Hot For Teacher

by Anthology

  Jake shot upright in bed and swiped at the cold sweat of his brow. It was just another nightmare. After ten years, Preston still haunted him. True, the real Preston had never openly blamed him for the accident, but Jake carried the blame all the same. And dream-Preston would never let him forget. Not that Jake could forget that night if he tried. The painful memory was branded on his heart, a scar that would never fully heal…

  “Jake, you’re smoking some serious shit if you think I’m gonna let you drive my truck,” Preston slurred, making another uncoordinated swipe for the keys in Jake’s hand.

  Jake shook his head at his inebriated best friend and stretched to keep the keys out of his reach. “I wasn’t the one who downed a whole bottle of Jack after the game, Preston. You’re lucky you’re still standing. No way could you drive home. Trust me. You’ll thank me tomorrow when your beloved truck is still in one piece.”

  Preston raised one unsteady finger, jabbing it uncomfortably close to Jake’s nose. “So much as one scratch on my baby, and I’ll kick your ass.”

  Jake smirked at that. “I’d love to see you try, Brother. But, no worries. I’ll get your precious truck home safe.”

  Preston chewed his lower lip as his muddled mind seemed to consider his options. His head bobbed in acceptance. “Fine.”

  Jake followed close behind his friend as he stumbled in the direction of the parked truck, shaking his head in bemused disgust.

  Preston was gifted, probably the most promising football player to set foot on the field in the history of their town. He was going places, if only he could keep his head on straight.

  The night’s game offered victory in more ways than an undefeated record and a championship title. There were scouts in those stands. And those scouts wanted Jake and Preston.

  So, the team gathered around a post-game bon fire to celebrate the stars of their town. They were going places, both of them. Jake had raised an eyebrow when Preston drew the stolen bottle of whiskey from his pack. His friend had always had it so easy, but had a habit of making it hard.

  Preston’s parents were more of a father and mother to Jake than his own would ever be. They gave their children everything. All Jake’s had ever given him was broken bones and an assortment of bruises.

  Jake could never quite understand why Preston rebelled against such love and privilege. But he vowed to keep an eye on his wayward friend, for the parents who loved him like a son.

  So, he watched in wary disgust as Preston alternated chugging the hard liquor like it was water and shoving his tongue down various cheerleaders’ throats. His friend was in party mode. He’d learned earlier on not to try to intervene. Preston would only become more reckless and belligerent if he did. So, Jake resolved himself to being his best friend’s safety net when the party was over.

  Hell, he’d gladly give Preston a piece of his liver if the dumb ass pickled his. It would be the least he could, for the family and life Preston shared with him.

  Because of Preston, Jake had a home. Because of him, he had a family. Jake would do anything to repay that kindness. Like babysit his drunk ass and sneak him in after Mom and Pop had gone to sleep.

  The two of them piled into Preston’s truck and headed back into town. The winding road through the woodlands that divided the lake shore from town was dark as always. But Jake chanced a sideways glance every minute or two to check on Preston. The idiot was still breathing. Thank God.

  He’d never seen Preston quite so messed up before. Something had to be very wrong. Sad thing was, Jake had a pretty good idea what it was.

  “So, I saw you making out with Tanya Nicholls tonight,” Jake led quietly, failing to mention the other five girls Preston had also been swapping spit with. “She’s cute. How long has that been going on for?”

  Preston rolled his head to glare at Jake. “Since Kodi started screwing someone else.”

  Jake swallowed- hard. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that? You and Kodi seemed so perfect for each other.”

  Preston cracked his knuckles in front of him. His expression was murderous as he glared out the windshield into the darkness with an unsteady gaze. “We were. Until she decided to screw anything with a dick.”

  “Maybe she’s not,” Jake suggested quietly, hoping not to poke the bear.

  “Bullshit!” Preston shouted, slamming his fist down on the dash in front of him. The hard plastic protested beneath the abuse, but didn’t break. Jake wasn’t sure if Preston’s hand faired so well. It might not hurt now while the booze numbed his nerves, but Preston would regret his temper in the morning. “Mike saw her car parked up at Shadow Point, windows all fogged up. There’s only one thing people go up to Shadow Point for and it sure as shit isn’t the view.”

  “Kodi wasn’t having sex with someone else up at Shadow Point, Preston,” Jake stated softly.

  Preston dark gaze could’ve carved diamonds. “Oh, yeah? And how the hell would you know that?” he snarled.

  The dude was belligerent when drunk. Like a shark when its eyes went black. Like Jake’s dad. Still, Preston was Jake’s best friend, his only family. And he would do anything to ease his pain.

  “Because it was me in the car with her that night,” Jake admitted, feeling the weight of his unwitting betrayal lift ever so slightly at the confession.

  The truth was out. Jake had been dumb enough to let his best friend’s girl lure him up to Shadow Point, under the guise of planning a surprise party for Preston. Nothing happened. Not really anyway. They’d parked to talk, Kodi had climbed into his lap, and she’d attempted to smother him with her mouth. Jake had pushed her away, grumbled a few choice words, and ushered her home. End of story.

  But Preston didn’t give him the chance to explain that.

  “You son of a bitch!” Preston growled, lunging across the cab at him.

  Jake braced himself for the attack, expecting an uncoordinated blow from his inebriated friend. Wrong. Preston grabbed the steering wheel instead, wrenching it hard to the right.

  The world around them moved in slow motion, all the while speeding by at an impossible rate. The truck bounced off the narrow shoulder, careening downhill toward the copse of trees of the surrounding forest. Jake tried to brake, tried to regain control of the vehicle, but the truck’s tires caught air as the vehicle tumbled end over end toward the towering shadows of the dark woodlands. The surreal moment of impact struck in the blink of an eye, a flash-like moment of pain and shock, filled with jarring intensity as metal twisted around wood, glass shattered, air bags exploded, and life as they knew it came to a screeching halt.

  Followed by deafening silence. Sure, Jake’s ears rang and his head reeled from the blow of the bag ‘softening’ the crash. The radio played on as though nothing had happened. The engine hissed in protest. Crickets chirped in the distance. But the calm following the ear splitting collision provided a deathly contrast.

  Warm, wet fluid oozed from his nose. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy on the air. Jake swiped at his tender nose with a shaky hand and tipped his head to look over at Preston. Trapped amid the invading foliage, crumpled metal, and shards of glass, Preston laid motionless. The wreckage obstructed Jake’s view of Preston’s lower half, but if the upper half was any indication… Jake didn’t want to know. There was so much blood. His best friend was far too pale in the faint moonlight. He was far too still.

  Preston couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. He was the only family Jake had.

  “Preston?” he croaked, his broken voice foreign to his own ears. “Preston?”

  Nothing.

  Coughing against the mechanical fumes burning his lungs, Jake reached for his seatbelt and tore himself free. Straining to stretch across the cab, he reached for his friend. He pressed two trembling fingers to the groove at the juncture of Preston’s jaw and throat, checking for a pulse as he’d learned to do in lifeguard training last summer.

  The slightest flutter danced beneath his touch. A heartbeat, albeit a weak one. Jake croaked wi
th joy.

  “Don’t you dare die on me, you dumb bastard,” he muttered, studying his friend and trying to formulate a plan of action.

  One look told him extraction was not an option. Preston was trapped in the wreckage. Any attempt to move him could cause irreparable damage to his spine. If that wasn’t already the case. Sirens blared in the distance as Jake crawled from the wreckage. Flashing lights approached from the direction of town, bouncing off the trees in the darkness. That was the last thing Jake remembered before he staggered to his feet and everything went black.

  Jake came to hours later. He’d sustained a nasty concussion, but was no worse for wear. He’d live to play football another day. But every time he asked about Preston, the staff brushed him off. As soon as he was steady on his own two feet, Jake made his way to Preston’s bedside. And finally understood what no one had wanted to tell him.

  “The docs say my spinal cord is severed. No control from the neck down,” Preston said quietly, glaring up at the ceiling as though it was the thief who’d robbed him of his future. “I’ll never play football again. Shit, let’s be real -- I’ll never wipe my own ass again.”

  Jake couldn’t speak. There were no words for the grief he felt for his friend’s loss, for his part in it. ‘I’m sorry’ just didn’t seem adequate.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Preston muttered. “I don’t need your pity.”

  “No,” Jake said softly, swallowing at the lump in his throat. “I’m staying. That’s what friends do.”

  “I don’t need your sorry ass hanging around, feeling guilted into spoon feeding me and changing my diapers.” Preston snuffled as a tear streamed down his cheek. “We had dreams man, go live. Get out of here.”

  “Preston, I can’t just leave you here, not after what happened,” Jake protested.

  “I don’t want you here,” Preston ground out. “The last thing I need is you hanging around, reminding me of what I could’ve had. Get the hell out.”

  Jake wanted to argue. He wanted to stand his ground and be there for his friend. But secretly, deep down in a place he would never admit existed, he was relieved that Preston cut him loose. And that made the guilt a million times worse. While Jake would go to college on a football scholarship as they both had planned, Preston would be wasting away in bed. The thought twisted Jake’s gut into knots. He tried to tell himself that he would do everything for Preston, live their dreams for the both of them, but he still couldn’t forgive himself as he walked away from his best friend.

  Jake shook off the memory and the pain that came with it. He’d never made his peace with what had happened to Preston, but he’d found a way to compartmentalize the pain. Until Savannah showed up in his classroom. She reminded Jake so much of Preston before the accident – only hot with a big rack and a nice ass – and her sudden reappearance in his life stirred up all of those old feelings and memories.

  With a drunkard father who’d beat the shit out of him for sport, and a doormat of a mother who’d sat by and watched, Jake had tried to spend as little time at home as possible. So, the Bradshaws had become his family. Until Preston lost control of his limbs and Jake had lost the only family he’d ever loved.

  Seeing Savannah again drudged up all the feelings he’d suppressed for so long – feelings of safety and belonging, family and love. Losing them had been devastating, but Jake accepted his exile as fair recompense for all the accident had stolen from Preston. Preston lost his future, so it was only fair that Jake lost the only family he’d ever known.

  Jake had moved on, keeping everyone he met at arm’s length. They couldn’t hurt him, if he didn’t let them close enough to do so. He didn’t need others, he didn’t need relationships. All the characteristics he valued in human relationships were lost in a bygone era anyway. Love, honor, and loyalty were all things of the past, for the history books, not modern day. It was why he loved history so much. People back then loved deeper, fought harder, and died honorably for their passions.

  People didn’t love like that nowadays. They were colder, more selfish. He couldn’t help but read the epic stories of love and sacrifice, written throughout history, and crave such a life for himself. But love like that didn’t exist anymore. And as far as he was concerned, if it wasn’t a love worth sacrificing everything for, Jake wanted nothing to do with it.

  ***

  One month later

  “Miss Bradshaw, please see me after class,” Jake called out as he strode to the front of the lecture hall.

  Savannah jumped in her seat at the sound of her name on Jake’s tongue. Never mind that she’d been all too aware of his presence in his office at the front of the hall from the moment she’d taken her seat. She’d tried impossibly hard to ignore it. Fat lot of good it did her. It would be easier to ignore the sunshine on a summer day. Still, he’d taken her by surprise when he’d singled her out in front of the class. She’d sat through weeks of lectures without so much as a lingering glance to indicate he recognized her. Oh, but she recognized him. And, just as when they were younger, she was painfully aware of him, while he had no clue she was alive.

  Or so she’d thought. Wrong.

  Toxic envy could’ve painted the air around her green as all the girls openly glared at her. Over the past several weeks, word of the hot, young history professor had spread across campus like wild fire. Every coed wanted a piece of the delicious Dr. Anderson. Most of them made no secret of it either. They would find any excuse to throw themselves at him. From requests for private tutoring to perfumed love notes, their efforts were shameless and often tacky. But Jake would nervously rake his hand through his hair, smile graciously as he brushed them off, and move along as though nothing had happened. Poor man, he’d need ‘coed repellant’ to survive the semester if they kept at it. Not that Savannah could judge them too harshly. She was, after all, just as enamored by him. She, however, had more important things to focus on than her gorgeous history professor.

  Savannah lifted her gaze to find him watching her from the front of the classroom. His bright blue eyes crackled with electricity as her gaze met his. Her cheeks burned with unwelcome pleasure. Her heart fluttered in traitorous joy. But she tamped the feeling down and bolstered her wavering resolve. He was an enticing distraction, nothing more.

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” she choked through the lump forming in her throat.

  Jake held her captive with his eyes as a slow, sexy smile spread across his perfect lips. Damn. Savannah’s heart stuttered. A knowing grin teased his lips as he tipped his head to the side and raised his brows at her. But then he rubbed the scruff of his jaw, turned, and redirected his attention to the rest of the lecture hall.

  “Alright, class, please turn to page one hundred and seventy-three of your text. Now, who can tell me the moral and political implications of the Emancipation Proclamation?”

  At least, that’s what Savannah thought he might have said. Not that she wasn’t paying attention. On the contrary. He had her undivided attention. He may have jumped right into his lecture without so much as a second thought for her, but she was still lost in the inescapable moment when his eyes had held hers. It was impossible to concentrate with her heart hammering in her chest. It was difficult to hear his words with her pulse thundering in her ears. She found herself watching his lips move as he spoke, and fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss them.

  In all the years Savannah had known him, this was the first time Jake Anderson had every truly looked at her and seen her. The thought made her head spin. The most intoxicating thought of all was how he’d made it more than clear he liked what he saw. She’d spent most of her life flying under the radar, not caring to be seen by those around her. Except for him. She’d have traded her two front teeth to have him look at her like that when they were kids. But he’d never given her second glance. At last he’d looked at her. And she liked it far more than she dared. If a single look could turn her insides to mush, she was terrified to think of what a single touch could
do. A single kiss…

  The hour passed by slower than ever. Savannah normally loved to listen to Jake lecture, no matter how trivial the subject matter, but her anticipation made the clock hands move as though trapped in rapidly drying concrete. She wanted to scale the wall and move the hands to the time when the bell would chime and the hall full of students would empty.

  Eventually the time came and Savannah leapt out of her seat at the sound of the bell. Loitering at the front of the classroom, she hugged her text book to her chest as she waited for the last stream of stragglers to find the exit. A group of noisy girls whispered and pointed as they stalled near the doorway, eyeing her as though she’d slashed all their tires and kissed all their boyfriends combined. Savannah chewed her lower lip and contemplated shooing them out herself. But Jake saved her the effort.

  With a stunning smile and a few charismatic words, he ushered the girls out the door and closed it behind them. The colossal lecture hall suddenly seemed way too small, with just the two of them behind closed doors. Savannah knew she should worry about the gossip certain to spread about her ‘meeting’ with Dr. Anderson. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Let them talk. What did she care? She had the brains to back up any grades earned.

  “So, you wanted to speak with me?” Savannah prompted nervously, hugging her book a little tighter to her racing heart.

  The corner of Jake’s mouth tipped up into a wry smile. “Yes. Come with me.”

  He led her into his office and shut that door behind her as well. If the massive lecture hall had felt tiny with just the two of them, Jake’s office felt outright intimate. In spite of its tight, institutional design, it had a rugged, masculine feel, much like the man. Degrees hung on the wall alongside painted metal shelving with football trophies and various awards. Piles of papers littered his desk in an unorganized fashion certain to make Savannah twitch. How did he even find the right papers to grade? Never mind. Not her monkeys, not her circus…

  “Please, have a seat,” he said from behind her, crossing the room to round his desk and sink into the chair behind it.