The gunshot ricocheted through the track, signaling go time—and I was off.
Quick as a flash, I was up and sprinting toward the first jump while keeping count in my mind, knowing that was essential for this race.
One, two, three—jump. First one down.
Thundering toward the next, I felt confident. I knew how easy I made this seem.
One, two three—jump. Second one down.
Yes! This was what I lived for. I could feel the air hitting my cheeks as I powered on.
One, two, three—jump. Third one down, and I was making this bitch mine.
Nothing felt this good or made me feel so free. As I leaped over the next four, I realized I was over halfway through and by my estimation, nine seconds down the track.
One, two, three—jump. Eight down, two to go.
I loved the feeling of the air rushing in and out, fueling my body as my limbs strived for perfection.
One, two, three—jump. Nine was done, and I had one more.
One more, and I would be the winner. One more, and I would be the best. One more, and…one, two, three—jump.
Ten! I was done!
As I slowed my run to a jog and placed my hands on my hips, I pivoted toward the bleachers. There was my mother, perfecting the act of good parenting by standing and clapping. I gave a brisk wave and then I saw him step to the side and knew he’d done it so he could see me.
The announcer came over the loudspeaker confirming what I already knew. “The winner...lane four...Addison Lancaster, with a personal best of fifteen seconds.”
Yes. I had run my personal best, and now I wanted my prize.
She’d been magnificent. Like a cheetah sprinting into action, Addison had taken off at the starting gun and in fifteen seconds, had torn up the track as if her life depended on it.
I had forgotten all about the photos and was unable to resist getting to my feet when everyone else did. The crowd began chanting her name because she was unbelievable. It was clear she was the star of the school and when she finished that race, it was obvious why.
Her mother looked around proudly as Addison crossed the finish line, and when she spotted me, checked me out before jumping to her feet, clapping and waving.
That had been the minute I realized I needed to leave.
I was looking at Addison, and her mother was looking at me. What I was thinking, it was wrong. It was a violation on all levels, and just being there and imagining Addison in such a way made me feel…guilty.
As soon as I was able to get around everyone, I moved out onto the steps with my eyes still on the winner at the end of the track. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Brandon and Sam caught my eye and waved at me.
“Pretty fucking amazing, isn’t she?”
I couldn’t bring myself to disagree, so I just nodded before making my way into the school.
It was just turning five thirty and I figured I might as well get the class’s papers to take home and grade. I needed a distraction to take my mind off its current fixation.
Entering my classroom, I collected up the papers, switched the light back off and made my way out into the hall. I was halfway to the exit when Addison came around the corner and stopped.
I knew that she’d come for me, and if I hadn’t been sure, the look her face clued me in real fucking fast.
“Congratulations on your win,” I told her, determined not to let her unnerve me. I was the adult here, not her. I just had to remember that and act like one.
Walking toward her, I was happy to see she had at least added her sports jacket back to the ensemble. Unfortunately, she’d left off the track pants and was still only wearing those short fucking shorts.
“Thanks. I was surprised to see you in the stands.” She paused as she walked closer. “Did you come to see me?”
I brought the papers up against my chest and held them there. It was a pathetic excuse for a shield, but anything was better than nothing.
“I didn’t come to see you specifically, no. I came to take photographs of the event and support the school.”
“But now you’re leaving after only one race?”
Refusing to let her walk all over me, I nodded. “Well, I remembered I had papers to grade.”
With a knowing look, she bit her bottom lip, and when her top teeth sunk into the pillowy flesh, my cock came to rigid attention.
“Or maybe you already saw what you wanted to see?”
“Addison.”
“Yes?”
“I have told you before, this isn’t going to happen.”
“No? What if you don’t touch? There’s nothing wrong with…watching, is there?”
My mind raced with the possibilities. She brushed past me so our shoulders met, and I could smell the sweet, sugary body spray she must have used after her race.
She smelled sinful.
I turned as she looked over her shoulder at me and walked into my…no, our history classroom.
Closing my eyes, I counted backwards from ten.
This was a bad idea. A really fucking bad idea, but as I made my way back to the classroom door, I knew that I was about to bite the apple.
Chapter Seven
The minute he stepped into the room, I knew I had him. He quietly shut and locked the door before walking over behind his desk.
I’d chosen to sit in the first row, middle seat, as opposed to my usual because from here he’d be able to see and hear me that much better.
One, two, three.
He placed the papers down, then pushed all ten of his fingers on the wooden surface so hard they turned white.
“Doesn’t your mother need to know where you are?” he asked, and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth.
“I told her I was waiting on Brandon so we could all go out and celebrate.”
Pinning me with an annoyed frown, he accused, “So you lied?”
“Maybe a little. Would you prefer me to call and tell her what I’m really doing?”
He rubbed two of his fingers up the center of his forehead, appearing stressed. “Addison, this cannot happen.”
Now things were getting interesting.
One, two three.
“You keep saying that. What exactly is it that can’t happen?”
I couldn’t help the thrill I got at his discomfort.
“You know what I’m talking about. Stop acting naive. It doesn’t suit you.”
I raised a brow and laughed at the blunt way he called me out. “Okay.”
“You have to stop coming on to me. Do you understand how much trouble we would be in if—”
“If?” I pushed when he stopped talking and started shaking his head.
“I’m not allowed to touch you, so stop inviting me to.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
Unflinchingly, he replied, “You know that it is.”
“Why don’t you sit down?”
“Because I plan to leave.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure you locked the door.”
“Addison,” he said, not in warning this time but more in resignation.
“What’s your first name?”
“Oh no,” he drawled, and for the first time since we’d met, he laughed, and the sound tickled its way up my spine. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Well, I can find out by searching the school’s web page at home.”
One, two, three.
“Then why haven’t you?”
Trying for nonchalant, I shrugged. “I wanted you to tell me.”
“Why?” he asked, just as I knew he would.