Take a Chance on Me: Lessons, Book 4

by Kate Davies

  “Breaking and entering is a felony, you know.”

  Jessica whirled around, coming dangerously close to smacking her head on the low overhang. She slapped a hand to her chest and glared at Tom. “You won’t be happy until you give me a heart attack, will you?”

  He shrugged. “You’re the one trying to shake open a locked door. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Yeah, well, so am I.” She pulled her shoulders back and narrowed her eyes.

  “I didn’t realize you’re a cat burglar on the side. Not a very successful one, but—”

  “Oh, good Lord. I’m not a cat burglar. I’m just trying to get into the theater.” She smacked the door for emphasis.

  Tom stepped forward and placed his hand on the doorframe, effectively blocking her exit route. Her head barely reached his chin. The voice in the back of his head was muttering something, but he ignored it. “I’m curious.”

  He tilted his head down, realized he had an unobstructed view of her cleavage, and ripped his gaze back up to a spot on the door an inch or so above her head. The dress wasn’t particularly low-cut, but his height gave him a vantage point that caught the neckline in just the right—or wrong—spot.

  It had only been for the briefest of moments, but he had a feeling that the inadvertent glimpse of creamy smooth skin and lace-trimmed bra would be on a playback loop in his mind for the rest of the evening. Perfect.

  “That leads to dead cats.”

  Tom dragged his attention back to the conversation, which appeared to have taken a ninety-degree turn somewhere. “Dead—what are you talking about?”

  “Curiosity. You said you were curious.”

  He stared at Jessica, his eyebrows drawn together. “Okay.”

  “So what are you curious about?”

  Tom blinked. “I have no idea. Lost my train of thought.”

  Of course, that particular train had derailed somewhere near the lacy detailing on her bra, but he had no intention of sharing that with her. Now, what the hell had he been talking about?

  “Key!” he exclaimed, grasping the remembered topic like a lifeline. “Why didn’t you just pick up a key?”

  Jessica looked down, tapping her toe on the floor. “I thought it would be easier to just look for an open door.”

  “I see.”

  She made a face at him. “No, you don’t.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.” He shrugged. “You’re in charge of the spring play, which means you need a key to the theater anyway. The main door is directly across from the office, where you could pick up the key from Trudy, whose job description includes giving people keys. Instead, you’re hanging around in Hickey Hallway, trying to break down the door.”

  “I wasn’t trying to—what hallway?”

  “Hickey Hallway. Make-out capital of Summit High, or it used to be.”

  “What happened?”

  “I shut it down.”

  “Now that’s something to put on your resume.” She grinned and leaned back against the door, tapping her forehead in a breezy salute. “Tom Cameron, defender of truth, justice and an educational environment free of public displays of affection.”

  “Just don’t make me wear a goofy costume.”

  “I’m the drama coach now, remember? Goofy costumes are my stock in trade.” She sobered, absent-mindedly drumming her fingers on the doorframe. “At least I think they are. I’m assuming there’s a costume room somewhere.”

  “Other side of the janitor’s closet.”

  “Which is where?”

  He pointed down the hall. “Turn right at the end of the hallway, second door on the left.”

  “Can I get in to the theater that way?”

  He shook his head. “Not unless you want to use the catwalk. The outside access is through the closet. I think it used to be a much bigger costume room, but they cut it in half during one of many remodels. For some reason, the catwalk access ended up on the wrong side.”

  “One more thing to worry about.” She sighed heavily, the bodice of her dress lifting briefly into Tom’s view, then dropping back down. He gritted his teeth and wondered if spontaneous combustion would set off the sprinkler system.

  “You’re right, you know. I really should have picked up a key. I just figured I could find a way in without bothering anyone, and then I was too embarrassed to go back to the office after wandering around out here for the last—” she checked her watch “—twenty minutes. I guess I’ll just try again tomorrow.” She pushed away from the door, bending to retrieve her book bag.

  First her chest, now her ass. Did he have to get a good look at every erogenous zone on her body today? He turned away, studying the locker bank across the hall with feigned interest. He already had an incipient case of blue balls without adding to his misery.

  When he glanced back, Jessica was standing upright again, book bag slung over one shoulder. She clutched a disorganized stack of papers in her arms that had probably tumbled out of the bag as she was retrieving it. She was glancing down the shadowy hall, a wistful look on her face.

  Tom was a sucker for wistful.

  He stuck his hand in his coat pocket, his fingers brushing the book he’d borrowed that morning.

  Against his better judgment, he pulled out the heavy key ring and dangled it in front of her. “I’ll let you in.”

  “Are you sure?” Jessica glanced up at him, biting her lower lip. “I don’t want to bother you. I know you probably have work to do.”

  Tom paused. He was definitely headed towards unstable ground. He didn’t want any kind of connection with Jessica Martin, let alone one that involved long conversations in a darkened hallway known for its make-out potential. And now he was offering to take her into a locked theater for a one-on-one tour? What was he thinking?

  Well, he had a few options. One, agree that he was too busy to help her out right now and walk on down the hall. Two, open the door, show her the light switch and take off. And he wouldn’t even consider option three.

  He suddenly realized Jessica was standing there, back against the doorframe, waiting for him to say something. There was a little crinkle between her eyes, a puzzled look that radiated “polite but confused”. Great. Now he looked like a total moron who couldn’t respond to a simple statement.

  “Sorry. Not a problem. I’m off the clock now anyway. I’ll just let you in and get going.” He turned and reached for the door, keys at the ready.

  She stepped away, brushing lightly against his arm as she passed. He swallowed, tamping down the immediate reaction to her closeness. He put the master key in the lock and turned it, tugging a little at the door handle until he heard the click. He pushed the door open and reached a hand inside, sweeping the wall with his fingers until he found the master light switch. He flipped them on and stepped aside to let Jessica through.

  The theater was huge.

  Jessica swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Spatial ability had never been her strong suit, even wandering around the perimeter hadn’t given her a clue just how big the space was. Sure, she knew there was a theater inside, but shouldn’t there be other areas as well? Rehearsal rooms? Classrooms? Olympic-size swimming pool?

  It was definitely a school built ages ago. Nowadays, they’d slap a hideaway stage at the edge of the cafeteria and call it performance space. A couple of portable lights, no backstage, a seating area whipped together out of folding chairs the day of the show by the head custodian, and you were in business. Not here. This was an honest-to-goodness theater.

  Row after row of worn velvet seats stretched from the orchestra pit to the back of the theater, each row slightly higher than the one before. It could easily seat five hundred.

  Wait a minute. Orchestra pit? Oh, God, she wasn’t going to have to direct a musical, was she?

  A glass booth occupied the back of the theater. Jessica squinted in the dim light. Lighting controls? She glanced overhead. Oh, my heavens. Hundreds—okay, dozens—of lights. All pointed at the stage. Was she supposed
to teach the students how to work all of them?

  And the stage—huge, empty, hung with curtains in black and red. It had been years since she had been in a theater—any theater. She’d sworn never again to set foot in one. And now, because she needed a full-time teaching position, she would have to spend hours, days, months in this throwback of a theater that all but shouted I expect greatness!

  Legs suddenly weak, Jessica dropped into the nearest seat. I can’t do this, she thought with a shudder. In less than three months, she was expected to cast, rehearse, direct and produce a high school play. She didn’t even have a script picked out yet. And now that she’d seen the theater, she knew it had to be a doozy.

  She took a deep breath, then another, in a somewhat useless attempt to get her nerves under control. This was ridiculous. She was not going to hyperventilate over a stupid room. But the familiar gut-twisting tension was already settling in, and Jessica knew she had to get herself under control.

  A warm hand covered her shoulder, making her jump. “You okay?”

  Sucking in a breath, Jessica turned her head to look at Tom. Oh my God, she’d actually forgotten he was in the theater. “Fine,” she lied.

  The skeptical expression on his face told her he wasn’t buying it, but at least he didn’t say anything. Instead, he slid his hand down her arm and wrapped his fingers gently around her wrist. “How about I show you backstage?”

  “Uh, okay,” she stuttered. Standing, she reached down to grab her book bag and slung it over her shoulder. “That’s a good idea.”

  But when he tugged her down the aisle, she wasn’t sure if that was exactly the truth either.

  He was an idiot.

  A first class, grade-A, freakin’ idiot.

  He’d had every intention of letting her in the theater and taking off. Instead, he’d stuck around, leaning against the back wall, watching her wander through the auditorium.

  And when she’d collapsed into the seat, it had been clear just how freaked out she was about all of this.

  Did that mean he needed to wander backstage with her?

  No, it did not.

  But somehow he was doing it anyway.

  Swearing under his breath, he let go of her wrist, trying to convince himself he didn’t miss the contact immediately. “Here we are,” he said unnecessarily. He bounded up the stairs at the side of the stage and waited for her to join him. Her footsteps echoed through the empty theater.

  She looked out at the rows of seats, and drew in a shuddering breath. “It’s so big.”

  Right at that moment, it certainly was. But he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Jessica was referring to. Biting back the wholly inappropriate laughter that threatened to break free, Tom turned away and headed backstage. “The green room is over this direction.”

  After a moment, she followed, looking from side to side as if she couldn’t quite take it all in. “I can’t believe this theater,” she murmured, her voice low.

  “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” He flipped on the lights in the green room and stepped aside so she could take a look. “You’d never find a theater like this in a new school.”

  “Lucky me.” Her voice was dry as toast. “It’s a lot to live up to.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” She checked her watch. “Damn. We should probably go.”

  “You’re right.” He turned off the green room lights. “Come on.”

  They were almost to the stage when the theater lights suddenly turned off, plunging the two of them into darkness.

  “Oh, my God.” Her hand reached out, grasping his arm. “What happened?”

  “Custodian is my best guess. Steve probably saw the lights and figured someone’d left them on by accident. Dammit.” Tom shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I can’t see.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but it echoed in the empty space, almost seeming amplified by the darkness. Just like the clean, citrusy scent of her wrapping around him, or the warmth of her palm against his biceps.

  It was true. Take away one sense and the others became even sharper.

  Tom wondered if that would hold true about taste.

  Cursing his overactive imagination, he started to step away from her, but she followed, her fingers clutching his shirt convulsively. Her breathing sped up, harsh pants that warned him she was on the verge of panic.

  “Hey,” he soothed, placing his hand over hers. “We’ll be fine.”

  Then, to prove that fate had a sense of humor, he heard to unmistakable sound of the door at the back of the theater, the one he’d left propped open for them to use on the way out, clanging shut.

  With a gasp of fear, Jessica curled into him, clinging to the front of his shirt with both hands. Her trim little body was pressed against him from shoulder to knee, soft breasts pillowed against his torso. Her face was buried in the fabric of his shirt.

  “It was just the door.”

  “Are we stuck here?” Her lips moved against his chest as she spoke, still clinging to him with all the force of her fear.

  “Nah.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Once we find a way off this stage and down the aisle, I can get us to the door.”

  “Easier said than done,” she whispered. “I hate the dark.”

  “I kinda gathered that.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got pretty good night vision. When my eyes adjust I’ll get us out of here.”

  “Thanks.” She slid her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry I’m such a wuss.”

  “Really, it’s okay. Everybody has issues that bug them,” he said, one hand awkwardly stroking her back in a gesture that tried—and failed—to be soothing. Instead, it sent waves of desire coursing through him, tempting him to let his hand drift just a little lower, cup her ass and pull her tight against his aching cock.

  He clenched his jaw against the temptation. He couldn’t. She was a co-worker, just looking for comfort. He had no right to take what she wasn’t offering.

  Forcing himself to take a step back, he cupped a hand around her elbow and steered her toward the stairs at the edge of the stage, like the Boy Scout he wasn’t, but needed to be in this situation.

  The sooner he could get his erotic thoughts away from the too-tempting Ms. Martin, the better.

  “Are we there yet?” Jessica winced. Way to sound like a four-year-old. “Never mind.”

  His low chuckle sent tremors of awareness fluttering through her stomach. “Pretty close.”

  “God, I hate this,” she muttered, but even as she said the words, she knew they were only partially true. Because no matter how much she hated this suffocating darkness, another part of her thrilled at the sensation of being with Tom like this, his body heat wrapping around her, the spice of his cologne filling her senses, the touch of his hand on her arm making her heartbeat pound crazily.

  She could still feel the solid weight of his muscled form against her, his arms circling her body like a lover’s.

  Jessica shook her head. Bad, bad train of thought, especially in the dark.

  “What is it?” He stopped abruptly, turning in her direction. She could just make out the faint outline of his head, her eyes having adjusted a little. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said, glad the darkness would hide the fierce blush she could feel crawling up her cheeks. “No big deal.”

  His silence was dubious at best, but at least he started moving forward again, leading her like a guide for the blind. Hopefully, his eyesight was better in the dark than hers. Otherwise, he’d be likely to take them both over the edge of the stage and into the orchestra pit.

  She gritted her teeth as he sidestepped carefully to the corner of the stage and led her down the stairs. Why couldn’t he carry a flashlight or something? Anything to end this torture.

  Jessica held on to Tom’s hand as he helped her down the stairs. His grip was surprisingly strong, his hand warm. She fought the instinct to slide her fingers between his, entwinin
g their hands in a lover’s clasp.

  They weren’t lovers. They never would be.

  Finally, finally they were on the auditorium floor, and she sighed, a whoosh of relief to be on solid ground again. The aisle was right in front of them, but though she expected him to let go of her hand for the short trek to the exit, the clasp of his fingers grew stronger. They were walking a little faster now, holding on to the backs of the chairs as they passed by.

  The aisle leveled out as they reached the last row of chairs.

  “Here we are.” Tom dropped her hand and fumbled in his pocket for his keys. “I’ll get the door.”

  Almost free.

  Then, before she could talk herself out of it, Jessica wrapped one hand around his neck, pulled his head down to hers and kissed him.

  Oh, God.

  What was she doing?

  Horrified by her impetuous move—and by his stunned lack of response—Jessica tried to pull back. Really, she’d only been reacting to the fright of being in a dark, unfamiliar place, wanting to thank him for being so understanding about her silly fear. But the minute her lips touched his, she’d known it was a terrible mistake.

  Because she wanted more.

  And he wasn’t kissing her back.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, which made about as much sense in the pitch-black theater as kissing a man she barely knew, she pulled away. “I’m so sor—”

  But before she could finish the sentence, he’d hauled her close again and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

  One hand pressed against the small of her back, keeping her tight against him, while the other cupped the back of her head and tilted it slightly, giving him just the right angle to tease her mouth open. She groaned as his tongue swept inside, stroking the inside of her mouth as his hand slid lower, curving past the base of her spine and cupping her ass.

  With a swift movement, he spun them both around so her back was to the door. Taking one step forward, he pressed against her, hips to shoulders.

  He was hard, the thick length of him branding her where their bodies met. She slid her hands up and over his shoulders, wrapped them around his neck, locking him in place.