See Me After Class(34)

“Pops begged me to break up with her to appease his wife.”

“Wasn’t she your first blow job?”

I raise a brow in her direction. “Why is that something you know?”

“Think I heard you talking about it with one of your friends. Or . . .” Coraline taps her chin. “Did Tiffany tell me? Hmm, I can’t remember. Either way, she was your first. Daring man, given she had braces.”

“Yeah, well, we all make bad decisions. It was shortly after that we broke up.”

“Metal mouth eat up your dick?” Coraline smiles widely.

“No, she was eating up other guys’ dicks at the same time.”

“What? Really? She was cheating on you?”

“She labeled it as experimenting. I didn’t see it that way. We broke up.” I set out the napkins and the silverware along with my plates.

“And then that’s when you started dating Gemma and lost your virginity, right?”

“Why are you detailing the timeline of my sexual experiences?”

She rocks on her butt, looking like she’s having far too much fun. “Bored. Nothing better to do. Now, were you short on the trigger?”

Turning my back to her, I say, “What do you think?”

“Given I’ve taken two virginities in my lifetime, I’d say yes.”

“You’ve taken two virginities?” I ask, knowing my sister is pretty much the only one I would have this conversation with. She’s the only person I feel comfortable around. I don’t have to wear a shield of armor around her because she knows everything about my life. We don’t share the same father. We don’t have a stable mother. And we were both raised by our grandparents, thankfully, who tried to keep even heads on our shoulders, while our mother ran away and took her shot at acting.

She was in a few commercials, but never hit her stride. She still lives in Los Angeles, picking up odd jobs here and there, living off one-eighth of our grandparents’ inheritance, while Coraline and I obtained most of it. We say Merry Christmas to each other, but that’s the extent of our communication, and I’m okay with that, because I have Coraline.

She’s my family.

She’s all I need.

Even if she’s incessant with her needling conversation about my personal life.

“I’m pretty sure it was three, but Bobby swore he’d had sex before. To this day, I don’t believe him, he barely got it in before he was coming.”

“Jesus.” I place my hands on the island and lower my head. “Okay, we’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“How did you guess?”

She smooths her hair behind her ear. “I’m good at reading people.”

Sighing, I lean against the counter and ask, “So, where did you go off to yesterday? You were gone for quite some time.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She winks and plops another melon ball in her mouth.

“I would, actually.”

“Well, that’s my personal business, just like you said whatever is happening between you and Greer is your personal business.”

That’s exactly what I said to her Thursday night, when she wouldn’t stop badgering me about the encounter with Greer during lunch. Hell, I don’t even know what happened—how would I explain it to Coraline?

One minute I had Romeo’s nipple pinched between my fingers, and then, the next thing I knew, I was inches from Greer, about to lay her across her classroom desk and pull her nipple between my teeth.

That goddamn dress.

Those innocent eyes.

The lightest of smirks on her face, knowing she’d bested me.

The combination pushed me over the edge, and I wanted to punish her, maul her . . . fuck her.

After I retreated from her classroom, a wave of awareness washed over me.

I don’t do that shit.

I don’t lose control, let my emotions get the best of me, but there I was, acting rather than thinking.

And I can still smell her, feel her chest barely reaching up to mine from her heavy breath, hear the quiet, whisper-like sound of her voice.

She’s all I’ve been able to think about for the past few days and it’s driving me fucking insane.

What’s driving me insane? The gall she had to prank me.

After I already laid down the groundwork for a civil teaching environment, she blatantly disregarded that and decided to not only get back at me tenfold, but to rope in my unapologetic friends, as well.

It’s obvious in a few short weeks she’s been able to irritate me and get in the good graces of my friends. Which means only one thing—I need to be ready for whatever is thrown my way today.

Coraline hops off the counter and comes up next to me. She pokes me in the arm. “Thinking about Greer?”

“What?” I shake my head. “No.”

Coraline lets out a belly laugh. “Liar. Isn’t she about my age?”

I shrug, even though I know for a fact she’s twenty-four.

“That means you’re about eight years older than her, since you’re ripe with age and all.”

“I’m thirty-two, that’s not ripe with age.”

“Still, leer at someone your own age.”

“I’m not leering at her. I’m not . . . anything with her. You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”