by Nicole Dykes
Her hair is down today, wavy and unruly as I push the hair behind her ear and let my hand rest on the side of her head, the other on her hip. “I think all parents worry about that.”
“Not all kids have lost a parent.”
I swallow hard, thinking about Colt and how he never even got the chance to meet his son. “Baz isn’t Colt.”
She nods her head slowly, but she didn’t know Colt well. All she hears all the time is how much Sebastian looks like his father. But truth be told, he’s wilder. “I know.” Her voice is still low even though we’re the only people around. Her full lips still hold me in an intoxicated trance as she pulls the bottom one with her teeth. “I was afraid when I got your voicemail. Even though I was sure he was fine, the fear was real.”
“It’s normal.”
She nods as she lowers her eyes to the ground. “I’m glad he has you, Asher. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll never take you away from him again.”
The pain from thinking about that time in my life is too great, and I step away, moving back toward my desk. “I won’t let that happen again.”
She moves forward, walking near me. “It won’t. You don’t need to worry.”
“You’re damn right.” She stands inches from me, and I hate how I notice her breasts rising and falling in the camisole top she’s wearing. I lean back on my desk, and she moves forward, her thighs touching my knees as she laces her fingers through my hair.
I think it’s to comfort me, but her touch only ignites me, sending me back to my earlier thoughts before Baz got hurt.
“I know it hurt you.”
I lock eyes with her, feeling too vulnerable, but she’s blocking me at the moment. Not that I can’t move her, but I don’t want to. “I’m actually happy, Viv. I didn’t think that was possible. I don’t want to lose him again. And hell . . . I even like being near my family.”
She drags her hand from my hair down over my cheek. “I won’t let that happen.”
Won’t she though? If we start fucking and she falls for me again? I haven’t changed my mind. I can’t be in a relationship. “What makes you so damn sure?”
Her thumb sweeps over my bottom lip, and I groan, wanting to touch her, but I leave my hands at my side, resting on the desk.
She watches me and takes another deep breath, not moving her thumb from my lips. “Because it’s my biggest regret.”
I want to believe her.
“You aren’t doing either of us any favors by lying.”
“I’m not lying.” Her chest presses against me, and our mouths are insanely close to mine as her hands rest on top of mine. “I know you aren’t in love with me, but I know you feel this crazy magnetic attraction.”
“I fucking hate it.”
“Do you?”
I push her body back as I stand up. She looks hurt until I grab her ass, lifting her and placing her on my desk instead, my body creeping over hers as I lean down to look into her eyes. “Yes.”
Her hand wraps around the back of my neck, and her legs part allowing me to settle between them. “But you still want this.”
It’s not a question. My lips slide over hers as my tongue darts out, dragging over them. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She looks concerned now, laying under me. She glances toward the door. “Oh my God, Asher.” One of her hands rests on my chest as she looks back to me. “My body is on fire. Craving your touch.” I swallow as I look into her eyes. “Anyone could walk in.”
I want to touch her so fucking bad as my head rests against hers. “They’re in music for at least another ten minutes.”
She captures my bottom lip with her teeth and nips softly but doesn’t kiss me. “I’m here, begging you to touch me when my kid is—”
I cut her off quickly, seeing the guilt in her eyes. “Your kid is fine.”
She looks down between our bodies to where we’re still clothed but pressed against each other. “This could get you fired.”
She’s right, and still, I don’t want to move. My lips press against hers as I pull her into a desperate, unapologetic kiss. Her hand moves from my chest to grip my hair tightly between her fingers. She moans softly as I press my hard cock between her legs, knowing she’s already wet for me.
She always is.
“Asher . . .” she gasps, her hand creeping between our bodies as she guides me back.
I’m panting as I look down at her, having lost all control. “What?”
“We can’t do this here.”
She pushes me back further, and I move away from her, pissed-off and frustrated. “But we can do it in the gym at Lola’s?”
“That’s our home right now. This is your place of work.”
She drops her feet to the floor and stands up from my desk, smoothing down her skirt, but I stand close to her. “I was just trying to help your teacher fetish.”
A small smile plays on her pretty lips. “I think you only fanned the flames,” she leans into my ear, “Mr. Sterling.”
Mother. Fucker.
All I want is to throw her little ass back on the desk and punish the fuck out of her for making my dick so fucking hard, but I see Mrs. Bailey walk through the door, and suddenly I'm grateful for Viv stopping what we started.
I wonder if grabbing a book and putting it in front of my crotch is too obvious when I carefully sit down behind my desk instead to hide the predicament Viv left me in. I wave to the principal. “Mrs. Bailey, what brings you by?”
I give her my best grin, and she just shakes her head at me, the older woman not immune to my charm but not easily forgiving of my shit either. “Is this Sebastian’s mother?” She nods toward Viv.
Viv smoothes her hair with her hand, clearly freaked out by almost being caught, but she quickly recovers and reaches her hand out for her. “Yes, hi. I’m Sebastian’s mother. I am so sorry about what happened.”
Mrs. Bailey shakes her head affectionately. “These things happen, but we have to abide by the rules.”
“Absolutely. It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you for understanding and coming to pick him up.”
Mrs. Bailey’s eyes slide over to me as she scopes me out, suspicious, but she doesn’t call me on it. “Alright. We’ll see him tomorrow.”
Viv nods and supplies her brightest smile. “Great. Thank you.”
Mrs. Bailey leaves, and I stand up, still semi-hard, the adrenaline not worn off, but it’s clear Viv’s fire has been doused. “I’m going to get Baz and take him home.”
I nod. “See you guys later.”
And I let her leave because there’s nothing left to say.
Clearly, I'm not doing the best at steering clear of her.
Today was emotional to say the least. I feel like I'm spiraling out of control yet again, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen.
I’m still shocked Baz got into a fight at school and, instead of processing that, I acted out and nearly had sex with Asher in his classroom.
His kindergarten classroom.
What on earth is the matter with me?
Baz wouldn’t tell me what happened all day. Nor would he tell Hayden, Lola, Linc, Penelope, or Ash at dinner. He didn’t want to talk about it.
So, as I tuck him in tonight, I try one last time. Pulling the covers up to his chin, I sweep my hand over his hair and look at his sweet face. “Baz, what happened today, sweetie? Why did you push that other kid?”
He puffs out his bottom lip and huffs, “He said I don’t have a daddy.”
“He what?” I stare at him shocked, my heart sinking.
He looks so upset, and I'm dying inside. “He said teachers were talking about my daddy being dead.” A tear slides down his cheek as he becomes angry again. “And he kept singing this song: ‘Baz’s daddy’s dead’ over and over.”
I feel anger spread through my body, but I try to keep calm. Who knew kids their age could be so cruel? They’re practically babies. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” I brush thr
ough his hair affectionately with my fingers. “That was mean and certainly not something to tease you about.”
“He’s a jerk.”
I agree. “We still can’t put our hands on anyone, okay?”
He nods his head. “Okay, Mommy.”
I press a kiss to his temple. “You are very, very loved. And if your father were here today, he would love you with all of us.”
He rolls to his side, taking his superhero comforter with him. “Night, Mommy.”
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
I kiss the back of his head and quietly leave the room, but bump into Asher as I’m closing the door.
“Is he asleep?”
I look up at him, feeling the intensity from the day, of what that kid said to him and all the guilt that goes with it. My eyes fill up with tears as I shake my head and barely croak out the words. “Almost.”
“Viv, what’s wrong?” His hand moves to my shoulder, and I see the caring, disturbed look in his eyes as I cover my face with my hands, wanting to hide.
“No matter what I do, I'm constantly failing him.”
“That’s insane.” He keeps his voice low and pulls me against his body, and I don’t fight it. I let his strong arms envelope me and breathe him in. I feel him guiding me with him as we walk to the next room, which is his, and he pushes the door open.
We walk through the door, and he urges me to sit on his bed. I do, and he sits next to me.
“What’s up, Viv? Why do you think you’re a failure?”
I drop my hands to my sides but don’t look at him. “I got him to tell me what happened.”
“And?”
My throat feels pained as I swallow, knowing this won’t be an easy subject for him. “That kid was teasing him about his father being . . .” The word “dead” feels too harsh when I'm talking to his brother.
Doesn’t matter. He filled in the blank. “What the fuck?”
“I guess the kid heard the teachers,” I glare at him, still annoyed about his flirtation with Baz’s teacher, “probably Ms. Bowen talking about it.”
“Jesus Christ.” He stands up, looking like he wants to punch someone, but he can’t punch a five-year-old. “What the fuck? How is that funny?”
“It’s not.” I fold my arms and try to settle down. “Kids are jerks.”
“No shit.” He sits next to me on the bed again. “That little shit is lucky he’s not in my class.”
That makes me laugh, thinking about how he would certainly punish the kid. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is even worse for you than me.”
“Why does that make you feel like a failure?”
I shrug my shoulders, not sure what Asher and I are at the moment, but still enjoying letting him be someone I can talk to. “He doesn’t have a father.”
“You didn’t kill him.” His tone is ominous.
“Still . . . I’m not ready for all of the conversations and maybe even the issues that arise with him not growing up with a father.”
“He has you, and he has me. He’ll be fine.”
I want to believe that. “I just don’t know if I’ll be enough. There are so many things that he’ll want his father for.”
I see him swallow and think I need to shut the hell up. He lost his brother. “I’ll be there for him, Viv. You know I will.”
I nod my head sadly. “I know, Asher. I just . . . I worry about him. Nonstop.”
I turn my head to look in his eyes, those beautiful, soulful eyes as he nods slowly, his lips taunting me with how good they felt this afternoon.
He brushes the hair out of my face, and I want so desperately to finish what we started today. “I’m not going to let him feel like he’s missing anything. If he wants to know anything about his dad, I'll be there. If he wants advice about girls,” he smirks, and I roll my eyes, “I’ll definitely be there.” He rests his hand over my cheek. “Shaving, erections, how to deal with the pissed-off father of a chick he likes . . . I’m there.”
I smile, knowing he will be. “Thank you. I’m dreading the sex talk already.”
He laughs. “You have time.”
He drops his head, and I see the darkness swirling beneath his surface. “Asher, what are you thinking?”
His lips turn upward deviously. “About whether I’d go to jail for tripping that little fucker when he runs out to recess tomorrow.”
I shake my head at him, slapping his arm, but unable to hide the laugh. “Don’t you dare.”
He laughs, and it’s genuine, surprisingly light, and so damn beautiful. His lips move closer to mine, and I take a sharp intake of air into my lungs from the close contact.
“I know I don’t have a desk in here, . . . but I’ll always be Mr. Sterling.”
Jesus. I think that one sentence just made me fucking wet. HIs voice is so deep and husky paired with the hunger in his eyes. I'm a goner. His lips press hesitantly to mine, and I kiss him softly. The sweet kiss turns heated, our lips and tongues dueling ferociously. My body is on fire for him, wanting to feel him everywhere.
But as I kiss him, I think about how I may not have changed as much as I thought. Hearing him talk about how he’ll always be there for Baz, my heart both happy and aching at the same time.
Because he’ll always be Baz’s uncle, and I know that. But for me? He said it himself, he struggles to even like me.
What am I doing? I see the good in him he doesn’t see. I know he would die for Baz without hesitation. He does everything he can to make Sebastian happy and safe. He’s amazing.
“Asher . . .”
“Viv,” he moans against my lips, but I slowly push him back, using my hand on his solid chest, drawing an uncertain look from him.
“I can’t do this.”
He sits back, studying me, looking so confused. “Baz is fine, Viv. This is the first of many fights.”
“No. I know he is.” I can’t fight the sinking feeling inside as I look away, my voice quiet as the nerves fight my words. “But I'm not.”
He looks defeated as he hangs his head. “I know.”
I climb off his bed, numbly making it to the door. I’m at war with myself, wanting so badly to feel his touch, but knowing that he was, yet again, right.
When it comes to Asher, I can’t seem to leave my heart out of it.
The next morning, I walk Baz to his classroom like I do every morning, but something just isn't sitting right with me after last night.
I hate how much responsibility she takes on her shoulders. She isn’t in this alone, but no matter how much I try to convince her of that, she bears the burden. Always.
Baz is one of the lucky ones, and the kid knows it. He knows he’s loved. I haven’t been teaching long, and I only have fifteen kids in my class, but it’s already clear there are kids who are getting their needs met, and then there are the ones who aren’t.
And it pisses me off.
Viv didn’t plan to get pregnant with Baz, but she stepped the fuck up and is an incredible mother.
She may have faults, but the way she loves that kid isn’t one of them.
Ms. Bowen stands instantly to attention when I walk Baz through the door, her smile so bright, it’s blinding. “Well, good morning.” She looks down at Baz. “Are we going to have a much better day today?”
Baz nods once, but he’s not in the greatest mood today, and now that I know what happened with him and the other kid, neither am I.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I ask Ms. Bowen, who looks all too happy to have my attention.
She won’t feel that way in a minute.
She nods her head exuberantly and instructs Baz to go practice writing his name at his desk. She wets her lips with her tongue and tucks her hair behind her ear, looking up at me with curious, hopeful eyes. “What can I do for you today, Mr. Sterling?”
“You can start by keeping your fucking mouth shut when it comes to my nephew.”
Her jaw drops as her gaze widens in shock. “W-what?”
�
��You heard me. That kid yesterday heard you all talking about Baz’s father being dead, and for whatever reason, decided to tease him about it.”
She clutches her collar. “I swear, I didn’t think anyone was listening. We most certainly weren’t making fun of him for not having a father. We feel awful—”
I cut her off, but I don’t move any closer to her. I don’t want to lose my job, but I want it to be clear that Colt is off-limits. “Don’t. Don’t feel awful. Just don’t talk about it at all.”
She glances over at Baz, who is happily practicing writing his name and not paying attention to us. “I’m sorry.” She places her hand on my bicep, but the touch feels all wrong. “I’m sure losing your brother was extremely difficult.”
And now she’s back to her little game of seduction, looking at me like a wounded bird. I brush away from her hand. “Don’t talk about it anymore. He has enough to deal with, he doesn’t need some little shithead taunting him because his dad died.” I keep my voice a low growl, but it’s enough to have an impact.
“I won’t. I’m very sorry.”
I nod and then move over to Baz, leaning down. “Have a good day, buddy. I’ll see you at recess, and if anyone says anything about your dad,” I look up at Ms. Bowen, who looks slightly frightened, and then back to Baz with a serious gaze, “you come get me.”
I wanted to tell him to go ahead and punch the little fucker, but I had to stop myself to think about what Colt would want. He would never suggest physical violence, although he was no pussy. Baz nods his head sadly, and I ruffle his hair before going back to my classroom, not bothering with any pleasantries with Ms. Bowen.
When Viv told me what happened, I nearly snapped. How someone’s parent being dead is a subject for taunting, I'll never understand. But I could see the despair in Vivienne’s eyes because she knows it’s only the beginning. And she’s right. All of Baz’s life, he’s going to have to explain that his father died before he ever got to know him.
And it’s not fair.
None of it is fair.
Last night, our conversation pissed me off and then led to the inevitable empty feeling I always feel when I think about Colt. How he’s not fucking here to help raise his kid. He would have stepped up. No doubt. More than likely, he would have tried his best to get Viv to marry him and make them all a family.