Teacher's Pet - A Standalone Novel (A Teacher Student Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Most of the time, she was gone when I'd get up. She woke up so early, all the time. I knew she had to for work, but I didn't get it. I think I’d rather find a different job. That morning, I woke up while she was shuffling around the room getting dressed.

  I watched her for a little while. She slept in my t-shirts, and her nipples poked through them because she didn’t wear a bra to sleep. They looked a hell of a lot better on her than they did on me. She was pulling it over her head to put her bra on.

  That tight little body was doing great things for my recovery. Back when I was touring with Remus, I had had no problem pulling chicks. Groupies practically begged us to let them give it up.

  When I was using hardcore, chasing tail had pretty much gone out the window. Being a junkie was like a full-time job. You couldn’t do anything when you were using because when you weren’t using, you were just thinking about and planning for the next time that you were going to use.

  Abby wasn’t like that, though. It wasn’t cheap and anonymous with her. It was fantastic. She was as sexy as she was beautiful, sweet, and caring. Even if I wasn’t trying to distract myself from using, I’d still absolutely go after her.

  Her pussy wasn’t like the antidote to my addiction. I was still going a little crazy, and the withdrawal was doing ugly and painful things to my body, but it would probably be a lot worse if she wasn’t supporting me.

  I wished there was something I could give her to say thanks. Something told me she wasn’t looking for the shit I’d usually been able to impress girls with in the past. She was so nice, she’d probably decline anything I tried to give her, saying just helping me was enough of a reward.

  We needed to keep her somewhere safe under glass because that kind of honest sweetness had to be something that was running out in the world. She was rare. When would I ever meet someone like her again?

  I watched her pull a pair of shorts over her ass. She hadn’t put her uniform on. She glanced over at me and jumped a little, realizing I was awake.

  “I was trying not to wake you,” she said.

  “I thought you hated how late I sleep in,” I said.

  “Go back to sleep. I just need to go clock in at work,” she said.

  “Are you coming back?” I asked.

  “Yes. Wait for me here. I’ll come back,” she said.

  “Your boss said I could have you as long as I wanted.”

  “This is why I wanted to leave while you were still asleep,” she said walking over to the bed. She kissed me on the forehead and ran her fingers through my hair. “I’ll be right back.” I watched her leave the bedroom and heard her close the door behind her.

  Oh, right. She was still working. She still had a job. I was the one on vacation. She wasn’t. That isn’t very fair, I thought. Even if nobody was forcing her to be here with me, she was still working. She just did shit for me all day, what the hell had I done for her?

  I wanted to give her something. What did she like? I got out of bed and looked for my phone. I went to the living room, looking for the pamphlets Abby had dropped off what felt like so long ago. There had to be something in there that we hadn’t done together. Not exploring, not a beach or a historical sight, something else.

  I wanted to go out with her. A date.

  I wanted to spoil her. She didn’t have to worry about picking a place and making sure I liked it. She could let that be my problem for once.

  I was just getting off the phone with the restaurant when she came back into the room. I was out on the deck. She came into the bedroom looking for me with a tray in her hands.

  “I brought food,” she said sweetly.

  “Bring it out here,” I called. She walked over, and I took the tray from her, putting it down on a small table out on the deck. I pulled up two deck chairs for us. It was a really nice day, warm and sunny without a cloud in the sky. I had seen dolphins in the ocean as I had talked on the phone.

  She pulled the cloches off the plates. She’d brought eggs, bacon, toast, pastries…a little of everything.

  “I thought I’d find you asleep again,” she said, nibbling at a croissant.

  “I’m trying something new,” I said. “I’m not really as tired anymore. It’s great.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Mm-hmm, now you can get off my back for sleeping so much.”

  “That’s only a bad thing when we have somewhere to go,” she laughed.

  “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

  “Nope,” she said. “I think we’re running out. Did you want to go somewhere specific?”

  “Yes. I want to take you out,” I said.

  “Where?”

  “Dinner. I made us a reservation.”

  “You don’t need to make reservations here; you’re a guest.”

  “Not at the resort. It’s a surprise,” I said, smirking.

  “That’s my line,” she said, smiling. “I thought I was the tour guide here.”

  “You’re off duty today. We can leave around ten.”

  “That’s a little late for dinner,” she remarked.

  “Not tonight. In a couple hours. I love those shorts on you, but you can’t wear them where we’re going,” I said.

  “Where is it? Now you have to tell me. Is it somewhere fancy?” she asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders, eating my breakfast. The tables were turned now. She used to drive me crazy not telling me where we were going when she’d take me out. She waited for me to get ready, and I called a car to take us into the city.

  This wasn’t LA. We weren’t exactly spoiled for choice when it came to places to shop, but that was sort of a good thing. I didn’t know how Abby would be in a boutique, but just in case she was one of those girls who didn’t know when to stop when you gave her a credit card, it was good there were just a few places we could go.

  But really, I owed her so much more than a dress and some fucking shoes. I wouldn’t stop her if she really wanted to cut loose. She deserved it. She had put up with my ass without a single complaint for weeks now. She definitely deserved it.

  “What are we doing here?” she asked, when we got to the store.

  “The place we’re going tonight has a dress code,” I said, holding the door open for her. “I want you to get something.”

  “I can’t afford this place, Nate.”

  “It’s on me. Pick whatever you want,” I said. She ran her hand down a dress hanging on a rack to her right, sighing.

  “You don’t need to do all this. Taking me out somewhere is already too much,” she said.

  “I want to, Abby. Just let me do this for you. I want to.”

  She bit her lip, thinking. “Just one. The cheapest they have.”

  “A whole outfit. Shoes and accessories, too. Budget is unlimited.”

  “Nate,” she whined.

  “Okay, two outfits,” I said, taunting her. She made a cute frustrated face.

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “You’re throwing my generosity back in my face. That hurts, Abby,” I said, dramatically putting my hand over my chest.

  “It’s too much.”

  “I’ll decide when it’s too much,” I insisted. I picked a dress off the rack nearest to us. It was pink. It would look good with her tan. “I like this; try it on,” I said, holding it out to her. She took it and checked the price. I saw her eyes widen.

  “Is everything all right?” a cheerful shop assistant asked, coming over to us.

  “Can we get that in her size please?” I asked. “We’re celebrating tonight, and I want her to wear something special.”

  “That actually looks like it might fit,” she said, taking the dress from Abby. I smiled smugly. “Go to the dressing room, and I’ll pull a few more for you. Is there a certain style you’re looking for?”

  “Nothing too over the top,” Abby said.

  “I want every guy in the room to lose their minds when they look at her,” I said. The shop assistant laughed and sai
d she’d see what she could find. Abby was frowning up at me.

  “I can’t take all this from you, Nate,” she said. I cupped her face and kissed her softly.

  “You’re not taking anything. I’m giving it to you. If I had my way, I’d buy up this entire store for you. You gave me my life back, Abby. I owe you the world for that. Let me buy you a fucking dress. Please. It’ll make me feel like I deserved any single minute that you’ve spent with me.”

  She chewed on her lip before finally conceding. I kissed her forehead and let her go to the changing room.

  She let me pick for her. She was getting really flustered and overwhelmed with all the different choices; it was cute. The one I picked eventually was short, with no sleeves, and was white with these big, bright, pink flowers over it. Her legs looked amazing in it — of course, she was a knockout in everything I had ever seen her wear — but it reminded me of her personality: bright and beautiful.

  I convinced her to get ready in my suite with me, suddenly getting a little nervous. It started to feel like a real date, like I really wanted to impress her. This was more than just a thank you. I wanted her to know what she’d done for me and this was the only way I knew how.

  The restaurant was at an old, restored plantation house that had been turned into this countryside lodge. Abby had been trying to guess where we were going the entire short trip from the hotel. She never did.

  It wasn’t really her scene, I realized. She worked at a five-star resort, but she was so detached from the world that the people who stayed at places like that belonged to. From my world, I guess.

  It was nice, I guess. I knew now as an adult that not everybody had gotten to live the way that I had, and not everybody’s father was Nathaniel Stone II, but this sort of scene was my everyday reality. I was lucky I had managed to stay this way so long, but like anything you experience long enough, it became sort of regular. Boring almost.

  Not for Abby, though. If she liked it, then it was good. That was all I wanted.

  “I can’t believe you got a reservation here; it’s so expensive,” she said, taking my arm as we went up the stairs to enter the building.

  “Have you been before?”

  “Never. I’ve heard about it a lot, though. It’s incredible,” she said, looking around the lobby at the furnishings and decorations.

  Yeah. It was pretty nice. I liked how much she seemed to like it. Looked like she was one of those girls who I could impress with shiny things, after all. It wasn’t gross and gold-diggerish with her, though. She seemed genuinely impressed that I had brought her here. Like if I had gotten her a ring or something, she’d thank me and say it was beautiful. She wouldn’t take it to a jeweler to figure out the karat value and tell her friends, that sort of thing.

  I liked it. She was so unspoiled. She’d managed to get to her twenties somehow without becoming completely jaded and cynical. Maybe by the time I was heading back to LA, some of that will have rubbed off on me.

  A maître d’ greeted us at the door of the restaurant and led us inside. I heard Abby’s breath catch as we stepped into the room. I smiled. It was perfect.

  I had asked for the entire restaurant. I had had to talk to three different people before they finally agreed to do it. I had asked for low, scattered light and one table. The light coming from the ceiling fixtures was warm and gentle, and around the room were standing lanterns, so it was like the sort of light you got a sunset, but inside.

  “Oh my God,” she said quietly.

  “Do you like it?” I asked her. She looked at me, and she had tears in her eyes.

  “You did this?” she asked. I nodded.

  “I wanted to say thank you. It’s not enough. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me, but it’s something. I wanted to take care of you for once.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said.

  “Say you’re hungry so we can eat,” I said. She laughed and let me lead her to the table. I pulled her chair out for her and sat across the table. The waiter came in quickly to take our orders. I ended up ordering for Abby, getting us the same thing because she had tried to get herself the cheapest thing on the menu. Wasn’t happening tonight.

  “When did you plan all this?” Abby asked.

  “When you had left this the morning. They were closed, but they let me talk to the manager.”

  “Why did you book the whole space?”

  “Because I wanted to,” I said nonchalantly.

  “One table would have been more than sufficient,” she teased.

  “Next time we’ll go to the McDonald’s drive through, how about that?” I asked. She smiled and looked down at her place setting.

  “I’m sorry. I love it. I’ve just never done anything this grand before.”

  “I’m kicking myself for not doing this with you earlier,” I said.

  “You do this sort of thing often?” she asked.

  “Only with people I care about.”

  “Must be nice to live like this sometimes,” she said lightly.

  “It’s not everything.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “No?”

  “You know how they say money can’t buy you happiness?” I asked. She nodded. “It’s not quite true. It can give you stability, luxuries, and pay for experiences that could give you a lot of joy. It can even get you a wife and buy you friends, but if it does, then they’ll be gone as soon as the money is.

  “It can be really isolating and turn you into a different person. My father almost doubled his net worth when I was a kid, but the last time he was truly happy was when my mother was still alive.”

  “Can I ask when she died?”

  “A long time ago. I was just a kid. He stopped getting stuff when she died. He’d get stuff for me, but never really for himself. It was like he only cared about owning and having things when she had been there to share them with him,” I said. My phone, which I had placed on the table, lit up, ringing. I ignored the call.

  “It must have been hard growing up without her.”

  “Yeah. It didn’t matter that my dad paid for me to go to private schools and expensive vacations; I was still the kid without a mom.” My phone rang again. I ignored it.

  “Are you and he close?” she asked. My phone rang again. I turned the sound off and put it in my pocket.

  “We are. He’s great,” I said, distractedly.

  "You should take the call," she said.

  "No, not during dinner."

  "If they're calling you like that, it must be important."

  "No. It's not a big deal. I'm turning it off."

  "Really," she said. "Take it. I can wait." I sighed, getting up.

  "I'll be right back," I told her. I walked outside and looked at my phone. Oh, Kirsten, you always had the worst timing, I thought, calling her back. She picked up before the first ring.

  "Nate?"

  "Kirsten, this better be because someone died," I snapped.

  "Nate, why weren't you picking up?"

  "Because I'm busy. Because I don't want to talk to you. What do you want? Hurry up, I have somewhere to be."

  "Somewhere to be? I know you're not working, Nate; where do you have to be? The beach? The bar? Do they have nice shooting galleries in Hawai’i?"

  "The next time you want to call me, don't."

  "I don't know if it’s smart to discourage the only woman who'll still talk to you."

  "Who told you you’re the only one?" I challenged. She was silent for a beat.

  "What?" she demanded.

  "Whatever you called me to say, hurry up and say it. My date's waiting."

  "Your what?" she scoffed. "You're on a date? Right now?"

  "Tick tock, Kirsten."

  "Wow. I knew I had to get away from you when you started drinking, but I really dodged a bullet."

  "What do you mean?" I asked frowning.

  "I mean, you're coming back to Los Angeles. Is the girl a tourist?" she asked. I was quiet. "Oh, of course she isn't
because you would only go for someone you know you have no chance of running into again once you leave."

  "This is none of your business, Kirsten."

  "It isn't. I guess I just wish I was surprised to hear it. You, using a girl during your vacation knowing that you get to come back here and forget about her in a couple months. That's classic, Nate."

  "Are you done?" I asked through gritted teeth.

  "So sorry for interrupting you during your date," she said sarcastically. "It wouldn't be that bad if she was in on it, too, but something tells me that she isn't." I hung up, not wanting to hear anything else from her.

  Fucking Kirsten. What had I ever seen in her? We weren't even friends. She had been my longest relationship, and I knew that the reason it fell apart was because of me. She was a bitch, but she probably knew me better than a lot of people did.

  But she wasn't here, and she didn't know Abby. There was no way she knew anything about this. What was happening between the two of us?

  What even was it?

  We were hanging out. She was helping me detox. We were spending nights together, and we'd had sex. I didn't know what kind of label I was allowed to put on that. Nothing, I guess, but did Abby think it was nothing, too?

  I liked her. She was great. Happier and sweeter than most people I'd met in my entire life, but she lived here. I was leaving in a couple months, and she was going to stay here. I wasn't using her. I wasn't making her think that this was something it wasn't — something that could last a long time — because it wasn't. She knew that. She had to know that.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and walked back inside. Abby smiled at me from the table. Oh God. She didn't know that.

  "Everything all right?" she asked.

  "Yeah. It was just someone from LA. I've been silent lately; they wanted to make sure I was okay," I said vaguely. It felt horrible lying to Abby, but I had to do it. I wasn't going to tell her that my ex-wife thought I was using her, or that, even worse, I thought I was using her, too.