What an asshole.
Nathan launched into this week’s focus, his eyes gliding over his students but not really looking at them. As he moved across the room, to the white board and to his desk as he spoke, I noticed something was missing from the week before.
The tension that had tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced with a relaxation that he wore all over his body. His eyes didn’t move to my direction once, avoiding my gaze like he avoided my email. But he remained completely at ease in his body language.
When he instructed us to read a passage from this week’s required reading, Jane Eyre, he sank back into his seat and focused on his paperwork.
I discretely pulled out my phone and opened up my email application. After darting a glance at him to make sure he wasn’t paying attention, I fired off a quick email.
From: Adele Morello
Date: Monday, September 21, 2015 01:29 PM
Subject: Friday
To: Nathaniel Easton
Did you receive my email I sent late Friday? I didn’t receive a reply, so I’m worried you missed it.
Adele Morello
• • •
Smiling to myself, I tucked my phone away and focused on the chapter.
Several pages in, I felt eyes on me. I looked up, met Nathan’s gaze. His face would have been expressionless were it not for the tightness around his eyes. I eased up from leaning over my book, keeping my eyes on his. His attention didn’t waver for a second, he was so solely focused on me.
I found myself glancing around the room, taking in the students who were completely focused on the book, before I allowed myself to meet his gaze again.
There was some kind of taut line of tension between us, and he communicated that completely with his eyes. They weren’t necessarily unkind, but he wasn’t exactly inviting me in with them either. But once I held them, I couldn’t look away.
His attention broke only when another student finished, and asked him a question on the text.
When class was over, Nathan exited the room like he was in a hurry for something. As I packed up my things, there was a heaviness in me from the look he’d given me, and I wondered what he was trying to tell me when he stared at me like that.
My phone buzzed, and I snatched it up from my bag. Incoming calclass="underline" Celeste.
My thumb hovered over the screen and I debated opening it. Curiosity won out and I slid my finger across “Answer” with a liquid kind of dread in my veins.
“Celeste.”
There was a pause before she spoke. “Mom and I are shopping and she wanted to talk to you.”
I ground my teeth together, bit out a “Fine,” before my mother’s breathy voice came over the line.
“Adele,” she said.
“Hi, Mom.” I looked around as the students cleared the room, took a deep breath and prepared myself.
“How are you, honey?”
“Fine. What are you shopping for?” I rubbed my temple, not caring what she was shopping for, but waiting for her to say what she needed to say.
“Some winter boots for you. What size are you?”
I let out a breath in a whoosh. Maybe that’s the only reason she was calling. “I’m okay, mom. I have last year’s boots still.”
“Don’t be silly. Let me buy you some boots.”
My mother wasn’t an affectionate person, not in the traditional way at least. She purchased her love for me, in the form of clothing, shoes, or a fat envelope stuffed with cash in the bottom of my purse after a visit with her. It was how she compensated for how completely incompetent she’d been while I was growing up. I wasn’t too proud to accept the cash, which often went toward rent or food, but I felt, in a way, like I was accepting that this was normal. That a mother wouldn’t love her daughter in the way she’d needed her to.
“Mom, it’s fine, really.”
“Well, what do you need?”
The hand rubbing my temple rubbed deeper. What I needed from her couldn’t be purchased. “I’m good.”
“Why don’t you come home this weekend? I’ll give you some cash. How much is your rent? Are you eating okay?”
I sighed, covering the phone so she couldn’t hear. This was what she wanted from me. To come home. No doubt to see dear old dad. “I’m pretty busy with classes and work.”
“Surely you can get someone to cover your shift at the restaurant—”
“Not a restaurant, mom. A coffee shop.” Celeste’s voice came through the line and I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what Celeste thought of my job. And my major. And my very existence.
“No, mom. We’re short-staffed.” A lie, but there was no reasoning with her unless I made it abundantly clear that I didn’t want to see anyone at home. “I’ll try to get a weekend off to come visit.” Another lie. Because I had no intentions of skipping a weekend’s worth of pay to spend time with people who I’d like to shank.
“Oh, that would be so nice. You know, we missed you on Saturday.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Celeste said you went to another party.”
Tell Celeste to go fuck herself, I thought. “How does Celeste know?”
“Facebook.” Celeste’s voice again. Damn, Leo. He probably tagged me in something from Saturday’s party. “Must have been really important to miss Dad’s birthday for.”
“I thought I was talking to mom?” I said, ignoring her statement.
“I’m here, honey. I have you on speaker phone.”
Of course. “Okay, well I have another class to get to,” I lied again.
“Your dad was really upset you didn’t come, Adele. He wouldn’t talk to anyone about it.” My mom’s voice was strained.
“I know it seems impossible, but you should try to stop thinking about yourself for just five minutes and remember your family.” I wanted to reach through the phone and smack the bullshit out of Celeste. But because I couldn’t, I simply pressed “End” on my phone and turned it off, marching out of the classroom and to the computer lab.
An hour later, armed with a printed piece of paper, I found myself in front of a large cape cod-style home. I didn’t hesitate walking up the driveway to the front steps. Determination made my eyes sharp, my tongue on fire. After the phone call from my mom and Celeste, I was feeling pretty raw, chastised by them both.
But I was a glutton for punishment, especially at Nathan’s hands. Which was why I found myself knocking on his front door in broad daylight.
Chapter Eleven
I wish I could say that when I opened the door and saw Adele that I was immediately angry at her showing up at my house. But that would be a horrific lie. My first gut reaction was a flare of lust so hot and so bright that I thought my skin might melt off the bone. Because the look in her eyes was so full of challenge, practically daring me to slam the door in her face. She’d probably have liked that, actually.
But the dance that we’d been dancing the last couple weeks was so far beyond what I could do right now. Not since I’d spent the last hour staring at an email from Elias, my brother-in-law, if you could call him that. The dick who was my dead wife’s brother who hadn’t shown his face in the good ol’ US of A since she died, now suddenly wanted free reign to go through her stuff. Yeah, that had put me in an awesome mood to begin with, so close to a tipping point of bad decisions.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, yanking her by the upper arm into the house. The last thing I needed was some nosy, ‘well-meaning’ neighbor noticing the tall, slender blonde who happened to be one of my students standing at my door. Besides, I didn’t put it past Adele to sit on the front porch for hours just to piss me off.