See Me After Class(74)
Romeo: Damn it. He saw. What do we do now?
Gunner: Pretend someone stole our phones.
Romeo: Good idea.
Romeo: Oh, hey, Arlo, someone stole our phones.
Gunner: Yup, travesty, but we got them back.
Arlo: You are fucking morons. You were still texting in the group thread.
Gunner: Ah, hell.
Romeo: Damn you, beer. shakes fist
Arlo: What the hell is going on?
Gunner: Should we tell him?
Romeo: I think we should. He’s onto us.
Arlo: Get to the point.
Gunner: sighs We went out to dinner with Greer and, dude, she’s fucking phenomenal. The total package.
Romeo: We told her if you weren’t such a douche, you two would be perfect together.
Gunner: You would. So . . . care to shake the douche off and give it a go with her?
Arlo: Stay the hell out of my business.
Gunner: ^^^that’s the kind of douche we’re talking about.
Romeo: Yeah, wouldn’t kill you to be a touch nicer.
Gunner: Maybe smile a little.
Romeo: Chortle every so often.
Gunner: Lighten up.
Romeo: Pull the stick out.
Gunner: Act like a civilized human . . .
Arlo: Did you want to practice and eat at my place?
Gunner: Yes!
Romeo: That’s rhetorical, right?
Arlo: Then stay out of my personal life.
Romeo: Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?
Gunner: Dude, I was thinking the same thing. He’s being ruder than usual.
Arlo: Still in the group thread.
Gunner: Mother of God!
Romeo: Beer, you tempting mistress.
“It smells amazing in here,” Stella says, walking into my house with Greer trailing behind her. “My stomach is starting to crave your house.”
I shut the door behind them, everyone else is already here.
I’ve had quite the fucking weekend so far, thanks to Gunner and Romeo’s texting. After their Friday night drunk texts, they texted me again yesterday and continued to tell me how amazing Greer is. After a while, I stopped responding, because I didn’t know what to say.
Yeah, she’s great.
She makes me feel things I’m not sure I’m ready for—hell, I know I’m not ready for.
She makes me smile when she walks into a room, and that’s concerning.
Because I don’t know how to react to that response. I don’t know how to react around her.
Hence why my shoulders currently feel stiff and the air in my lungs feels clogged as I catch a whiff of her perfume.
Pull it together, Turner.
“Congrats on your win Friday,” I say, running my eyes over Greer quickly.
Short denim shorts, frilly white tank top, brown high-heeled sandals, and her hair tied up into two buns on the top of her head.
Fuck, I want her.
Again.
“Thank you,” Greer says and turns toward me. “Arlo, I need to talk to you about Blair again, can we have a moment?”
“Sure,” I say, confused. Nothing should be going on with Blair. Her last paper was B- material and needed a little work, but nothing we need to talk about.
“Stella, let everyone know we’ll be right out.”
“Sure, but, you know, teachers get breaks, too.” She takes off down the hall, and Greer leads me to my office.
She shuts the door behind her and points to my desk. “Sit. Now.”
“Do you really think you’re about to take charge?” I ask.
“We’re not doing anything sexual, but I need you to sit and listen to me.”
Sighing, I walk over to my desk and sit on the edge while crossing my arms over my chest. “Make it quick. I don’t like keeping guests waiting.” And I can’t possibly be in here with her alone for too long. I don’t trust myself.
“Heavens to Betsy, we couldn’t have that,” Greer says, clutching her chest. She’s in rare form today.
“Taking the sarcastic approach today?”
“I suggest you watch what you say, Arlo. I’ve had time to think, and I’m itching to get it off my chest, and instead of walking away or pushing it to the side, I’m going to talk to you.”
Fuck . . .
“Okay, talk,” I say, trying to remain as casual as possible.
“Okay,” she says, shaking out her arms and pacing my office.
Fuck, she’s adorable. Angry and geared up to give me a piece of her mind.
“I’d like to start this out with a general statement.” She turns to face me, hands on her hips. “You’re really good at oral.”
I chuckle. “Thank you.”
“I mean . . . really good.”
“So far, I like how this conversation is proceeding.”
“And your ability to turn me on with just a push of your sleeves up your forearms is ridiculous.”
“Glad I can oblige.” I smirk.
“But . . .” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I’m not the type of girl who just . . . messes around. Nor do half the things you’ve made me do these last couple of weeks.”
“I haven’t made you do anything. You went into it willingly.”
“You know what I mean,” she says, sounding exasperated. “You’re all kinds of tempting, and it scares me a little. I have a job to worry about here. You know first-year teachers are on probation and they have to prove themselves at Forest Heights. Any misstep could ruin this opportunity for me. And this is one hell of an opportunity.”