See Me After Class(104)

Fuck.

Me.

“Oh my God. You and Greer are a thing?”

Coughing, I sit up from the ground and nurse my shoulder while I try to gain my bearings. What the hell just happened?

“I can’t believe it. You and Greer. I never would have thought you two would get together. I mean, yeah, maybe there was some sexual tension, but you guys hate each other. Don’t you? Well, I guess not, not after all the evidence I uncovered. Wow, you and Greer. She’s hot, by the way. Too hot for you, I think. She could easily do better, and I say that out of love.” She shakes her head. “Who knows? Do the boys know? Gah. Does Stella know? Keeks? I will scream bloody murder if I’m the last person to figure this out. Straight up, I will stab an apple with a knife. And don’t you dare lie to me. Who knows?”

“No one,” I say, coughing again.

“That seems like a lie.”

I stand from my seated position and snap my phone out of her hands. “It’s not a lie. Greer wants to keep it to ourselves right now since our friend circle is so close. We don’t want you idiots making it awkward for us.”

“Wait.” She stands as well, growing serious. “You mean to tell me that I’m the only one who knows about you two?”

“Not by my choice.” I adjust my shirt and look in the mirror on the wall by the hallway, adjusting my hair.

“Oh my God. I’m in the know. Look at me, knowing secrets. Teacher secrets. And I don’t even work at the damn school.”

“Thank God for that,” I say, lifting my shirt and examining my ribs. Slightly red, but no serious bruising. “And where the hell did you learn to wrestle like that?”

“While your nose was stuck in a book, I was out earning my street cred.”

“I’d believe that if you weren’t wearing a pair of Gucci sweatpants.”

She glances at her pants and then up at me. “Hey, these pants were a gift from He Who Shall Not Be Named, and just because he gave them to me, doesn’t mean I’m going to let them eat dust in my closet. Hell no. I’ll wear holes in them.”

“Good to know.” I head toward the garage again. “Not sure when I’ll be home. Don’t wait up. And for the love of God, don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret if safe with me,” she says, chasing after me. “And, Arlo?”

I turn around to find her bouncing up and down, hands clasped. “What?”

She smiles and says, “I’m really excited for you. Greer is amazing. Treat her well, okay?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Good, and even though I love her, I love you more. I’m happy you’re giving this a shot. You deserve happiness, too.”

My anger fades, and I give her a soft smile. Despite what she went through, Cora can still see the positive in relationships. She humbles me. I hope one day she’s ready to let someone into her heart. They’d be one lucky bastard. “Thank you.”

“Now go plow her into the wall with your penis.”

Christ.





I knock on the door and feel the rapid beat of my heart as I wait for her to answer. I’m nervous. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I’ve never been nervous about sex, but something about going into this, knowing that’s what she wants, gives me a slight trickle of performance anxiety.

And to hell if I’d ever say that to her.

I can’t let her think I’m anything but ready for what she has planned.

I tried to get clues from her earlier, but she didn’t budge.

Oh, and her text message that she sent . . .

Yeah, it said: “See you soon, Mr. Turns Me On.”

I’d have preferred that my sister didn’t read that. Humiliation sank in on the drive over here, and I pray that Coraline has short-term memory loss.

Knowing her, though, she’ll never forget it, or the moment where her big brother confessed to being in a relationship.

Well . . . is this a relationship?

I think it is.

The door swings open and Greer greets me, wearing a short white silk robe. Her hair is in waves around her shoulders, and she doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on her face.

Mother.

Fucker.

There is no way I’m going to last.

“You’re here,” she says, pulling me in by the hand.

I kick the door shut behind me and then spin her around so she’s pinned against the wall. I caress her face right before I lower my mouth to hers, where I taste the cherry of her ChapStick.

I allow my hands to briefly explore, pushing inside her robe and feeling lace along my fingertips when they brush against the underside of her bra. Looks like she’s giving me a brief glimpse of that lingerie collection.

Her hands fall to the hem of my simple white T-shirt and start to pull it up, but I stop her and separate our mouths.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Not jumping right into it. Let’s talk.”

“Ugh, you and your talking. I know I said open up, be intimate with me, but I didn’t think you were going to want to be so chatty.”

I chuckle as she drags me by the hand to her bed.

“Uh, we’re not chatting on your bed.”

“And where else do you plan on chatting?” she asks, one hand on her hip.