say something, change the subject maybe. “So, um, were the books useful?”

  “What?” Mason looked distracted, like he’d been deep in thought and Cole had interrupted the trip to wherever his brain had gone.

  “The books you bought this morning. Were they helpful or interesting?”

  “Oh yeah. I used one of them today.”

  “Used?”

  “Well, what would be the point of buying a practitioner’s guide if I didn’t practice?”

  Cole thought about that for a moment. He hadn’t given it a lot of thought. He just figured Mason was like most people, he bought the books, then they would sit on a shelf collecting dust until he spotted one out of boredom and decided to flip through it, or the great spring cleaning purge came with the “if you haven’t used it in three months, it has to go” rule.

  “Does it bother you?” Mason took another swig of his beer.

  Cole had to think about that, too. Sure it was easy to say, to each their own. But he could honestly say although he’d never met a practicing witch before, he didn’t mind. He was different himself in some ways. “No, but I’m afraid I know very little about it. Do you do, like, spells and stuff?”

  Mason laughed. It was a deep, rich laugh that made his whole body shake, and it took Cole’s breath away.

  “You can see how ignorant I am about the subject.” Cole smiled nervously as Mason continued to chuckle.

  “Yes, and just so you know, I only fly my broom on Tuesdays, when traffic is a nightmare on Main Street, and I boil toads in a cauldron on Fridays, when the local high school isn’t putting on a spaghetti dinner to benefit one team or another.”

  “Toads?”

  “Hey, man, if there’s no spaghetti, a man’s gotta eat, right?” He chuckled again at his own joke.

  Cole relaxed. There was still a small part of him that was nervous. He genuinely didn’t want to offend Mason, but he was curious.

  Mason looked up and seemed to guess he was trying to think of the politically correct way of asking about his practice and he answered for him. “It’s pretty basic. I have what you’d expect, a lot of candles and incense. What people don’t understand about it is that they’re not for the mystique, they’re to help cleanse and purify the air. I believe in energy. Everything leaves an impression, even bad energy, so the candles and sage and all that helps keep the energy around my house pure.”

  “That’s kind of cool.”

  “Well, I get a lot of flak for being a guy and having so many candles that stink pretty, but no one ever seems to think to ask why. You looked like that was the direction your mind was headed, so I figured I’d fill in the blanks.”

  “I think it’s fascinating. At the store, I get so many books about so many different topics I don’t always have time to look through them. Of course, the ones filed under pagan practices, that stand out, are the satanic books and books about the occult. The witchcraft books see a lot of interest from teenage girls and are pretty…”

  “Feminine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there aren’t a lot out there that cater specifically to men, but we do exist. Once a month I go and visit with about five other men who practice in the city. We talk a lot about spells and stuff, but it’s not the kind of spells your teenage girls are likely to be into.”

  “You don’t want the local college football star to fall madly in love with you then?” Cole was taking a chance by interjecting his own joke. He bit his lip and waited for Mason’s reaction. It surprised him when he got a smile but then Mason ducked his head shyly.

  “Nah, not the college star. He’s too young for me.”

  It took Cole a minute to catch on to what he was saying and when he did he didn’t notice the oven timer beeping.

  “The nachos are done.”

  Mason’s voice was soft, and Cole mechanically turned, bent over the oven door, and removed the tray with the mitt. Mason had just dropped a bombshell of a clue about himself and Cole wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. It seemed like they were beating around the bush about taboo subjects, yet when they touched on something, it didn’t upset either of them, it just took them a moment to adjust. Cole found he liked the feeling. It was a natural sort of nervousness, and scored another point for his team because it meant he wasn’t entirely unfounded in thinking there was an attraction to Mason he couldn’t figure out.

  “So, apart from candles and your broom rides on Tuesday traffic days, what do you do?” He figured sticking to a safer topic was best, and if Mason wanted to talk about the other, then he’d be open to it but let him bring it up.

  “There’s a lot of chanting and meditation. I love being in the woods so I’m outside a lot, collecting things to add to my altar.”

  “You have an altar?” Cole used a spatula to scoop some cheesy chips onto plates for them both.

  “Yeah, but that’s also not what you think.”

  “Well, tell me about it, if you don’t mind. I’m pretty open-minded.” He turned and looked into Mason’s eyes, trying to portray he meant that about a lot of things. Mason gave a slight jerk of the head and Cole felt the breath he’d been holding release, and along with it, the tightness in his chest abated.

  “Your teenagers are probably setting up candles, charms, maybe even going so far as to add blood and other organic materials to it. I’m not big on the ritualistic side. I find stuff when I’m out hiking, like rocks and leaves that look cool. Sometimes I find exoskeletons of bugs that are still intact, and that’s about as creepy as I get. It’s more like an altar to pray to my Gods, that shows them I notice the things they’ve sent to this earth. Does that make sense?”

  “Completely. In Christianity there’s similar vices, if you will, like communion, candles that are lit in the Catholic church to p
ray for the deceased. And I don’t think I’ve ever been to a holiday or celebration where there hasn’t been flowers or plants of some kind. From everything you’re describing, you have similar rituals that include just being thankful, and you might show that in a different way, but essentially you’re still praying.”

  “It’s nice that you recognize that. You should come, if you’re interested, to next month’s meeting. The guys would like you.”

  Cole hadn’t been expecting an invitation and it surprised him that Mason was comfortable enough to extend one.

  “Thanks, I’d like that. I haven’t had the time to make many friends since we moved here.”

  “You aren’t doing so bad right now.” Mason smiled, and Cole felt his cheeks flush again. Mason turned toward the door. “Living room in here?”

  He didn’t wait for a response, but went in and sat down on the couch, leaving Cole to trail after him. He picked up his beer and plate of nachos from the counter and smiled. He thought their initial jitters were over and he’d got through the awkward phase just fine. He felt more like himself than he had in a long time, and he had Mason to thank for making him feel so comfortable in his own skin.

  Cole followed Mason into the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an unwritten rule somewhere that you never sit in the host’s favorite seat, and Mason must have taken a stab at guessing Cole liked the far end by the window. His magazines and the remotes were on the end table, and there was a telling coffee ring on the coaster. Cole set his beer down and clicked on the TV. He kept peeking at Mason out of the corner of his eye. Here was the most enigmatic man he’d ever met. His daughter’s first grade teacher, a practicing witch, and possibly gay. It just goes to show you don’t really know someone and it’s not a good idea to judge a book by its cover. That was one of his best sales pitches at the shop. Sure, a cover is supposed to be eye catching, but then you start to dig a little. Read the back cover blurb, then maybe the first sentence. Cole felt like he’d been given the short version of Mason’s blurb, but he was intrigued and wanted to know more.

  Mason beat him to the punch when he asked, “So what motivated you to own a bookstore?”

  Mason took a bite of nachos and looked over at him. He’d been halfway to his lips with his own nacho but put it back down. “I guess I just love stories. I know that’s weird. I rarely get to just sit at the store, crack a book open and read. I’m usually too busy, but one of my favorite places to be as a kid was at the bookstore. Most kids were at the park or the arcade, and I was at the local library or bookstore.”

  “That’s not weird.”

  “Well, it is if you get caught smelling the pages of the books.”

  “OK, that is a little weird. Most kids sniff glue or other stupid stuff. What’s with the book highs?”

  Cole chuckled. “Technology is taking over. There’s always going to be someone that wants an actual physical copy of a book in their hands though. Books smell as intriguing as the stories they contain. It’s like the combination of ink and paper is all wrapped up neatly in a perfect punch to the senses, like the climax of the story.”

  Mason nodded his head. “You ever think about being a writer?”

  “No, I don’t have time to write even if I had the skills. Not with the store and Olivia and well, yeah. Lately I just haven’t had the time.”

  “Understandable.”

  “And what about you? What interested you in teaching?”

  Mason bit into a chip, buying himself more time and Cole wondered if there was a personal reason. “I like kids. I love to teach kids.”

  “That’s a pretty pat answer.” Cole grinned at him.

  “Yes, but I think you can understand my position. There’s nothing saying I can’t be friends with my students outside school. But I also don’t make it a habit of telling people my eccentricities either.”

  “They don’t bother me.” Cole set his nacho plate down on the coffee table and gave Mason his full attention. He wanted him to know he was serious. He couldn’t explain the attraction he felt, but he wanted him to know he had no qualms about anything Mason had divulged to him, or that he was teaching his daughter.

  “I appreciate that. It’s a bit nerve-racking when you aren’t sure what someone will think about how different you are. I get a lot of people who give me funny looks because I’m 6’1” and a man. When people think about first grade teachers it’s Mrs. Sunshine in the sunny flower dress, who smells like chocolate chip cookies and crayons.”

  “It’s interesting how perception and stereotypes often go hand in hand. But I want you to know it was surprising when I first met you, but I have no issue with you being any of the things you have told me.”

  “Thanks. It’s nice there are still open-minded people in the world.”

  Cole took a sip of his beer and checked the score on the game. His team was favorite and playing at their usual standard and it was only the second inning. Cole sat in comfortable silence for a while. At one point he got up and grabbed them each another beer, and they clinked bottles again. He hadn’t been this at ease in a long time and he was enjoying their conversation too. It would spring up during ads and Cole was grateful that for once, it didn’t have anything to do with Olivia or Penny. That might make him selfish, but Mason seemed genuinely interested in who he was as an individual.

  “No way!” Cole sat up when Mason told him he lived about a mile through the woods behind him.

  “Yeah, there’s a path that cuts through. Your end is pretty overgrown, but because I spend a lot of time in the clearing out there casting my mojo over people,” he winked. “My end is pretty easy to spot.

  Maybe it was the beer buzz, and Cole wasn’t entirely sure he’d even murmured it until Mason’s eyes widened, lighting up from the soft glow of the TV screen. “I don’t mind if you’ve cast your mojo over me.” He quickly hid behind his beer bottle and was contemplating making a run for the kitchen feigning a need for more nachos, but Mason leaned toward him.

  “You wouldn’t?”

  Cole gulped his beer which was an amateur move. It burned, and he coughed. He wasn’t usually a drinker. “What?” Something Cole couldn’t put a name to flashed in Mason’s eyes, but he was trying to switch gears, fast, in case he’d just run himself into an impending train wreck. It was one thing to invite a guy over for nachos and beer, it was another to hit on him when the premise had been to build a friendship. “Hey, I’m starving, is there anywhere in town that delivers pizza?” He rose from the couch and teetered a little. His head was swimming from the buzz.

  Mason stood up quickly and cupped his elbow. “Hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you sit back down for a bit?”

  Cole shook his head. His elbow was on fire where Mason was touching it. His skin tingled and he didn’t know why. Was this bound to happen with anyone he was attracted to after Penny? Or was it because of the beer? Or was it just the effect Mason had on him? Cole still wanted to run into the kitchen and put some distance between himself and Mason so he could think. The problem was, all he ever did was think, analyze and over analyze and it got him nowhere. But acting on impulse? That was a whole other ball game. He’d never openly admitted to a man he was attracted to him, even the ones he and Penny had entertained together.

  Cole’s fingers began to shake and he had to set his beer bottle down. Mason tugged his elbow and he slowly sat back down on the couch. Instead of returning to his seat on the far end though, Mason sat right next to Cole, and Cole could feel his heart race.

  “There hasn’t been anyone since, has there?”

  Mason didn’t need to elaborate any further. Cole knew exactly what he meant. He shook his head, not daring to look at Mason. Every time he did, he became transfixed. Mason didn’t need to be a witch casting a spell, he was an enchantment himself. He was one of Cole’s book covers grabbing his attention so he was distracted and spellbound.

  Cole was trying to think of something to say. Anything. Maybe even apologize for o
verstepping his bounds, but then he felt Mason’s fingers under his chin, and his whole body tensed as he tipped his chin up so their eyes met. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Mason leaned in and brushed his lips across his own. It was a deer-in-the-headlights moment. He sat, frozen, unable to react and unable to kiss Mason back the way he wanted to, because he was in shock. Then he felt the tip of Mason’s tongue on his lips and he groaned. Then he melted.

  4

  Mason Savage

  Mason felt the exact moment Cole’s resolve crumbled. The man became a puddle of limbs, and he swayed forward so Mason had to wrap his arms around him. It was a bit awkward, but so right. He’d turned his own body towards Cole and enfolded him in his arms as he slanted his mouth across Cole’s. He felt Cole shudder under him, and heat raced through him knowing he was the first person Cole had been intimate with in a very long time.

  Mason probed at Cole’s lips with his tongue, urging him to let him in. When he did, he tasted like beer, nachos, and need. Mason could just sense it, but he didn’t want to scare him off. He raised one arm that had been wrapped around Cole’s waist and let his fingers trail up the back of his neck as he continued kissing him. He broke off the kiss to let his tongue and lips dance along Cole’s jawline. Cole’s moans were like music, a slow and steady rhythm that would have only been made better if they were outside, naked under the stars, not trapped in the confines of the tiny living room with layers of restrictive clothing between them. Cole had been surprisingly open to all the things he’d divulged; he wasn’t about to push his luck by asking him to go outside to continue this.

  Mason didn’t push any further than nuzzling at Cole’s neck. His fingers ached to reach under his t-shirt, and the Gods only knew he was dying to free himself from his jeans. The tightness below his waist was aggravating and no matter how he shifted his weight, there was no reprieve. Mason broke off the kiss, figuring it was time to give Cole a chance to process and react, as much as he was dying to continue kissing him for the rest of the night. He eased himself back, but Cole didn’t seem ready to sit back away from him, and Mason found he didn’t mind holding him for comfort. Cole’s head slumped so his forehead and face were pressed into Mason’s neck, and Mason did the only thing he could think of, he gently swayed back and forth, rocking him, while Cole regained control of his breathing. One glance was all it took for Mason to know Cole was having the same issue below the belt, but there was no way he was pushing that envelope. Too far, too soon. He needed to be the level head for them both right now.

 

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