Seeing him in class on Monday and Wednesday wasn’t easy, either. I tried to focus on my laptop and not stare, but the sound of his voice was too hypnotic.
He was so pristine and put together; you’d never know what was hiding under his clothes. It was sad and enlightening all at the same time. It opened my eyes to why he acted the way he did in the bedroom. This was his secret. This was what he hid from the world.
And I saw it.
“I was going to see if you wanted to get some dinner after I got off work. John will be gone for the day, so I won’t have to work late.”
I placed my mug on the table and stretched my arms above my head. I was exhausted. Sleep had not been kind to me lately.
“Where did you want to go?”
“I was thinking that Mexican place, Diablo’s.”
I shrugged in agreement. “Sounds good to me.”
Mel smiled as she placed her mug down on the table before taking a seat across from me.
“Good. I want us to try and do something together at least once a week, like we used to. It’ll be nice hanging out again. We can go over all the things you’re learning in your classes, and I can help you if you need it.”
I gave her a small smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“How is everything going in your class, anyway?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I scoffed and shook my head. I knew this was coming. I only needed one guess to figure out which class she was asking about. This whole spiel was her trying to butter me up to get me to talk. She used the same tactic Mom used.
“Everything’s fine, Mom. Is it hard? Yes. But that’s to be expected. I never thought it would be easy.”
“You can still transfer to another teacher. You still have time.”
I shook my head again. I knew she was right. It was a smart idea, but it was an idea I didn’t want to contemplate. I should’ve, but I knew I wouldn’t. I was basically torturing myself, but I wanted to see him. I knew that if I took that step and transferred to a different class, I’d never be able to. That thought alone caused an ache in my chest.
He made it clear he didn’t want me, but my body still craved his. It shouldn’t, but my core had a mind of her own.
“I don’t want to transfer. I’ll be fine,” I reassured her as I reached across the table and placed my hand on hers. “He’s a great teacher. It’s those moments he’s not teaching I need to watch out for.” I smiled.
“I know I’ve been up your ass.” She sighed. “I’m just worried about you. After everything that happened with Tim, and now this.”
“I know, but I’m good. I promise.” It was a complete understatement, but I just wanted her to drop it. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”
She nodded. “You’re right. I have to get going anyway.” She stood from the table and grabbed her mug. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home. I’ll get changed, and then we can head out around six or so.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Mel transferred her coffee to her travel mug and walked to the foyer to pick up her satchel. “I’ll see you later,” she tossed over her shoulder before walking out the door.
Pushing my chair away from the table, I got up and walked to the sink to pour out what was left of my coffee. I needed to get my stuff together, too. It would be another day of trying my best to avoid staring at Mason.
~*~
“Good morning,” Brian said as he sat down beside me.
I turned to him with a smile. “Good morning.”
I arrived in class ten minutes early and Mason hadn’t shown up yet. Not that I was looking out for him or anything, which was a total lie.
“Are you excited about today?”
I finished typing some notes into my word document from the previous lecture then turned to him with a questioning look. “Excited about what?”
“Homicide,” he exaggerated.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a dork.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but I’m an awesome dork.”
I shook my head at his antics and looked back at my computer. The previous week, we’d gotten together after our classes to study at the local deli, and we really hit it off as friends. He hadn’t brought up the whole incident with Mason again, but I could tell he watched my expressions as I looked down on Mason in class.
Brian was a good guy. The type of guy I’d probably be in to if my body wasn’t still yearning for Mason.
And just as his name flowed through my mind, he walked into the room. My breath hitched as he strode to his desk with briefcase in hand. He was dressed in a grey suit, his hair a tousled mess, and his face donned the five o’clock shadow he never seemed to shave off. Not that I was complaining, because it was sexy as hell.
He stood behind his desk and set his briefcase down before lifting his head and meeting my gaze.
I pressed my lips together as my stomach did a flip. Every time he looked at me, it was as if my world was tilted on its axis. I could feel my ears flush and averted my eyes back to my computer.
“Homicide,” I heard Mason say, as the clicking of chalk on the board ensued.
I looked up to see the word written on the board. He set the chalk down and shoved his hands in his trousers.
“Homicide,” he stated again as he walked around the room. “When most people hear that word, it’s automatically assumed that someone killed another human being intentionally. But that’s not always the case.” He walked back toward the board and picked up the chalk. “Murder, manslaughter, and justifiable homicide,” he stated as he wrote the words on the board. “These are the classifications. Every state in the US has different types of homicide classifications, but it usually falls into these three categories.
“Murder is typically broken down further into two categories: First degree and second degree. First degree is the most serious of all homicide charges. It’s reserved for situations where the person accused of the homicide planned the killing and intended for the victim to die. It was intentional. The killer wanted that person dead, and they did it.
“Second degree is for cases where it can’t be proven that the killer planned the kill, but where the killer still intended that the victim die.
“Manslaughter. These charges usually arise from accidental circumstances where a person died because of an event. The crime was not planned, nor was it intended for the victim to die.
“And last we have justifiable homicide. This is when an individual killed another in self-defense or similar circumstances. Technically, this isn’t a legal charge, but rather a classification for which authorities can register that the individual died, but no crime was committed.”
I wrote note after note as he continued with his lecture, all the while noticing he didn’t once look at me again as he spoke. Actually, his gaze never went to the center of the room at all, as if he was purposely avoiding me. Which he probably was, but why? He was the one who told me to leave that day and hadn’t talked to me since. He was the one who treated me the way he did when all I wanted to do was help. He should’ve had no problem looking at me. He’s the one who didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
I was the one who should’ve been avoiding him at all costs. Instead, I was pining over why he wasn’t looking at me when I should’ve been focusing on the lesson.
“Are there any questions?” Mason asked as he leaned against the front of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest.
He looked around the room, avoiding my gaze, then nodded when nobody raised their hand.
“All right. On Wednesday, I’ll be bombarding you with questions to evaluate what you know. Make sure you review everything we’ve gone over. This is in no way to judge anyone. This is to help those who may not have known the answer. This is not a grade; however, participation is encouraged.”
He gave a small smile as he walked around his desk and took a seat. “Class is dismissed.”
A collective sound of conversations and students stuffing th
eir bags ensued as I pulled my things together.
“Did you want to meet up again after classes today?” Brian asked as he stood up from his seat.
I looked over at him and shook my head. “I’m having dinner with my sister tonight, but let’s shoot for Wednesday, okay?”
“Okay, sounds good.”
We both walked down the steps in silence. I did my best not to look over at Mason, but it was easier said than done. Our eyes locked for a brief moment before I quickly looked away.
I need to get these feelings under control before I regret not taking Mel’s advice on switching teachers.
Brian and I were making our way to the door when Mason’s voice halted my steps.
“Ms. Blake, may I speak with you for a moment?”
I looked at Brian, who had stopped alongside me, and he gave me a reassuring smile.
“I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said softly, looking over my shoulder at Mason before turning and walking out the door.
The last of the students had already departed, so it was just him and me. I turned to meet his gaze, and a feeling of apprehension flowed through me.
“Would you mind closing the door?” He gestured with his hand.
I crossed my arms over my chest in a sign of defiance. In my mind, I was trying to show that I had some kind of control. I highly doubted it worked, but I had to try.
“I’d rather keep it open.”
He smirked as he leaned against his desk, copying my stance by crossing his arms over his chest.
He averted his eyes and stared at his feet. It was an action I’d never seen him do, like he was shy and needed a moment to gather his thoughts. It confused me and threw me off-kilter for a moment. I wasn’t sure if that was what he’d intended, but it was working and I didn’t have time to play any games.
“You needed to speak to me?”
He looked up and unfolded his arms to rest his hands on the desk.
“Yes,” he said as he cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as he spoke. The other night. As if it was just another night. A night that will forever be imprinted in my mind. My overly active brain was no longer turning.
“There’s really nothing to say,” I finally managed to squeak out. “What happened between us was nothing. There’s no reason for you to explain anything to me. It happened, and now it’s done.”
I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks as I spoke.
He moved away from his desk and slowly walked toward me as I watched every step he took. I had so many feelings flowing through me that my heart was racing in my chest. I was excited and frightened all at the same time; excited that he was talking to me again, but also frightened that he was, too. I didn’t know how to feel about it. The only thing that kept looping in my mind was: what would Mel say?
He stopped a few feet away from me. Close enough where I could smell the cologne drifting off his skin. He took over my senses completely.
“I wanted to apologize to you, Emma. What you saw…” he said, furrowing his brow. “That should never have happened.”
I tilted my head to the side, curious as to what he meant. “Are you referring to your behavior or you cutting yourself?”
The words flew out of my mouth before I could censor them, and I averted my eyes from his before I could see his brow furrow more.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you’re right,” he said, cutting me off. “I know what you think you saw—”
I scoffed, interrupting him in return. “I know what I saw, but that’s not the point.” I shrugged, but none of it really mattered. “Look, I appreciate the apology,” I stated as I took a few steps back, “but I need to go.”
I turned and walked out of the room, and it took everything I had not to turn to see his face. I knew I was being rude. Mason didn’t seem like the kind of guy who dished out apologies often, but I knew he was going to lie to me. I didn’t want to stand there and listen to it.
I was glad he finally spoke to me—the smile I was trying to contain was evidence—but I couldn’t focus on that. We needed to keep a student-teacher relationship.
It was a shame, too, because I really liked the Mason I saw the night of the fundraiser.
Four
Mason
I smirked as Emma walked out of my classroom. She was quick on her feet and spirited, things I never thought I’d be attracted to. But with her, it sparked something within me. I needed more of it.
The week before was a challenge for me as I ignored her completely. I needed the distance to figure out what the fuck was going on in my head. I knew I couldn’t distance myself from her in class, so I pretended she wasn’t there.
It was easy at first. I convinced myself that she was disgusted with me, which she should have been after what she’d seen. But I knew she wasn’t.
I could feel the intensity of her stare earlier in class, and even though I tried to abstain from looking at her, I’d caved. When our eyes met, it was like she was trying to see through me, trying to break down my walls. I both hated and relished the way it made me feel.
I was in unexplored terrain. Not one to drop my walls for anyone, my mask was always in place. But Emma? She was different. I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it. How could one person I’d just met make me want to change years of consistent behavior?
After gathering my things from my office, I headed out to my car and left for the day. I drove aimlessly, needing to clear my head. So much had happened in the past few weeks that I didn’t know how to process it all, which was completely unlike me. Usually, I’d go for a run. Working out all my frustrations did the trick, but even that wasn’t showing its usual appeal.
There were two instances where I wanted to cut, but the stitches on my hip were enough of a reminder for me not to. I simply held the razor in my hand and stared at it. I’d debated on throwing it away, finding a new outlet, but I’d thrown it back in the drawer and slammed it closed.
It wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of my demons; I had to take it a step at a time. I’d taken Luke’s words to heart. I knew I needed to stop, I just didn’t know if I’d be able to right away.
Coming to a stop at a red light, I looked around and realized where I was. A smile pulled at my lips.
I turned the car to the right and found a parking spot right outside of The Deli Shop.
I had no destination in mind when I jumped in the car, but I was more than happy to stop and say hello to Tony and Martha.
Walking through the doors, I inhaled the smells that brought back so many memories. I was glad it was one thing John could never take away. He knew nothing about the stops Mom and I used to make, so there was no way he could tarnish these memories for me.
Tony noticed me and gave me a small smile as I stood in line behind two others waiting to order. When it was finally my turn, he walked around the counter and held his arms open to me. I embraced him in a hug and the scent of baked goods overwhelmed my senses. The old man always smelled like bread.
“To what do I owe the pleasure? Two visits within a week? You’ve made an old man happy, my boy,” he said happily as he patted me on the back and led me toward the dining area.
I smiled down at him as we reached a table and sat down. “Is Martha here?”
Tony let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at his folded hands on the table. “Martha hasn’t been coming in lately. She’s been sick,” he said sadly as he lifted his gaze to mine.
I furrowed my brow at the news and reached a hand out to lay on top of his, offering him my support. With the way he was acting, I knew it must be serious. “What do you mean by ‘sick’?” I asked solemnly.
“She’s had cancer for some time now. The doctors,” he started, shaking his head. “They don’t think she’s got much time left.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” I squeezed his hand before letting go to sit b
ack in my seat.
Tony and Martha had been such a big part of my childhood that I couldn’t imagine them ever being apart. They’d been together for over forty years and shared a love I’d probably never get to experience.
Tony sat back in his seat and turned his head to look out the window.
“We’ve both come to terms that life isn’t forever. We’ve had a long run together, and just because it’s time for one of us to move on to our next life, it doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget her.” He looked back at me with a small smile. “You should come by. She’d love to see you.”
I smiled at his invitation. “I’ll have to do that.”
“And you should bring your lady friend. Martha would be so happy to finally meet one of your girlfriends.”
I sat up and ran a hand down my face before letting out a short laugh. “Tony,” I said with a pause. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
He shook his head and stood from his seat. “I’ve known you a long time. And throughout these years, I’ve never seen you come in with anyone else besides your friend Luke. I saw the way you looked at her. It’s the same way I still look at my Martha. You may not see it now, but that one?” he said, pointing at me. “That one’s something special.”
He walked closer to me and patted me on the shoulder with a smile. “I’ll get Ellen to bring out your food,” he said before walking off to take over the register once again.
I sat there slightly stunned at his bold words and laughed to myself. He’d asked me a time or two when I’d have a wedding for him to attend, and I always told him not to hold his breath. I knew he wanted to see me happy, but it was never in the cards for me. It was never something I searched for. It wasn’t possible for me to love someone else when I hardly loved myself.
~*~
I arrived home a few hours later and sat in my office going over everything Tony had said to me.
What would my life have been like if John and my mother had that kind of relationship? What kind of man would I have become?
Getting up from my desk chair, I walked to the bar and grabbed the crystal decanter that held my scotch. I’d spent so many nights thinking about the ‘what if’s’. It wasn’t the fact that my mother had died; my life would have been great if I had a father who was worth a damn. He ruined my life the day he brought Sophia into his house.
Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2) Page 2
