Getting Schooled

by Parker, Ali

Emelia batted her lashes at me and shimmied closer. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

  “I don’t know if I am. It just feels right. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  I leaned in for a kiss. Her lips tasted like strawberries and her tongue like pineapples. Glorious.

  When I pulled away, she sighed and rolled back onto her back to gaze lazily up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to go back to reality. Can’t we do this every day?”

  I chuckled. “In a dream world, sure.”

  She raked her fingers through her hair. It was a little thick and tangled from our adventures in the sheets. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Of course. I think we’re past the whole, ‘asking permission to ask something personal’ stage, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t know. Are we?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Ask whatever you want.”

  She licked her lips and hesitated. Then, after a beat, she cocked her head to the side to regard me. “Have you ever wanted to have more children? Or do you wish you already had more?”

  “To be honest?”

  Her expression tightened, and she nodded, leaning toward me. “Yes?”

  “Sometimes. I mean, it’s not like I feel like I missed out, because if I already had more children, it would have been with Gwen, and that would have only been one more child for her to abandon. But yeah, at the end of the day, I always saw myself as a father with a big family. Three or four kids. A wife. A dog somewhere down the line.”

  “A dog, huh?”

  “Yep. A mixed breed of some sort. A spontaneous decision. I always used to think about picking Pax up from school one day, driving him to the pound, and picking up a puppy.”

  “That’s a fun thing to think about,” she said softly. “Linden has wanted a dog since he was two.”

  “Pax has never asked for one.”

  “Really? That surprises me. Kids are always asking for some kind of pet or another.”

  “Not Pax. Not even once.”

  Emelia frowned and sat back up, pulling the blankets up with her. “That’s odd. You know, I bet he’d benefit from having a dog. A companion that can pass no judgement. A support animal. It might help him with his confidence. Like having a built-in best friend who can go everywhere with you, play with you, listen to your secrets.”

  “Huh.” I’d never thought about it like that. Any time the idea of a dog entered my mind, I liked the initial phases: picking up the dog, buying all his supplies, playing with him. But those thoughts quickly turned to the reality thoughts, like picking up his shit and how much it would cost to feed him and how much energy it would take to train him.

  There was nothing worse than a poorly trained dog.

  I couldn’t fathom how some families could bear the endless barking or complete disobedience. If my dog couldn’t obey basic commands like sit, stay, or come, I’d blow a fuse.

  Emelia nudged my shoulder with hers. “You should think about it. I think it could be good for Paxton.”

  “I will.”

  Emelia leaned toward the fruit bowl and sat back with a watermelon wedge. She looked around my room, at the eggshell-white walls, the white furniture, the white curtains. Then she frowned at me. “Gwen decorated this, didn’t she?”

  “How the hell can you tell that?”

  She smiled. “Well, it doesn’t exactly scream ‘Jace’.”

  I scratched my jaw and looked around the room. I supposed she was right. My style wasn’t this bright and airy. Gwen had been all about light color palettes with no color so she could add her “pops of seasonal” color when she wanted to. Our light gray bedding had yellow and purple pillows in the spring, turquoise and pink in the summer, red and burnt orange in the fall, and red, green, and gold at Christmastime.

  To say I didn’t give a shit about that kind of thing was an understatement.

  “Gwen was the decorator of the two of us for sure,” I admitted.

  “Why haven’t you changed it? You could paint. Make it more you. A bedroom should be a sanctuary. It shouldn’t remind you of your ex.”

  “I guess I haven’t had the time.” That was true. My time was spent with Pax or at work, or grading papers in the evenings and working on my lesson plans. Painting my bedroom and erasing Gwen’s footprint just didn’t seem like a priority.

  “What color do you think would look nice?” Emelia asked, crossing one leg over the other and letting her dangling foot bounce.

  “I have no clue.”

  She lolled her head toward me and peered up at me from beneath her eyebrows. “You can do better than that. Think about it for a minute. Do you like the light furniture?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  “Then what about a darker color? Like a navy blue?”

  I tried to picture what that might look like. I supposed it would look pretty good with the thick white trims around the window, doors, and closet. All the white furniture would go nicely, too. “That could work.”

  “Don’t agree to ‘could work’. You’d have to like it.”

  “I like it.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, a challenge in her tone.

  I nodded. “I’m sure. Navy or red. I like red.”

  “Navy would be more soothing. That’s just my opinion.”

  “Navy it is.”

  “I could help you paint.”

  “Let’s be real.” I chuckled, rolling toward her. “If we tried to paint together, we’d end up painting each other. Naked.”

  She laughed. “Perhaps.”

  “We could take another sick day from work and spend the day here. Painting. Eating. Fucking. You know. Making the most of it.”

  She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. “Are you trying to get me fired, Mr. Reynolds?”

  “God no,” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  I smirked. “If I got you fired, who would I have my lunches with?”

  “Your students.”

  “They’re not nearly as good of a conversationalist as you.”

  “Conversationalist? Is that why you like me so much? Or is it other things you like?”

  I shifted closer to her to rest a hand on her hip. “You tell me.”

  She ran her hand up her side and pushed the covers down, exposing her nakedness. She dragged her finger up over her hip, over my hand, and over her ribs. Her skin gave way to goosebumps, and her nipples hardened. “Do you prefer conversation over this?”

  I swallowed. “This feels like a trap.”

  Her eyes glittered with mischief. “No trap.”

  “Liar.”

  A smile curled her lips. “I’m not lying. I just want to make the most of the time we have left.”

  So did I. Her body whispered sweet nothings to me. Her soft, supple skin, full lips, mane of wild bedhead, pink painted toes. All of her was a challenge to resist. And the way she was touching herself and running her fingers over her breasts had me flustered.

  But only for a second.

  When I pulled her to me, everything but the warm press of her lips on mine faded away.

  Chapter 24

  Emelia

  The last two weeks had been nothing short of wonderful.

  Jace and I shared exhilarating moments where we could, which wasn’t often, and stole what time was possible together. We hadn’t been lucky enough to create another afternoon like the one a couple weeks ago where we did nothing but spend the entire day in his bed, but that was okay.

  We connected in other ways.

  Our lunch hours at work were spent sitting nearly shoulder to shoulder, ignoring the curious looks from other teachers. John warned us that we were no longer flying under the radar, and Jace retorted with a snappy, “Does it look like we’re trying to fly under the radar anymore?”

  Ever since that comment two days ago, I’d come to a realization: even though we both said we wanted to take this slow and keep it casual,
that wasn’t how it was going.

  Not even close.

  I was falling for this man, hook, line, and sinker. My soul lit up when he walked into a room. My heart swelled, my vision tunneled onto him, and the worst of days was suddenly bright. He made me feel like I was walking on clouds, and I didn’t want to give that up.

  As I sat in my classroom on Tuesday afternoon, musing over my present situation with Jace, I started thinking about Linden.

  I wanted the two of them to spend time together with Jace as my boyfriend. But there were complications there because Jace wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was also Linden’s father. And letting them spend time together would make me feel like a villain.

  How could I have them in the same room while keeping this huge secret from them both?

  What would that say about me?

  I knew perfectly well what it would say.

  That I was an untrustworthy, manipulative, self-serving person with no regard for others. Including my son.

  I rubbed at my temples and rested my elbows on my desk. There had to be a solution to my predicament. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jace would be a good influence in Linden’s life. And what was more, I knew Linden would be good for Paxton. But knowing these things didn’t make proceeding any easier.

  When should I tell Jace about Linden?

  Now? Before things got too serious?

  What were the ramifications of that?

  If I told Jace now, it would put a lot of pressure on this unlabeled relationship of ours—assuming he forgave me for keeping it from him for all this time. Saying he did and saying we decided to stay together, I was worried everything would change. How could it not? How could we proceed and still keep things the same once that information was out in the open?

  It would change things.

  It would change everything.

  And I was terrified that Jace would feel obligated to be with me, rather than simply want to be with me, and this thing between us would become less about passion and love and joy and more about responsibility and parenthood. We were still too early on in the stages for us to fall into that pattern. In the long term, it wouldn’t be good. And it would be confusing for Linden and Paxton.

  I couldn’t do that.

  If I held on to the truth a little longer and let Linden and Jace form a relationship, things might be smoother. For starters, it would be less jarring for my son. That was my top priority.

  And secondly, I would know if Jace and I had a shot at a real future. If we did, then I would tell him the truth. It was the only version of this that made the risk worth taking. With a bit more time, we might be in a place to work through things and not jeopardize the kids.

  Of course, there was a very small margin for success. Very small. There was a good chance Jace would turn his back on me altogether and he’d hate me for all the dishonesty. For keeping his son from him.

  For falling for him and letting him fall for me and still not coming clean.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. “What a mess.”

  There was no simple solution. No easy direction. No path with a bright and guaranteed outcome.

  Every option was dark and muddy and full of compromises.

  I pushed myself back in my chair. It squeaked, and I glanced at the clock above the whiteboard on the opposite wall. School had been out for over forty-five minutes. Linden was at his afterschool care, and I was set to pick him up in twenty-five minutes.

  With a heavy heart, I grabbed my purse from under my desk, slung it over my shoulder, and left the classroom to make my way down the main hall.

  I considered walking right past Jace’s classroom. Surely, he’d sense the turmoil raging inside me just by looking at me. But there was no way I could keep walking past his open door without taking a peek to see if he was there.

  He was.

  Jace sat at his desk, leaned over papers, a pen poised in his hand as he scanned the pages. He was focused with a creased brow, tense jaw, and rigid posture.

  I knocked on the doorframe. “Hey.”

  He looked up. The furrow left his brow when he smiled. “Hey, you. I thought you’d gone home.”

  I moved into the classroom and shook my head. “No. I had a bit of work to do. You too?”

  He pushed away from the desk, stood, and came to stand in front of it. “Speeches. I’m reviewing the ones that have already been given to mark them on the content. I still have more to hear throughout the week.”

  “Speeches. Fun.”

  “You weren’t a fan back in the day, huh?”

  I scowled. “Define ‘back in the day’.”

  He snorted. “You’re young as ever.”

  I smiled. “You’re right. I hated speeches. Too much pressure. Too much attention. I hated all of it.”

  “Fair.”

  I bit my bottom lip and swayed from side to side. “So, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  He frowned and leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I said hurriedly. “I just… I wanted to talk to you about Paxton and Linden.”

  He nodded for me to proceed.

  “I know I said we should keep our distance. And at the time, I thought that was the right call. But with how things have been going the last couple of weeks, I think maybe we should re-evaluate.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, and I suspected Jace was hiding a smile. “I’m listening.”

  “I think the four of us should spend some time together.”

  He uncrossed his arms. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I ran my fingers along the edge of a student’s desk. There was graffiti on it, a heart with the initials JM and KP carved inside it. The art was crude. I wondered if the young lovebirds were still together. “Maybe this week. Friday?”

  “Friday it is.”

  “Just like that?”

  Jace chuckled. “Just like that. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready. I think Paxton needs this.”

  “So do I.”

  Jace reached for me. I stepped toward him, and he took my hand. “So, it’s settled. A family date night on Friday. Did you have something in mind that you wanted to do?”

  “A game night? Keep it low key for Paxton. Maybe do it at your house so he’s comfortable and there’s less pressure. We could order pizza, too. Make a whole evening out of it.”

  Jace stroked his jaw. “This sounds fun.”

  “You’re sure? I don’t want to push if it’s too early. We can hold off. I just—”

  He took me by my shoulders. “Emelia, it’s a great idea. We’re ready. And so are the boys. We’re not rushing in too fast. I want this. Do you want this?”

  I searched his eyes. I could have gotten lost in their green depths, so rich and deep they were like a wilderness all on their own. “Yes. I want this.”

  “Then we’re on. I’ll go home and tell Paxton tonight so he has time to wrap his head around it.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Only trouble is we don’t own a ton of games.”

  “Can we borrow some from the school library at the end of the day on Friday?”

  “I can’t see why not. Quick thinking.”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Why thank you.”

  Jace let his hand fall from my shoulder and moved his other one up to caress my cheek. “I hate to banish you from the classroom, but I have to get through these speeches before I pick Paxton up. Can we steal some alone time for ourselves this week? Maybe sneak out of here at lunch? Or coordinate our free blocks?”

  “We’ll make something work.” I leaned into his touch. His palm was warm.

  “That’s what I want to hear.”

  My eyes closed when he leaned in and stole a soft kiss. We cut it short, worried someone might walk in on us, and I told him I’d see him in the morning.

  I paused briefly in the doorway to look back at him. He’d settled back into his chair and pulled the speech back toward
him. He was leaning over it, eyes scanning the page, and I took a mental picture. Then he looked up and gave me a sheepish smile. “What?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Good luck.”

  A smile lingered on my lips as I walked from the school to pick up Linden. Even though my gut was still in perpetual turmoil with all this deception, I was still overjoyed with where things were between Jace and me.

  I adored him.

  Adored might have been the wrong word. A stronger, shorter word might have been more accurate. But even thinking that way scared me.

  Because there was still a very good chance I would lose Jace when the truth came to light.

  I gazed down the sidewalk as I walked. Linden’s school came into view.

  “You won’t lose him,” I said to myself.

  That wasn’t the way this would end. We’d come back together as if by fate after being separated by life for six years. There was no way it would end just like that. And Jace would want to be part of Linden’s life.

  I told myself that last part over and over as I approached the school.

  He’s a good father. And a good man. He’ll want to be in Linden’s life.

  And if he was in Linden’s life? Well, that meant he was in mine, too.

  Chapter 25

  Jace

  “What are you doing?”

  I glanced up from where I was bent over the sofa with my mini vacuum in one hand and a bottle of air freshener in the other. Paxton was standing in the entrance to the living room, a curious look on his face and his hair a wild mess. He’d just woken up from a late afternoon nap and was still in his pajamas, which were navy blue with neon green and yellow space rockets on them.

  “I’m cleaning,” I said.

  Paxton came around to my side of the sofa and watched as I vacuumed the pillows. Once the sofa was clean, I gave it a couple sprays of linen-scented air freshener.

  “What are you spraying it for?”

  “To make it smell nice,” I said.

  “Why?”

  I grappled with the right way to explain this without giving him too much information. “Well, I want it to smell and feel nice in here for Emelia and Linden tonight.”