Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "I'm going to try like hell not to."
"All right then." I sipped my coffee, silent as I studied signs along the highway and shoulder-height snow drifts. "Since I know how you feel about benchmarks and metrics and such things, let's establish a target. A goal, if you will."
Drew shot me a sidelong glance before saying, "Go on."
"We'll give this a shot," I said, gesturing between us. "We'll date. We'll meet each other's families and spend time together. We'll be a couple—quietly. I'm not suggesting we sneak around but I don't want the eyeballs of the entire teaching staff on us while we figure this out. And if we like where it's going, we'll make a big announcement at the end-of-year staff party."
"You're giving me almost seven months? That seems generous," he quipped.
"Do you want it or not?" I snapped, a laugh ringing in my words.
He reached over and laced my fingers in his. "I want it."
Chapter Eleven
Tara
"Ramen bowls?" Drew asked from his end of the sofa as he ran his hands over my ankles and up my legs.
"We had ramen bowls two nights ago," I replied, snuggling deeper into his cozy blanket.
Rather surprisingly, I liked Drew's apartment a lot. It wasn't nearly as cold or impersonal as I'd imagined—although I had imagined him sleeping in a hollowed-out torpedo so anything was an improvement on that.
Much like the blanket he'd kept artfully draped over the back of the sofa, his place was cozy. There were books everywhere, he had a habit of abandoning his ties all over the place, he kept nothing in the refrigerator—and we'd been holed up here since returning from his hometown several days ago.
We'd even agreed to skip the school's annual holiday party today because we didn't want to forfeit these final hours of couple time before we had to get back to business on Monday.
And we didn't want to put on real clothes.
He regarded me with a slight smile. "Pizza?"
I shook my head with an exaggerated groan. "It's New Year's Day. We're supposed to be eating egg whites and asparagus or…something dreadful like that."
"As you said, sweetheart, dreadful," he replied. "How do you feel about tempura? There's a place Clark turned me onto last year with the best vegetable tempura I've ever had." When his phone buzzed, he reached for it on the coffee table and chuckled. "Speak of the freakin' devil."
"What is it?"
He handed me his phone. "See for yourself."
Clark: Where are you, man? It's the school holiday party. Attendance is basically mandatory and I require a shoulder to commiserate on.
Clark: FFS, I'm here and we all know I'd rather be anywhere but.
Clark: The elementary team is hypothesizing whether you and Treloff finally killed each other. It would be amusing to watch if I wasn't trying to get the hell out of here but that's not happening.
Clark: The problem being, the human shield I brought with me today is now besties with the boss and she's hooking us up with a new science teacher so I'll probably die here.
I shot Drew a confused smile. "What does any of this mean?"
He met me with an equally confused blink. "You don't know?"
Slowly shaking my head, I said, "I understand that both of us skipping that party might raise some eyebrows and start up the rumor mill but what's this about commiserating and human shields?"
He tapped out a quick response and dropped his phone back on the table. "Clark has a thing for Noa. A significant thing."
"Does she know that?" I asked, thinking about the middle grade language arts teacher Noa Elbaz.
"Oh, hell no," he replied with a laugh. "No, no, no. She's made it perfectly clear that's a nonstarter and he…well, he's still getting over that rejection. He does a fantastic job of making her believe he's busy being Tinder's top user."
"But—but—they lesson plan together every weekend." I couldn't wrap my mind around this. "They collaborate on everything. Their pacing is lockstep. They debrief every single class during passing periods. How do they—how does he survive that?"
"It's a cocktail of bitterness and resentment with a chaser of self-flagellation," he replied.
"Ohhhhh." Now I understood. I never would've guessed these men were tender-hearted buddies. "You and Clark both—that's why he needed a shoulder for commiseration."
"Yes." He squeezed my calf. "Clark will make it through without me. There are plenty of people at this event to distract him."
Before I could ask anything else, my phone buzzed—and didn't stop. "Wow," I breathed, reading through messages from Emme Ahlborg, the sorceress of second grade, Audrey Saunders, the fabulous ruler of the fifth graders, and Shay Zucconi, the queen of kindergarten. "The elementary team really does think we killed each other."
Emme: Hey, doll. So, some of our dear friends are worried you've died. Please confirm otherwise.
Audrey: Hi there. We're all here at the holiday party and wondering if you're okay.
Shay: Tara! I thought I was going to see you today at Lauren's! What's up, girlfriend?
Audrey: I'm sure you're all right and everything is fine but you know how I worry.
Shay: Tell the truth—did you and Larsen fight it out cage-match style? And can I hear the gory details?
Emme: If you're busy living your life, please continue doing that. Explanations are unnecessary. Everyone will just have to simmer down.
Audrey: You know I worry a lot. I'm sorry. It's just so unlike you to miss an event and I haven't seen you since before the winter break started.
Emme: Ignore Audrey. I'll deal with her.
When I handed him the device, he scrolled through the messages with a low whistle. "Your team adores you. You’ve even snatched Audrey out from underneath me."
"You say that like it's a competition. Like it's a knock against you because my team is demonstrably affectionate." I wagged a finger at him. "Everyone adores you. It might not be the same love and sunshine I get but that's because it's what I give them. They adore you in reliable, loyal, tireless ways because that's what you give them."
"Do you?" he asked. "Adore me?"
I pressed my toes against his inner thigh. "I think I might."
Chapter Twelve
Tara
"Happy New Year," Lauren sang as we settled around her conference table on the first day back from winter break. "Even though it's only been two weeks, I feel like I haven't seen you guys in months."
"Again, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your New Year's Day cookie-and-wine swap party," I said, sneaking a quick glance across the table at Drew. He was frowning at his laptop, completely indifferent to my presence. It was kind of amazing how quickly he slipped back into that mode. "It was such a blast last year. I loved those shortbread cookies you made. I hate that I missed it."
It didn't seem necessary to explain why I'd missed her party and she wasn't pressed for details. Since Drew and I weren't prepared to make this thing we had going public—the new thing, not the old thing where we fantasized about killing each other—and most of our friends were teachers at the school, we'd gorged on (and argued about) takeout, watched (and argued about) movies, drank (and argued about) cheap champagne.
"Well, there's approximately nine million cookies in the workroom if you want to grab some now," she replied. "No wine. That will have to wait until after hours, you know, on account of all the children in the building and the fact it's nine in the morning."
Drew ignored both of us in his pursuit of constant frowning.
"While that is tempting, I had more than enough sugar for breakfast," I replied.
And there it was—the tiniest of smirks from my arch enemy. My nemesis. The man who drove me absolutely fucking crazy and nearly forced me out of this school and my job in the process. The one who smothered me in so much affection, I only stopped smiling to argue with him.
Yeah, we still fought like cats and dogs. That wasn't about to change and I didn't think I'd want tha
t. The basis of our relationship was big, bold disagreement but we didn't hate each other nearly as much as we'd thought.
No, it required trust and openness to really argue with someone. To make strong statements and stand behind them even when that meant risking everything.
Of course, the insults and name-calling didn't make for the model of effective communication but we'd mostly abandoned that practice.
Mostly.
"Let's dig in," Lauren said, opening her notebook. "I'd love to hear about the session in Albany, even though it was cut short. I still can't believe a blizzard blew through like that. I hope it wasn't too tough getting back here."
Drew groaned, shutting his eyes as he rubbed his temples. "We made it out alive. Let's leave it at that."
When Lauren turned a questioning glance toward me, I said, "It was my fault. I wasn't wearing the right shoes for a blizzard."
"Blizzard, light rainfall, what's the difference?" he muttered.
I gave Lauren a quick shrug. "We made it out alive."
She wagged her pen at me and Drew. "Do I sense a change in the tides?"
I glanced across the table as he closed his laptop. My heart was hammering in my chest and my stomach was churning, and I had to unwrap the scarf from around my neck because I was suddenly burning up.
I didn't know how Lauren was going to react to this news.
"Well, Lauren," he started, meeting my gaze with an arched brow and the barest hint of a smile, "the professional development conference yielded some professional…developments. I am profoundly happy to report we've reached an understanding."
She stared at him for a moment before swiveling toward me. "You just lost me a bet with my husband."
"I—what?" I asked.
She waved me off, saying, "It doesn't matter. Keep it professional during school hours and whenever you're in the building. If things don't work out—"
"I took her home to Pennsylvania for Christmas after I spent Christmas Eve with her family," Drew interrupted, again occupied with frowning at his computer. "Not working out isn't among the options."
Now, my heart was hammering for a different reason.
"I want to hear those words from Tara," Lauren said with a sharp chuckle.
Smiling across the table, I said, "I can't believe I'm saying it but Drew's right. On this occasion and relating to this topic, I completely agree with him."
Chapter Thirteen
Drew
Almost seven months later
"I can't wear it right now," Tara insisted as we walked down Beacon Street together. "Everyone will notice immediately."
"Then they notice immediately and it's out in the open," I argued. "Fucking finally."
If there was something more agonizing than spending two full months searching for the perfect engagement ring and then another month planning the perfect proposal, it was a fiancée who said yes but required we keep it all a secret from the entire goddamn world for two grueling weeks until we could make a big announcement.
I wanted Tara to have everything she desired and I didn't care what it was—hell, we were moving in together when her lease ended in August and we'd already decided to get married at that inn out in the Berkshires next summer and I didn't gag when I took a sip of her cinnamon-sprinkled lattes anymore. But I wanted to wrap my arms around her in front of our friends and colleagues and shout "Mine."
"We need to make the announcement, Drew," she said. "If they see a ring, they'll go nuts and it will snowball from there. They'll think it's a prank if I say I'm marrying you."
"Well, that's delightful," I grumbled, holding the door to Hops'N'Scotch open for her. "I suppose we're sticking to the original plan then?"
Before stepping inside, she replied, "Yes. You're doing all the end-of-year recognitions, I'm leading the dramatic reenactment of the best moments of this school year plus my special Bayside rendition of "We're All In This Together" from High School Musical, and after Lauren gives her big, sappy speeches for the people who are leaving us, you'll jump in with your usual 'Hey, everyone, I have one more thing for the group.' Then I'll put on the ring."
"What do you mean, my usual?"
Before she could respond, Max Murphy, the school's gym teacher, stepped through the doorway, saying, "Come on, now, kids. No fighting today. Not unless you want me to organize a dodgeball game to the death. Then again, some carnage might brighten my spirits."
The poor guy was still bruised from a nasty break-up with his cheating boyfriend over the winter. He was unflappable with the kids but there was no mistaking the rain cloud hanging heavy over him these past few months.
As he disappeared into the tavern, she gestured after him. "See? They'd think it's a prank. They still think we can't stand each other and that will make your usual one-more-thing even better."
In truth, we didn't have to work that hard at keeping up our ongoing disagreements. We still had different viewpoints and priorities and methods, and tearing each other's clothes off the minute we got home from work didn't change that. If anything, it made it all the more enjoyable.
"Fine," I muttered. "Let's get this over with."
I followed Tara inside but we promptly split up as we always did, her swallowed up by the elementary teachers and me busying myself with the projector and slide deck to accompany the award portion of these events. Staying busy was the only way to keep this charade going.
If I had time on my hands, I'd spend it gazing at my fiancée and thinking about all the ways she drove me crazy. I'd been caught doing that a time or two and everyone seemed to think I was sick.
If only they knew how wrong they were.
After Tara's extremely goofy but highly adorable performance and Lauren's farewells, I stood, saying, "Could I have one minute? Just one last thing?"
"The next round is on you, Larsen," Max shouted.
I nodded, saying, "I'm on board with that. I think we'll all want to raise a glass after you hear what I have to say." Tara buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. When she peeked at me through her fingers, I beckoned for her to join me. "Get up here, Treloff."
"Oh my god, what's happening?" Audrey asked.
Emme covered Audrey's hand with hers. "Unwedge your panties. Everything will be all right."
Once Tara joined me at the front of the space, she gestured to the group, saying, "Go ahead then. This is your part. On with it."
Suddenly, I was at a loss for words. I'd planned this out but now I couldn't remember what I intended to say. I couldn't reach the carefully crafted beginning or the smooth transitions I'd drafted. I didn't have the anecdotes or light jokes ready. It was gone. And then—
"I think what Drew wants to say is that this has been a really amazing year for us," Tara said. "We've learned and grown so much as your deans and as educators, and we've grown in some personal ways as well."
She glanced at me and we shared a smile. I couldn't do this anymore, I couldn't stand here and be separate from her. I reached out, clasped her hand.
"Why are mommy and daddy looking at each other that way?" Shay asked. "It's weird."
"I think they're going to arm wrestle now," Max added.
Finally finding my words, I said, "I think you all know I love Bayside. This is the best job in the world and you and our students are family to me, and I suppose it makes good sense I'd fall in love at school." I grinned as Tara released my hand to pluck the ring from her pocket. When it was seated in its proper place, I laced her fingers with mine again. "I asked Miss Treloff to marry me and—it shocked me as much as it's shocking you—she said yes."
To say the crowd went wild would be the understatement of the year. They went completely crazy and swarmed us with hugs, handshakes, and more than a few questions about this being an elaborate joke. I didn't mind those questions at all, not when I could answer them with Tara right beside me.
When the group turned their attention to placing that drink order I was paying for, Clark made his way tow
ard us. Tara was busy listening to Lauren's top two hundred wedding planning tips to notice.
"I hate you," he said with a laugh. "Our friendship is over."
I shrugged, saying, "I never thought this would happen and I couldn't have orchestrated it in a thousand years but it did. Maybe it'll happen for you too."
He dipped his hands into his pockets with a sad shake of his head. "Hmm. Probably not but isn't it pretty to think so?"
I paused, glancing across the tavern as I searched for a response that acknowledged Clark's misery but also kicked his ass into high gear because he wasn't going to change a damn thing if he spent all his time picking up women on dating apps and throwing them in Noa's face.
Instead of finding the words, I found Noa leaning against the bar—and watching Clark.
"Don't give up just yet," I said. "You never know when a blizzard will strand you in the Berkshires with just one bed."
"Fuck, I wish," he howled, slapping me on the back before trotting off to drown his sorrows.
"Is he all right?" Tara whispered.
I nodded and kissed her temple. "He will be."
"Are you all right?" she asked.
I folded her into my arms and felt years of tension finally, thoroughly fall away. "I am now."
Thank you for reading! I hope you loved Drew and Tara’s journey, and the rest of the Bayside family.
Max Murphy is working hard at mending his broken heart. Keep reading for a snippet from Orientation, arriving on September 15.
If you’re ready to go back in time to where it all started, Underneath It All introduces Matt and Lauren as she worked to open Bayside School. Keep reading for an excerpt!
Join my newsletter for new release alerts, exclusive extended epilogues and bonus scenes, and more—including future books featuring Bayside School couples (cough cough Clark and Noa)!
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