Avoiding Temptation: Forbidden Series #6

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “To new starts, new jobs, and...friendships.” His eyes twinkle as he says the final word. “I’m so glad you reached out when you did. I think this is where you’re meant to be.”

  “Eddie, I—” I’m just about to explain to him that there’s not going to be anything between us when someone approaches and holds their hand out for him to shake.

  The two men start talking like they’re old friends—it’s not lost on me that at no point does Eddie bother to introduce me. Clearly, I’m not that important.

  Ignoring them, I take a sip of champagne and try not to turn my nose up too much. I really shouldn’t complain; it’s not like I can afford to buy my own drinks in a place like this. I dread to think how much this bottle cost. It seems that Eddie could take himself out of my old stuck-up and pretentious life, but he couldn’t remove his inner snob.

  Rolling my eyes at my thoughts, I look down over the mass of bodies below. They’ve all got smiles on their faces as they dance and laugh with friends, and my muscles ache to know how that feels. Eddie is the closest thing I’ve had to a proper friend since I was a child. The thought makes my stomach drop. I’d kill to have a girlfriend to share everything with, to go shopping with and share my dreams and fears. I had that when I was a kid, but Suzi ended up moving to the States with her parents not long after we finished school, and the distance between us put pay to our friendship.

  I let out a sigh as I once again think about what a lonely life I’ve lived up until this point. The knowledge that I’ve done something about it at last has a little hope starting to filter into my depressing thoughts.

  I’m not all that different to the adults I’ve started teaching. For whatever reason, they’ve all decided that now’s the time to better themselves. I might not need qualifications like them, but I am in need of other things. I just hope that I’m able to find what’s missing in my life in my new home, and I don’t end up going back to where I came from with my tail between my legs, just like I’m sure they’re all expecting me to do.

  Someone's exuberant dancing below catches my eye. I have to do a double-take when a familiar figure comes into focus.

  It’s the guy who sat at the back of my room yesterday evening. He’s dressed similarly, only his white shirt is grey tonight, his braces firmly in place over the top, and his thick-rimmed glasses sit on his face. That’s where the similarities end, because where he was a little unsure of himself last night, right now he’s full of confidence as he dances with a group of friends.

  I can’t pull my eyes away as he pulls a petite redhead into his body and wraps his tattooed arms around her waist. Their hips move together in time with the music. They’re so in sync they could be making love.

  Jealousy hits me like a truck. It’s not because I want to be the redhead—I don’t think—but because I want that connection with someone. I want my body to connect with someone else's so easily that I don’t even need to think about it.

  I find myself downing the glass in my hand, needing something to dampen the emotion bubbling up my throat. I continue watching and, before long, he spins the redhead away from him and pulls the equally tattooed man standing to the side of him to dance.

  Oh…

  He moves as effortlessly with him as he did with the girl, and it only sparks even more questions about my elusive nerdy bad boy student.

  The other guy soon gets fed up and, with a laugh, pushes Joe away and pulls a girl into his body before shoving his tongue down her throat. When I eventually drag my voyeuristic eyes away from the couple, I find Joe sandwiched between another guy and a girl. The girl’s at his front, Joe’s hands roaming over her body as her head rolls back in pleasure, but what really holds my attention is that his lips are attached to the guy’s. They kiss like they’ll die without it, and I can’t pull my eyes away.

  Something inside me erupts, lust descending to my core like I’ve never felt before. I’ve no idea if it’s him, him and the guy, or just the three of them together, but fuck, it’s hot.

  “Jesus, don’t they have any morals? It’s embarrassing,” Eddie tuts, following my stare.

  “They’re just letting their hair down and enjoying themselves.”

  “They might as well just fuck each other while everyone watches.” I glance up at him through narrowed eyes before finding Joe again. “What? Don’t tell me that you’d rather be down in the middle of that than up here with me?” He hands me a refilled glass as if I should be impressed by the expensive golden liquid I’m supposed to be enjoying.

  I don’t respond, knowing that he wouldn’t like or understand my answer, because, yes, yes I really do want to be down there in the middle of all that. I want to experience everything I’ve missed out on with my sheltered life. I want to act wild, to do things my parents would be ashamed of but what normal young people do on a weekly basis.

  Eddie manages to drag me away from my spot looking down over the fun below in favour of introducing me to some of his friends. I take one look at their designer suits, handbags and botox, and I know that I’m not about to be making friends with any of them.

  I try to smile and nod at all the right times, but aside from being in a different location, I may as well be back in my old life. This is the kind of pretentious bullshit I was desperate to get away from.

  My imagination sees me through the rest of the night, and, by my fourth glass of champagne, I’ve almost plucked up the courage to abandon Eddie and his self-obsessed friends in favour of finding my own fun. But just as I’ve decided to excuse myself to the toilets, his hand lands on the small of my back.

  “You ready to get out of here?”

  A little disappointment settles in my belly, knowing that I missed my opportunity to escape. But am I ready to get out of here? Yes. I was from the moment he directed me up to the VIP area.

  * * *

  Eddie quickly finds the taxi he’d ordered and ushers me inside. He slides across the seat until he’s sitting a little too close and, after barking my address at the driver, turns his heated stare on me.

  “This place suits you.” His fingers capture a lock of my short black hair as his eyes flit around my face. He knew me in my previous life as a blonde. The first thing I did when I left, before I even got to his place, was find a hairdresser. Gone are my long, golden locks in favour of a short, dark bob. I’d always thought I’d suit short hair, and the excitement I felt at being able to experiment almost got the better of me as I sat in that chair, my head spinning with delight.

  “T-thank you.”

  It amazes me that he doesn’t mention the other—what I would think is obvious—change, but he seems to have forgotten what colour my eyes were when we first met.

  “I missed you when I left. I thought of you often and whether or not I should have come back for you.”

  “That wasn’t for you to decide. I needed to wait until the time was right. You’d already caused me enough drama.” I laugh, but it’s anything but amused and more clipped and uncomfortable as he edges even closer.

  “We could be really good, you and me, Quinn.” The emphasis he puts on my name makes a shudder run down my spine.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not? You came to me for help. You must have known I’d want more with this second chance.”

  Lifting my hand, I place it on his chest in an attempt to make him back off a little.

  “You’re my friend, Eddie. I appreciate our relationship more than you could know. But that’s all it is. You know what I’ve left behind and must be able to understand that I just need to be me for a little while.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I came here for me...not for you. I came to you as my friend, as someone who could help me. That’s what I need right now. A friend. Can you be that?” I ask, my voice stronger than I thought it would be when I was brave enough to have this conversation with him.

  His eyes bounce between mine as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m jokin
g. But I’m not. I’m deadly serious. Eddie’s been a really good friend since the day I met him, but that’s all we’re ever going to be.

  The taxi slows to a stop, and, when I drag my eyes from Eddie, I find we’re outside my building.

  “Thank you for a nice night. I’ll see you at work next week.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to walk you up?”

  I look around at the dark and deserted car park, my heart starting to race a little, but I refuse to give him the wrong idea, even if he only does mean well. “No, I’ll be fine. See you soon.”

  Before he can argue, I hop out of the taxi and all but run towards the front door. I know I’m safe here, but it doesn’t stop me looking over my shoulder, especially at night.

  Chapter Three

  Butterflies flutter in my belly as my Thursday night class starts to filter into my classroom. Tonight marks a week at my new job, and although it’s very different to my previous teaching position, I’m quite enjoying it. There’s something so easy and relaxed about teaching adults who mostly want to be here. It’s miles away from the privileged kids I’m used to.

  Each student finds their seat and pulls out the folder I gave them last week, ready to get to work, but the desk at the back remains empty. I try not to dwell on the fact that I was kind of looking forward to seeing him again after the show on Friday night, but it’s there nonetheless.

  It’s two minutes after the lesson is meant to begin, and he’s still not arrived. Pushing him from my mind, I address the class and get started.

  I’ve just about finished explaining what I’d like them all to do when the door flies open and crashes back against the wall. Everyone in the room turns to see what’s going on, but his eyes only find mine. Our contact holds for a few seconds too long before he breaks away in favour of finding his seat.

  “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Kingsman.” He tips his chin, telling me that he heard, but he still remains mute as he falls down onto his chair. He doesn’t bother pulling anything from his bag, causing anger to erupt in my belly. What was I saying about the difference between teaching adults and teenagers? This defiance is something I’m much more used to.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Smith. I never stand up a good-looking woman.” He winks, and my breath catches in my throat.

  Fuck.

  A gasp echoes around the room.

  “Right. Well. In case you hadn’t noticed, this is school, and your lack of punctuality won’t be tolerated.”

  “I’m sure I have a few ways to ensure it’s overlooked.”

  “Good for you.” Picking up the worksheet he should be making a start on like some of the less nosey members of the class, I walk towards him.

  Picking up his bag, I make a show of dropping it to the floor with a thud before pushing his foot from the top of the desk. “This is evening school, Mr. Kingsman, not primary school. I suggest you start acting appropriately. I’ll catch you up on what you missed after class seeing as you couldn’t get yourself here on time.” I give him some very short and sharp instructions before turning and walking away, hoping to find some air to drag into my lungs.

  I spend the rest of the class trying to ignore his piercing stare from the back of the room and the fact that whenever he’s finished a task I’ve given him, he puts his feet up on the desk. He’s baiting me, I’m aware of that, but I’m falling for it hook, line and sinker.

  Everyone else is still reading through the first two chapters of ‘Romeo and Juliet’, ready to discuss it, but even with my head down, looking at my planner for this week's homework assignment, I can feel his stare.

  Unable to resist the urge to find out what it is he wants, I lift my eyes.

  A smug smile tugs at the corner of his lips in accomplishment.

  Damn him.

  Like he knows exactly how to wind me up, he makes a show of screwing up a piece of paper from his pad and making a half-arsed attempt at launching it towards the bin.

  I fight my need to look at where it actually lands and put it in the bin where it should be. I’m strong for a few minutes, but eventually my desire for everything to be in the right place gets the better of me. As I’m summing up what the students should have just read, I bend down, pick it up and drop it in the bin. I feel his amusement behind me, and, when I turn around, I’m proved right when I see a wide smile on his face.

  Arsehole.

  “And make sure you’re all on time next week,” I call after I’ve finished going over their assignment. A couple of sniggers fill the room as all but one of the students put their stuff away and leave the room.

  Joe, on the other hand, puts his feet back up on the desk and crosses his arms over his chest.

  My teeth grind as I stare at him. The fabric of his shirt strains under his muscular arms and across his wide chest. I take in the ink covering his forearms, and my stomach clenches as I wonder how many others his clothes could be hiding.

  I came to London with the intention of doing all the things I’ve craved since I was old enough to appreciate what a sheltered life I’d led. I wanted to be my own boss, wear clothes that I wanted and listen to the music I loved. Nowhere on my list was to be tempted by a bad boy, but shit, if he isn’t exactly what I need after the boring, vanilla life I’ve led. I’ve no doubt that he’d help me break all the rules I’ve been forced to live my life by.

  His eyebrow lifts as if he’s waiting for me to do something, and before I think against it, I stalk towards his desk, place my palms on the smooth surface beside his feet, and stare deep into his eyes. Just like with a teenager, he needs to know I won’t cower down to him.

  “I’m still waiting for an apology for being late, Mr. Kingsman.”

  Unfolding his hands, he reaches for a pen that’s lying haphazardly on his desk. Lifting it to his mouth, he taps a couple of times and, just like he probably planned, my eyes zero in on his full, soft looking lips.

  My mouth waters, and I swallow as I fight to remove the inappropriate images playing out in my head.

  When his eyes drop from holding mine captive to my cleavage, I almost stand, horrified that I’ve put myself on show like that in front of a student. But he’s not just a student. He’s the kind of guy I’ve been dreaming about since I discovered them. He’s the bad boy I’ve imagined running away with a million times, and, with the way he’s biting down on his lip right now, I’d say his thoughts aren’t too opposite to my own. A bolt of excitement races through me about how wrong this is. Anyone could walk through the door any moment and find me giving my student an eyefull.

  My temperature spikes, and my breasts swell under his gaze. Thank fuck for padded bras.

  Bending down, I bring myself so we’re at the same height and force his eyes back to mine.

  The bright blue that has been staring back at me for the past two hours is significantly darker, almost black.

  Clearing my throat, I start to explain what it was he missed when he decided to turn up almost twenty minutes late. “So, as you’ve probably now figured out, we’re going to be studying ‘Romeo and—'”

  “Quinn, are you ready?” Eddie calls from the doorway. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise you were running a late session.” His eyes bounce between the two of us, deep lines forming across his forehead.

  “I’m not. I’m just catching Joe up on what he missed as he was a little la—”

  “Lateness will not be tolerated around here,” Eddie barks, his angry stare homing in on Joe. “If it happens again, I will be forced to reevaluate your position on this course.”

  “Fantastic,” Joe mutters under his breath, making me chuckle to myself. Why am I not surprised that this man isn’t even a little concerned that someone of authority is giving him a dressing down?

  He slips his feet from the desk, collects his stuff and shoves it all into his bag. My fingers twitch to reach out and arrange it inside properly, but that’s none of my business, even if the pages of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ are now getting dog-eared. I shudder at the
thought and rise to full height.

  “We’ve got reservations. Are you ready?” Eddie eventually says, turning his heated stare from Joe to me.

  “Y-yes. Let me grab my bag.”

  I quickly swipe a Post-it Note from my desk and scribble my email address down.

  “Mr. Kingsman, any questions, just shoot me an email. I’ll see you next week.”

  He shrugs on a leather jacket before throwing his bag across his body, nods in my direction, and takes a step to leave. His eyes stay locked on mine the entire time, ensuring that the tingles he initiated earlier continue to simmer just under the surface. I sense Eddie looking between us, and eventually I manage to pull my eyes away.

  Pulling my own bag over my shoulder, I walk over to Eddie. “Be careful, Quinn. That one’s got trouble written all over him.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve handled worse.”

  “I know. I’ve met them,” he says sadly. Unfortunately, he’s right, and I know he’s not necessarily talking about my past students.

  He takes me to a Chinese place not far from my flat. Thankfully, after my little speech in the taxi last week, he seems to have backed off a little.

  “So what’s that guy’s story then?” he asks once we’ve ordered.

  My heart starts to race at just the mention of him. “No idea. You probably know more about him than me, seeing as you’d have processed his application, right?” Eddie is head of department at the college, so I’m assuming part of his job is vetting applicants.

  “I guess I did. Sadly, they aren’t required to supply a selfie.”

  Anger twists my stomach that he’s once again judging him based on his tattoos and style.

  “He might be the brightest student in that class. How he looks has nothing to do with it.”

  “But what kind of job will he ever get, looking like that?”

  “Plenty. Tattoos can be covered, Eddie. Bad attitudes are harder to hide,” I mutter to myself, but, by the narrowing of his eyes, I know he heard me.