Teacher I Want To Date

by Kayla, Mia

  “See?” His eyebrows lifted. “I’m trying to change, trying to be less neurotic and overprotective.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Plus, it helps when you can fit Jesus in between them. They’re fine.”

  I tilted my head and took in the dancing pair. He was right. The space between Sarah and Liam was so vast that you could literally fit another person between them, which was most likely because they knew Mason was watching them.

  He pulled me in, placing one hand on my hip and one on my shoulder. “Can I have this dance, Wicked Witch of My Heart?”

  I debated it for a hot second. How would it look—Sarah’s uncle dancing with her teacher? When I searched the room for observant eyes, I saw none. And if this was the last dance that I could have with my real-life Prince Charming for the rest of my life, I’d take it.

  “Okay, Prince Charming.” I pushed down the ache that threatened to take me under. “Since this is the only dance that you can do, I’ll have to give it to you,” I said as we started swaying to the music.

  He flinched. “You’re hurting my ego here, Gabby. My salsa was getting better, right?”

  He pushed out his lip, playing for hurt, and all of me wanted to bite it.

  Maroon Five was blasting in the background, and the soulful voice of Adam Levine echoed through the speakers.

  There were so many things left unsaid, but what was the point now that we were done? There was nothing that could be said to make the hurt go away.

  When I met Mason’s gaze, there was an intensity in his stare that was so soul-searing that I had to look away.

  With the gentleness of his fingertips, he moved my chin until I was directly in his line of sight. “Don’t. I can’t see what you’re thinking if you look away.”

  His closeness made my senses spin and when he placed his palm on my cheek, warmth spread everywhere.

  “I’m thinking, this hurts too much, so I’m not sure why I’m dancing with you, putting myself through this torture.”

  After a long exhale, he said, “Then stop. Stop putting us through this.”

  The song ended just in time, and I pulled his hand from my cheek and walked toward my side of the room—not looking back, but feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

  “You’re both being stubborn.” Sarah sidled up beside me, leaning against the wall by the snacks. “No offense or anything like that.”

  I pulled at the cluster of orange and black balloons to my left, arranging them in front of me.

  Sarah reached for the balloons and moved them to her side. “You know he can still see you.”

  I sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But of course, she knew. She was wise beyond her years. I swallowed hard. “It’s for the best anyway. I shouldn’t be dating my student’s uncle.”

  “I thought that before.” Sarah’s eyes moved to the other side of the room, where her uncle chatted up some parents. “That was before I saw him over the last week—so unhappy. He talks to me, really talks to me about what’s bothering him and life, and seeing him at his lowest point, I couldn’t be mad at him forever. Because he needed me.” Her fingers played with the strings of the balloons. “And because I love him.”

  Her stare moved from me to her uncle. “I don’t care what others think anymore, what they say, what they will say …” Her voice quieted to a hush, and she met my stare. “He was with someone for a long time, and my whole family could see that they weren’t perfect for each other. She just wasn’t a nice person, Miss Cruz. He was never happy with her. I see the difference now, and I just want him to be happy. And you, Miss Cruz, you do that.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’ve loosened him up where he doesn’t sweat the small stuff anymore. He’s different with you. He’s less serious. He laughs more. He’s just a better version of himself when he’s with you.” She paused, and then her words came out slower, firmer. “So, you need to get back together.”

  I swallowed the lump that formed in the back of my throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  She placed a tender hand on my arm, her demeanor older, mature. “Or maybe it’s not. Maybe whatever is going on between you guys, you need to just work it out.”

  As I watched her stroll to the other side of the room to join her friends, a thought passed through. The maturity level of that young adult is astounding.

  * * *

  At the end of the night, after the volunteers and some students cleaned up and left, I was alone in an empty gym, locking up. Mason had briefly said good-bye and then driven Sarah and her friends home.

  Prior to working at this school, Preston Elite Academy, I’d had a bunch of shitty temp jobs. This was my first real teaching position with benefits and pay that allowed me to help my family. I’d worked hard to get to this point, and I was never leaving. I loved this school and this faculty and the never-ending opportunities for advancement that it brought.

  But after Sarah went off to high school, Mary would still be here. With her still at this school, I knew I would run into Mason from time to time. The annual school concert, the fall fest, the Christmas giving event.

  I contemplated, Should I move from a place that I love?

  No.

  That would be running away, and this job—besides my immediate family—had become my sanctity, my happiness.

  I sighed and surveyed the room one more time, shut off the lights, and stepped out into the chilly fall night. Then, I staggered to a stop right before reaching my car because right next to my car was a carriage with two horses. And standing right by the carriage was none other than Mason Brisken.

  I laughed out loud because who wouldn’t, seeing two horses in a school parking lot?

  “What are you doing here? I thought you took the girls home.”

  “I worked something out with Macy’s mom.”

  I shook my head in awe. This man was relentless, but I had known that already.

  I motioned toward the two horses and the horseman sitting on the front seat, holding the reins. “And what is this?”

  He shrugged, proudly lifted his chin, and grinned. “I’m Prince Charming. It’s not midnight yet, so I wanted to pretend to live in my fairy tale just a little while longer.” He reached for my hand and pulled me to the side of the carriage, right by the carriage step. “Can we pretend, just for a little bit?” His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, his eyes unshielded, his vulnerability on display.

  That ache in my chest throbbed. He was making it hard for me to do the right thing, to stay away from him. And I was losing my resolve. But my mother’s words played loudly in my head …

  “You need to let go of all your fears, so you can give yourself completely to someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. And that person … that someone who loves you unconditionally is Mason.”

  Am I doing the right thing?

  “Mason …”

  “Just give me an hour.” He tipped his chin to the opening of the carriage. “Plus, that’s all the time it’s rented for. After that hour, they’ll start charging me by the minute.”

  An hour? I chewed my lip for a moment and sighed openly. Sure, I could give him an hour.

  I shook my head, amused, and then proceeded to climb the step up into the carriage.

  Mason hopped in right behind me. “Oh, and he can only go down certain streets. Safety hazard and license issues.”

  “I was going to say”—I chuckled—“I’ve never seen a horse and carriage in the ’burbs.”

  He nodded and then turned sheepish. “I had to get them here. A beautiful witch needs a carriage. You know what else she needs?” He pointed to himself with a cheesy smile. “Ahem, ahem.”

  I laughed, but my chest hurt. Of course he had to be not only cute, but funny in his own way too.

  The horses clip-clopped along the parking lot, their hooves loud and heavy against the blacktop. The moonlight shone brightly overhead.

  He smelled divine
; it was his signature aftershave, an expensive brand he’d mentioned before because I’d asked, but I couldn’t recall the name. The scent of him had me leaning closer.

  “You know … I never did have a girlfriend in grade school,” he said reflectively.

  I peered behind me, at the school I’d been teaching at for the last several years. “At that age, it’s not really serious. It’s all kinda immature. The I like you, but you don’t like me. They’re so young at that age; they don’t know about committed relationships.”

  “Did you date someone in grade school?” he asked.

  I thought back to my childhood, and nostalgia hit me in the chest. “Quite a few young men actually.” A low laugh escaped. “I was boy crazy at that age.”

  I pulled in my coat closer to my chest, feeling the fall night air chill through me.

  He pulled out a bag from the middle console of the carriage. He took out a box of cookies and placed it on my lap. “I brought snacks.”

  Le sigh. A man after my own heart.

  I undid the ribbon and opened the box. I plucked one gooey chocolate chip cookie out, took a bite, and sighed. “Oh, gosh, Mason, I love you,” I said, my mouth full of cookie. The words had simply slipped out, and the moment it did, my ears warmed.

  His fingers brushed against my cheek and then down my arm as though he couldn’t help but touch me. “I know.” He stared out into the parking lot and to the playground where the kids had recess and back to meet my eyes. “I had my first girlfriend in high school …” His voice became distant, softer. “We dated for three years until I moved away to college. Then, I met Janice, and we were together for years. My brothers call me a serial monogamist, and I think it’s true.” He reached for the cookie box and placed it on the floor. “I want one girl forever. To me, you date to find that one.” He took my hands in his, and our knees touched. The nearness of him sent a jolt of warmth to rush throughout my body. “But there’s no reason for me to date anymore because I’ve found her. My forever girl is you.”

  I melted into his deep brown eyes, and my mother’s words rang louder and truer in my head.

  “You think you made the right decision, the braver decision, right?

  “The brave choice is trusting again, is loving again when you’ve been hurt before, and letting go of the insecurities of your past.”

  My mouth felt dry, and my heartbeat pounded louder in my chest. In that moment, with my hands within his, my eyes locked on his, the scent of him infiltrating my senses, my mother’s words never rang truer.

  “What are we doing?” More so, what am I doing?

  He laughed. “This was your decision.” His thumbs caressed the top of my fists. “I love you. You love me. And the reason that’s keeping us apart is the stupidest reason I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice lost in my thoughts.

  He smiled and searched my face. “You’re scared. I get it.”

  And I was. I was scared shitless to repeat the past, break a family up, but that was hella stupid because Mason was right; he wasn’t my father. I knew in my heart that Mason would be a good dad, the best, no matter what the circumstances were.

  And my mother was right too. Who was to say that Janice and Mason would be happy, simply together because they shared a kid?

  My chin trembled, and I dropped my gaze. I wanted to do the right thing. I knew in my gut that I’d done the right thing by leaving Mike. But with Mike, I’d felt at ease with my decision. And with Mason, everything hurt—my heart, my head from thinking too much, and my eyes from the endless tears I’d cried.

  I exhaled a long and heavy breath, and with that breath came the tiredness of fighting us for so long.

  “You’re scared of things that haven’t even happened,” he said softly, caressing my face.

  I didn’t even know I’d started crying.

  Drowning in the intensity of his gaze, I could see his truth, see his selflessness.

  “What do you say, be my evil witch?” His smile was hopeful, his eyes shining.

  I knew Mason would do what he needed to do for his child, for me, for us, for this relationship. A feeling of breathlessness filled my insides, and a heat bloomed in my chest. I trusted him fully and completely, and with that trust came a little bit of blind faith, faith that everything would be okay.

  I was done torturing myself and trying to play Mother Teresa when I was far from it, so I closed the gap between us and met his lips. And with that kiss, my heart bloomed and pounded and thrashed in my chest. “Yes,” I breathed. “Baby or no baby, you’re mine, Mason, and I’m yours.”

  I felt him smile against my lips.

  “Yours,” he repeated.

  My pain and fear receded, and I was filled with an overwhelming lightness in my limbs, which only confirmed this, us, was the right decision.

  “Yours,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer, feeling my whole body relax into him. Because how could something that felt so right possibly be wrong?

  Our kisses deepened until he said, “Plus … the baby might not even be mine.”

  I reeled back and placed my fingers on his lips. “Wait, what?”

  A loud sigh escaped him, and he pulled down my hand from his face. “I went to see her today to discuss some logistics, and I met this guy who Janice had been dating for the last three months.”

  “So, she’s not pregnant?”

  “She is.” He cringed, his gaze dropping to our intertwined fingers.

  “But it’s not yours?”

  He frowned, and then his deep brown eyes met mine. “I don’t know if it is or it isn’t. If it is, I’ll do the responsible thing.” He leaned in closer, so close that I could almost taste the mint on his lips. “But are you going to wait around and see if it’s my kid? That could take months. Think about it, Gabby.”

  I smiled because he was still fighting for me even though I’d already made my decision.

  “I will love you until I can’t physically love you anymore. All I want is for you to give me a chance, allow me to be the Prince Charming that you deserve.”

  I leaned in and tugged at his ears until he yelped. “Didn’t you hear me?” I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer. “If it’s your baby, I will love him or her because they are a part of you. Whatever the future holds, I pick you. I pick you today. I pick you tomorrow. I pick you forever.” With another kiss, I sealed our fate.

  And the witch and her Prince Charming lived happily forever after.

  Epilogue

  Mason

  “Keep those eyes closed.”

  “Mason, you have me blindfolded.”

  I laughed because I did, but it had taken months to plan this event, and there was no way Gabby was going to find out what I was up to for her birthday.

  After stepping out of the car, I took in our surroundings and was brought back to our very first date at the salsa club. Nostalgia hit me directly in the face. A lot could happen in eleven months. A lot had happened since then—news that I was not the father to Janice’s child, getting to know Gabby more, Sarah starting high school, the meshing of our families.

  So, it was only appropriate to celebrate her first birthday with me in the grandest way possible—with the people she loved, doing what she loved—dancing.

  I walked to her passenger door, and when I opened it, her hands were clenched together on her bouncing knees. She looked exquisite today, hair half-up, sexy as hell in a skintight black dress that showcased a lot of leg.

  “What are you up to now?” She bit her bottom lip, and I had an undeniable urge to bite it too.

  “Just let me surprise you, okay? Let me do this.”

  She hated surprises. In that way, we were similar.

  After I reached for her hand, I pulled us to the entrance of the club. My knees shook, and my fingers trembled. “Gabby …”

  The corner of her lips pulled up in a sweet smile, and all I’d done was said her na
me.

  “One of the greatest days of my life was the day you were born.”

  She pinched my side. “Cheeseball.”

  I was. There was no denying Gabby brought the cheese out of me.

  “I just hope you enjoy this day because it’s one of my favorite days of the year.”

  Without giving her a chance to respond, I opened the door and pulled us both in.

  The live band on the stage began to play “Feliz Cumpleanos,” and she didn’t wait for me to take off her blindfold; she immediately ripped it off.

  Her hands flew to her mouth, her gaze taking in her massive family and my tiny one, all in one room, and the red-and-white banner that said Happy Birthday, Gabby, that hung over the live band on the stage.

  Then, her stare made it my way, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, jumping up and down. “Mason. This is nuts! Thank you.”

  “Surprised?” I kissed her button nose and wrapped my arms around her waist.

  “More than surprised.” She beamed.

  Gabby made her way around the room, saying hello to everyone with a hug or a kiss on the cheek.

  I followed right behind her and greeted every family member as well.

  It was overwhelming at first, coming from my small family of seven to her huge, extended family of over forty. But I loved it now.

  “Mijo.” Abuela moved through the crowd, and I bent down to meet her frame, where she patted my cheek twice. “You’re a good man, mijo.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Church Sunday.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  It was important to Gabby that Abuela was happy, and it was important to me that Gabby was happy. It was an hour a week. At first, I’d thought of the lack in efficiency in that hour of sitting at mass, about what else I could be doing, but more and more, I’d found it to be a good, relaxing time. And in those moments, I thought of my parents. We’d been brought up and raised Catholic, going to church every Sunday. When we’d gotten older and they’d passed away, all of that had ceased.

  I made our way to the other side of the room where Brad was congregated with Gabby’s cousins.