by Pam Godwin
She’d stopped asking for her phone two weeks ago.
“They keep me company.” She followed me into the classroom, still talking about the opossums. “It’ll probably sound dumb to you, but they’re all I have here. I’ll be devastated when they move on. But I’ll also be proud and blissfully happy. I only want the best for them.” She smiled to herself. “Animals are better than people.”
“How so?”
“They don’t judge. They don’t hate. If humans had hearts like opossums, what a beautiful world this would be.”
If people had hearts like Tinsley Constantine, my faith in humanity would be renewed.
For the next few hours, I led her through her lessons. She took some exams, went to lunch, and sat through my afternoon classes. Then she finished her day with the punishment she’d earned for being late this morning.
Scrubbing floors wasn’t teaching her a damn thing. But I made no allowances. If she broke a rule, she paid the penalty. I was nothing if not consistent.
Thirty minutes into her punishment, she’d worked herself into the far corner. She also had that skirt inched up around her waist again, and this time, I didn’t look away.
Bent over on her knees, she gave me a direct view of her heart-shaped bottom in white cotton. The high-cut underwear followed the curves of toned, youthful thighs. The swath of thin material between her legs clung to her flesh, carving an explicit, mouthwatering valley from one virgin hole to the other.
I shifted in the chair behind my desk as heat rushed below my belt and tightened between my legs.
That damn skirt hadn’t bunched around her waist on its own. I now suspected it hadn’t been the breeze that exposed her this morning, either.
She was playing with danger, taunting the beast, enticing something she couldn’t handle. Whatever this was, whatever her intentions, I would have to reprimand her.
But I was hard as a rock, burning up, unraveling from the inside out. My sacred control was slipping. I couldn’t walk over there. I couldn’t go to her with my dick standing up and hunger pounding in my veins.
So I forced my gaze to my laptop and worked through tomorrow’s lesson plans. By the time she stored the supplies in the closet, I had the composure and presence of mind to deal with her.
“I finished the floor.” She snatched a pen from my desk and twirled it. “What now?”
“Now we address your attention-seeking behavior.”
The pen stopped spinning.
“Beyond the thrill-seeking element, exposing yourself to your teacher is a wanton, pathetic attempt to get noticed.” I sent a dark look across the desk. “It’s a cry for attention.”
Unflinching, she met my glare. “A cry for attention?”
“It’s a misdialed way of expressing insecurity, jealousy, and loneliness.”
“Okay.” She carefully set down the pen and rolled her shoulders. “So that’s one way to look at it.”
“If there’s another way…” I flicked a hand, motioning. “Go ahead. The floor is yours.”
“All right.” She stepped around the desk, one foot before the other, until she stood at my side within arm’s reach. “Your position suggests that attention is inherently bad for you, that it’s a sinful or gluttonous thing to crave, like adultery or drugs. But isn’t the need for attention essential to being human? What is marriage without the attention of a spouse? What is priesthood without the attention of his flock? What is a child without the attention of her parents?” She looked away, blinked, and returned to me. “Isn’t the gift of attention one of the most selfless and impactful things we can give one another?”
She stood taller, regarding me with eyes of searching blue.
Intelligent eyes.
Beautiful mind.
Every day with her was a wild ride of tight turns, steep slopes, and unpredictable adjustments. I’d never been so mentally and physically aroused in my life.
“Yes.” My voice rasped, and I cleared my throat. “But do you understand that attention isn’t the same as affection?”
“I know that.”
“And showing your backside to your teacher is a quest for negative attention.”
“Negative?” She pressed her fist to the desk. “Because the image of my body is negative? Or is it my panties that you find negative? You’ve already seen them before. Because you demanded I remove them, I might add. So what exactly do you find negative beneath my skirt?”
“Do not twist my words, Miss Constantine.” My voice cracked like a whip, making her take a step back. “When you misbehave for the sole purpose of seeking attention, the punishment becomes a reward. That’s negative attention, which I will not give. So I’m letting you off with this warning. I do not want to see your underwear again.”
I twisted away, turning my attention to the laptop.
She lingered for a moment, her breathing fast and shallow. Then she ambled to the door.
At the threshold, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. “You were right about one thing. I am lonely, Father Magnus.”
As she slipped into the hall, I felt a deep, uncomfortable pang pull through my gut and burrow all the way down to my bones. I didn’t have a name for it. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that I needed it gone.
I needed her to come back.
“Tinsley.” I listened to the sounds of her steps slow, halt, and retrace her path.
When she reappeared in the doorway, my relief was immediate, the warmth in my chest absolute.
“One more thing.” I reached into my desk drawer and removed her phone from the charger. “What’s your number?”
Her eyebrows pinched together as she approached, rattling off the digits. I entered the number into my phone and sent a text to hers.
“The Winter Formal is coming up.” I handed over her device. “Perhaps one of your siblings will bring you a dress.”
“Thank you.” Her brows pulled in even tighter. “Did you just send me a message?”
“Yes. Have you spoken to Miriam about your feelings of loneliness?”
“No. God.” She made a horrified face. “I don’t know her, and I don’t need a counselor.”
I figured she’d say that. “You can text me, anytime, for any reason.”
“I appreciate that.” She stared down at her phone, and a slow, mischievous smile bowed her lips as she met my eyes. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about me, Father Magnanimous. Whenever I feel like giving in, I remember I have a lot of assholes to disappoint.”
No question she was referring to me. Her mother, too. And perhaps the family she was expected to marry into.
As I watched her sashay out of the room with her head held high, one thing was certain.
Tinsley was going to take over the reins of her life, even if that meant walking away without a penny from her family.
I would be rooting for her, even if I were one of the assholes standing in her way.
CHAPTER 14
TINSLEY
“You don’t seem happy, Tins.”
“I am now.” I buried my face in Keaton’s chest and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. “I missed you.”
“Let’s talk about that.” My brother took my hand and led me farther away from the main building.
It had been five days since Magnus returned my phone. I’d texted Keaton immediately, just to check in and explain why I hadn’t responded to his messages and missed calls.
Now that he’d graduated high school, he was super busy bouncing between England and France, kicking ass in his new life with his new girlfriend. Way too busy to deal with my trivial problems. I hadn’t asked him to come to Maine.
I should’ve known he would show up the very next weekend.
The cold air nipped at my cheeks as I joined him on a bench in the courtyard, away from the other families. Every girl within eyeshot was staring. Of course, they were. Keaton exuded the Constantine swagger that came naturally to all the men in my family.
He was the youngest of my three brothers, only nineteen, but he had the same musculature and athleticism, arrogance and assertiveness, basically everything one would look for in a handsome alpha male.
And all the girls were looking. Except Nevada Hildebrand. I hadn’t seen her since she got suspended, but the rumor was she would be back at school this weekend.
“When you weren’t answering your phone, I called Mother.” Keaton hooked his arm around me, keeping me warm.
“Let me guess. She told you I was fine and not to bother me.”
“Yes.” His eyes glowed with guilt. “I shouldn’t have listened to her.”
“Keaton, I’m fine.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Just trying to adjust, that’s all.”
“Please, tell me that’s not one of your teachers.”
I followed his gaze across the courtyard and found the steel blue eyes of my nemesis staring back.
“Yeah.” I pressed my middle finger against my lips and smiled sweetly at the moody priest. “That’s Father Magnus Falke. My only teacher.”
Keaton was off the bench before I could stop him.
“Wait.” I ran after him, tugging on his coat. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t like the way he’s staring at you.” He yanked his arm free. “I’m just gonna have a chat with him.”
That was a terrible idea. My brother was cocky, overprotective, and mouthier than I was.
“Just remember.” I jogged to stay at his side. “When you leave today, I have to stay here and deal with the fallout. He doesn’t respond well to threats or disrespect, so please, just…play nice?”
We ran out of distance before he could respond.
“Keaton Constantine.” He moved right up into Magnus’s face and grabbed my hand, hauling me against his side. “I’m Tinsley’s brother.”
“I see the resemblance.” Magnus didn’t move. Not a flicker of surprise or irritation.
They stood neck and neck, same heights, similar builds, equal intensity in their eye contact.
“We may look alike.” Keaton squeezed my hand, preventing me from pulling away. “But I know you see a lot more when you look at her. A beautiful young thing in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. I’m guessing you’ve never seen a girl as pretty as her come through here.”
“Keaton.” With a growl, I yanked on my hand. “Stop.”
He tightened his grip. “Just remember who her family is, who her brothers are. If you touch one hair on her head—”
“No threats, Keaton.” I shoved at his rigid, immovable frame and turned to Magnus. “I told him not to threaten you.”
“That’s okay. Maybe his warning will be more creative and stimulating than your mother’s.” Magnus tilted his head, regarding my brother with chilling indifference. “You were saying?”
Keaton’s eyes pulsed with the churn of his thoughts. I saw his surprise in learning that our mother had come to my defense. Then I saw his realization as he made the correct assumption about her motivation.
I don’t want a scandal. It’s that simple.
“Caroline’s reasons for intimidation are her own.” He adjusted his grip on my hand, entwining our fingers. “But I’m here for one thing only. My sister. She’s my whole world, and I will always be in her corner.”
My heart thudded, and I dropped my chin to my chest, hiding the wobbly smile that tugged at my lips. God, I loved him.
He leaned past me, bending his mouth to Magnus’s ear. While I couldn’t see his expression, I heard the malice in his whisper.
“You might be fooling everyone else with that collar around your throat. But I saw the way you looked at her, priest, and I don’t like it. If you hurt her, I will come for you.”
Shit. My breath left me as he pulled my hand. I moved my feet, trying to keep up with his sudden pivot and ground-erasing strides, only because I wanted my shoulder to remain in its socket.
Typical Constantine. He’d said his piece and got the last word. I was about to open my mouth and lay into him when Magnus’s voice boomed at our backs.
“You underestimate her.”
Keaton pulled up short and spun, taking me with him.
“If anyone tries to hurt her,” Magnus said, his stony eyes fixed on my brother, “it won’t be you who strikes back in her defense.”
“Then who—?” His jaw hardened, and his head made a slow rotation in my direction.
As it dawned on him that Magnus meant me, that I was the one who would strike back, his entire bearing softened.
“She needs you in her corner.” Magnus held his arms behind him, his gorgeous face void of emotion. “But she doesn’t need you to fight her fights. Your sister has more ferocity than you and me combined.”
A flutter erupted in my chest, and my stomach did this dippy, bouncy thing that felt a lot like vertigo.
“At least he’s not an idiot,” Keaton muttered. Then he raised his voice, addressing Magnus. “She’s not only fierce. She has a genius IQ. If that doesn’t intimidate you, then you’re already an improvement over her other teachers.” He canted his head, indicating the direction he wanted me to walk. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t intimidate him.” I ambled along beside him, smiling at his pensive expression. “Mother couldn’t even do that. He’s dauntless.”
“Do you like that guy?”
Now probably wasn’t the time to tell him that Magnus had taken a pair of scissors to the tennis bracelet Keaton had given me.
“Not really,” I said. “He’s strict, demanding, and has the emotional sensitivity of a coffin. But he can be reasonable sometimes. And he’s right, you know. I’m pretty awesome at standing up for myself.”
“I know, Tins. But I hate the idea of you being here, in the middle of goddamn Maine, standing up for yourself alone.”
“I’m not alone. You’re a phone call away.”
“Always.”
There was a big fat omission between being alone and being lonely. But for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to burden my brother with my problems.
I wasn’t going to tell him how much I hated it here or how I intended to get expelled. He would only worry and interfere, and like Magnus said, I needed to fight my own fights.
“So tell me about this Winter Formal.” He winked at a group of sophomore girls he passed, making them giggle and blush. “Who’s the boy you’re going with?”
“The boy is only a few months younger than you.”
“I hate him already.”
“He’s a Kensington.”
He stopped, and a muscle feathered across his jaw. “Tucker Kensington?”
“Yep. He asked me to the dance after church a couple of weeks ago. I gave him my number, and he’s been sending me dick pics. Pretty sure I’m going to get laid on the night of the dance.”
“I’m going to kill him.” His face turned a murderous shade of red.
“No, you’re not.”
“Tinsley.” Eyes blazing, he scanned our surroundings as if willing Tucker to appear so he could commence with the homicide.
“Do you want me to be a virgin my entire life?”
“I want to not think about it.”
“If you’re willing to commit murder over my hymen, we’re going to talk about it.”
From the edge of the courtyard, I watched Magnus as he greeted the families. One of the mothers, a pretty older woman, offered her hand and a coquettish grin. He gripped her fingers and gave her a look that likely soaked her panties.
As if he could sense me, his gaze found mine across the distance. His eyes—so deep and cold and weighed down with secrets—were an assault on my senses.
“When will you see Tucker again?” Keaton asked, pulling my attention back.
“Every interaction is supervised. You’re not going to kill him because I was joking about the dick pics. Also, he doesn’t actually get to take me to the dance. We have to meet there, and if his hand so much as slides from my shoulder to my waist, it’ll
be ripped from his arm, probably by the priest who is currently staring daggers at us.”
“Good.”
“Good? Is this what you want for me? To be cloistered like a nun during my last year of high school?”
“No.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head. After a slow exhale, he looked at me with so much love it made my chest swell. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Have some faith in me. Trust me to make choices that are right for me and the life I want.”
“I do.”
“Prove it. Accept the fact that I’m going to have sex, and maybe I’ll get my heart broken. But I’ll survive it. You know why? Because I’m a fucking Constantine.”
“Yeah, you are.” A wolfish grin split his face. “I feel sorry for the bastards you leave in the dust.” His head tipped as he studied me for a moment. “I brought you something.”
“Please, tell me it’s a silk pillowcase.”
“Maybe.” His eyes glimmered. “Actually, my car is packed with shit. I figured you hadn’t brought much with you for your dorm, so Iris and I did a little shopping. She picked out all the clothes, including a dress for your dance. And yes, I bought you a silk pillowcase.”
“Keaton…” My eyes burned, blurring his face. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wish I could do more.”
“You being here… It’s more than I could’ve ever hoped. Where’s Iris so I can thank her?”
“She stopped in to visit her parents at Pembroke. You’ll see her over Christmas.”
There were only two ways that would happen—if Magnus gave my mother a satisfactory report or if I got expelled. I was failing both of those options fantastically.
“Hey.” I bumped my shoulder against his arm, smiling. “Do you want to meet Jaden and Willow?”
“The opossums?”
“Of course, the opossums.”
Keaton spent a full ten hours with me before being chased off campus by the curfew police. It was the best day I’d had in a very long time.
He had to fly back to England tomorrow, and I wouldn’t see him again until Christmas. Hopefully.
I needed to up my power of seduction, but I was working with an impenetrable brick wall. Magnus was impossible to crack, his resolve made entirely from iron. If he had a sex drive, it was buried beneath steel plates.