“Babe, are you here with me?” Am I? I don’t even know what’s happening here. “Do you want eggs and toast or a bagel for breakfast?”
“Eggs are good,” I finally get out, and he nods, pulls out a dozen eggs, and sets them on the counter before looking at me once more with his lips twitching.
“Can you shut the door for me?” Feeling awkwardly for the door behind me, I swing it closed, then walk toward the kitchen, not sure what to do with myself. Looking around his place, I notice it’s the complete opposite of mine. Where I have bright colors everywhere, all of his stuff is different shades of blacks mixed with grays and white. His bar stools are chrome with black leather tops; the canisters and things on the counters are all black, including his coffeemaker and toaster. His place is definitely a guy’s place.
Taking a few more steps toward the kitchen, I set Muffin’s leash down on top of the island, then watch him pull out a pan and start up the stove. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled, if that’s okay.”
“You want ham and cheese in them?”
“Sure.” I nod, watching him in confused silence as he starts to crack enough eggs to feed an army.
“You mind making the toast?”
“Okay.” I slide off my jacket, setting it on one of his bar stools, which leaves me in a formfitting long-sleeved top. Going around to the inside of the kitchen, I take the loaf of bread he hands me and put four slices in his toaster while he rips up pieces of ham and cheese, adding them to the bowl with the eggs.
“Would you like coffee?” he asks, dumping the bowl of egg mixture into the pan.
“Yeah, thanks.” I give him a small smile as he pulls down two cups and hands them to me. “Coffee’s there. Milk’s in the fridge. Sugar’s in the tall black thing.” He nods to the counter and sets down both cups. I fill them both, then go to the fridge; when I open it, I notice there’s not even one fast food container, which is also the complete opposite of mine.
“Would you like some?” I hold up the half gallon of milk after dumping a few drops in my coffee.
“Nah, I take my coffee black.” Of course he does—he’s obviously a man’s man, so no way would he put something in coffee to take out the bite that’s supposed to put hair on your chest. “What’s funny?”
“Hmm?” I turn and set his cup of black coffee next to the stove.
“You were smiling.”
“I was?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know,” I lie, picking up my cup and taking a sip of delicious warm coffee.
“Hmm.” He shakes his head, then goes back to flipping and turning the eggs over in the pan.
“Is butter in the fridge?” I ask when the toast pops up, and he looks at me over his shoulder.
“Yep, and plates are above the sink. Knives in the drawer next to it.”
“Cool,” I mutter, then go about getting plates and buttering the toast. Once I’m done, he pulls the pan off the hot stove and scoops out some eggs for himself and me, then pulls down another plate and dumps the rest of the pan onto it. I don’t know what I expect, but when he sets the plate on the ground for Muffin, I’m dumbfounded and tongue-tied.
“Come, eat before it gets cold,” he urges, ushering me around to one of the bar stools and pulling it out for me to sit.
“You just made my dog breakfast,” I blurt once I’m seated, and he chuckles.
“I made you breakfast. I just made enough for her to get some, too,” he mutters, setting a plate in front of me.
“It’s no wonder she’s in love with you,” I grumble as he heads back into the kitchen to get his own plate.
“She just knows a good thing when she sees it,” he says. I watch his mouth move and would swear he adds, unlike her oblivious owner. But I can’t be sure, and no way will I ask him.
Coming back a second later, he takes a seat next to me and digs into his food, so I do the same. “This is really good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Sitting there next to him, I shovel food in my mouth to avoid talking. I don’t need to embarrass myself any more than I have today, and I don’t want to accidentally blurt out the thousands of questions currently pinging around in my skull. I keep reminding myself that he’s just a nice guy and a nice neighbor who wants to be my friend.
Finishing off as much food as I can, I take a sip of coffee and use it as an excuse to study Levi over the rim of my mug. He’s as gorgeous as always, maybe even more so with the little bit of morning scruff shadowing his jaw, accentuating his full lips and strong profile. My hand actually itches to reach out and touch him. To see for myself what the stubble would feel like against my fingers and how smooth his lips would be against my skin. Feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment when he looks over at me, I duck my head and set my coffee cup down. “I should go get ready for work.” I stand, gather up my plate and cup, and take them both to the sink, where I wash them quickly. “Thanks for breakfast. Next time it’s my treat,” I say, putting everything in the dish drainer without looking at him.
“Fawn.”
“Hmm?” I pick up Muffin’s leash and look to where she is sprawled out on the floor, asleep. “Up, girl, it’s time to go,” I tell her, and she opens one eye, then closes it. Seriously, not this again . . .
“Fawn.”
“Yeah?” I bend over and lift Muffin off the ground with my arms around her middle, then huff when she falls back to her belly after I have her on her feet. “Stubborn dog.”
“Fawn.” Oh god, the sound of his deep voice behind me and the feel of his large hand sliding around my hip to my stomach and his groin pressing into my ass cause a flood of heat to spread between my legs.
I don’t even think about what I’m doing. One second I’m feeling his very large, very evident erection poking me in the ass, and the next I’m spinning around to face him, up on my tiptoes, pressing my mouth to his.
“Christ,” he breathes against my lips before nipping the bottom one. On my gasp his tongue slides between my parted lips, and the taste of him and coffee exploding across my taste buds makes me moan. Feeling his hands roam up the back of my shirt across my skin, I press deeper into him, needing more, wanting more. I cling to him with all my strength while his hand cups the back of my skull and he takes over the kiss and my mind. Sliding my own hands around his back and up under his shirt, I press deeper into him and whimper down his throat. Getting lost in his mouth against mine, I allow him to lead me across the room. As the couch bumps the backs of my legs, my nails dig into his back.
“Fuck.” He stops suddenly, pulling away, leaving me off balance and completely mortified.
“I . . .” I press my fingers to my tingling lips while my chest heaves in sync with his. “I gotta go.” I bolt for the door, and by some act of god Muffin follows me out of his apartment and across the hall.
“Fawn . . . stop,” he shouts as I make it to my door. Before he can say more or make it across the hall to me, I get inside, slam the door, and bolt it with the lock. I’ve messed up. I’ve messed up big-time, and now I need to find a new place to live. “Fawn . . . we need to talk,” he shouts through the door with a pound of his fist, and I close my eyes.
“It’s okay, no talking necessary . . . I’ll see you around,” I shout back, then shake my head to myself, burying my face in my hands. I don’t know what came over me—I’ve never been aggressive before, but it’s like I couldn’t help myself.
Hearing a thump, I wonder what it is; then I hear his quietly growled words through the wood. “This isn’t over, baby, not by a long shot. I’ll see you tonight.”
He will not be seeing me tonight or ever for that matter. Tonight I’m going to my sisters’, where I plan on staying until I can find a new place to live . . . preferably in another country. I’ve always wanted to teach abroad, so this is the perfect excuse to finally move to Paris and put those eight years of French I took to good use. While I’m there I will spend my days working and my nights trying to forget about Levi and
the fact that he gave me the most devastatingly beautiful kiss of my life. With that plan in my mind, I head for my room to get ready for work.
Sitting on the corner of my desk when the bell rings, I study Tamara as she slips on her jacket and puts away her things. Today, like every day this week, she’s been quiet and withdrawn, whereas normally she’s outspoken and fully involved in class. I’m worried about her. Smiling at each kid as they leave the room, I look back at Tamara, who’s for once ready to go when everyone else is. “Tamara, can I speak to you for a minute?” I ask as she starts to pass in front of my desk; her eyes move to the clock on the wall before coming back to me.
“I have to be out front. My mom’s boyfriend is picking me up.” She swallows, looking nervous.
“It will just take a second,” I reassure her. There is no way that I will allow her to get into trouble by keeping her too long, but I need to make sure she’s okay before I can in good conscience let her leave for the day.
“Okay,” she agrees before turning to smile at Addie, one of her friends in class, as she passes.
“’Bye, Miss Reed.” Addie smiles.
“’Bye, Addie. Have a good day.” I know the girls in class talk to one another, so I have no doubt Tamara probably opened up to her friends about whatever’s going on. I just hope she will trust me enough to do the same with me.
Keeping my place perched on the edge of my desk, I look at Tamara as soon as the room is empty. “I noticed that you seem a little off this week. Is everything okay?”
Her immediate yes sets off warning bells, but I don’t let it show. I know better than to make it seem like I don’t believe her.
“If you ever want to talk to me about anything at all, I’m here, or if you would rather talk to Mrs. Jenkins, her door is always open,” I say, referring to the school counselor, whom all the kids love.
“I know.” She shrugs her shoulders, licking her bottom lip. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, honey,” I say softly, giving her a small smile. “Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“’Bye, Miss Reed.”
“’Bye, Tamara.” I watch her go, wishing that I didn’t have to. My gut tells me that something is happening, but I also know that without her talking to me, there is nothing I can do to help her. With a helpless sigh, I stand up and gather my bags and coat, then head for the front office.
“Hey, Sammy,” I greet the principal’s receptionist as soon as I walk through the door; her head flies up, causing her unruly hair to fall in front of her face.
“Hi, Fawn.” She smiles, blowing her hair out of her eyes and looking completely rattled—then again, she always looks rattled.
“Is Mrs. Thompson available?”
“Yep, go on in.” She nods toward the door behind her with a smile, and I head across the office and open the door, finding Mrs. Thompson sitting behind her computer, looking as polished as ever in a dusty-blue suit with her dark hair pinned back away from her very pretty face.
“Hi, Miss Reed, how can I help you?” She smiles at me as I move into the room and take a seat across from her.
“I’m a little worried,” I admit, setting my bags on the ground next to my chair.
“Worried?” she asks, sitting back and resting her hands in her lap as she studies me.
“Yes, Tamara Albergastey hasn’t seemed like herself in class the last few days.”
“What do you mean?” she asks quietly.
“It may be nothing, but she hasn’t been participating in class like she normally does, and she’s seemed really withdrawn.” I rub my hands together, wishing I had something more to go on. “I asked her after class if she wanted to talk and if she was okay, but she said she was fine.”
“Oh dear.” She sits forward, resting her hands on her desk. “Have there been any changes at home that you are aware of?”
“Her mom has a new boyfriend and I don’t think they get along, but I don’t know that for sure.”
“Hmm.” She smiles a soft, sad smile knowing Tamara’s mother’s history better than I do, since she’s been one of her students for the last few years.
“I understand how difficult this situation is, but unfortunately there is nothing we can do about the men Tamara’s mother chooses to spend her time with.”
“I know,” I agree quietly.
“I will see if I can find out what’s going on, but in the meantime, keep your chin up. Your students adore you, and Tamara is likely to speak to you about what’s happening before anyone else.”
“Thank you.”
Studying me for a long moment, the principal’s eyes search mine, and her face softens. “You’re a great teacher, Fawn, and I know these kids mean a lot to you. It shows in your work and their grades. We’re lucky to have you here in this school, but those kids are also very lucky to have someone who cares about them and their futures. Please know that Tamara’s situation is one that you do not have a lot of control over, regardless of how badly you wish differently.”
“I know, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“I know you do,” she says gently, moving her eyes past my shoulder briefly. “I wish more teachers cared as much as you do. I know what it’s like to see the potential in a child and want more for them. When I first started teaching, I had a student named Michel who was my favorite kid. He was good at everything but especially good in science, which was also my favorite subject to teach. I wanted him to get into a few different after-school science programs, but his family couldn’t afford for him to stay after school. He was the oldest and the one responsible for making sure his younger siblings made it home and had dinner. I hated that he had to make that sacrifice, but eventually I found a weekend science program for him to be a part of, so in the end everyone was happy.”
“That’s amazing.”
“No, what’s amazing is that he shared his love of science with his siblings and now they are all in college—and all of them are doing something in the field of science.” Sheesh. I pull in a breath and hold it to fight back the tears. “Keep doing what you’re doing, not only with Tamara but with all of your students.”
“I will.” I nod, picking up my bags and coat from the floor. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome, and you know my door is always open.”
“I do,” I agree. When I was interviewing for teaching positions, Mrs. Thompson was the reason I wanted to work at PS 189. From the very moment I met her, I could tell she cared deeply about the students—she wasn’t jaded like some of the other principals I interviewed with. She didn’t just see her job as a job, she saw it as a way to make a difference in the world, which is the exact reason I wanted to be a teacher.
Shutting her office door, I say a quiet goodbye to Sammy as I pass her desk, seeing her nose buried in a folder she’s looking through.
“You, too, Fawn,” she mumbles back absently. Slipping on my coat, I button it up, then put on my hat and gloves before leaving the office, placing one earbud in so I can listen to my newest audiobook. Walking out of the school, I head up the block for the subway, where I fight for a place to stand on the train during the rush-hour commute. I don’t want to go home, but I still need to pick up Muffin so I can take her with me to my sisters’. My sisters think my apartment is being fumigated, which is why I need to stay with them. Yes, I lied to them, but there is no way in hell I could tell them the truth—that I’m hiding from Levi because like the idiot I am, I kissed him and made a fool out of myself.
As the train comes to a stop, I get off with the crowd, then make my way up the steps with everyone else to street level, where the air is at least twenty degrees cooler. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I tuck my hands into my coat pockets and walk with my head down to ward off the cold that’s nipping my cheeks. I growl under my breath as I watch a single snowflake fall onto the sleeve of my coat and melt. I hate when it snows in New York. I hate trudging through the slush and ice on the way to work. I know a lot of people love snow, and I a
gree it’s pretty to look at when it first falls, but after a couple of days on New York City sidewalks, it’s a disgusting mess.
Reaching my block, I breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see Levi—not that I thought he would be waiting for me, but with the way my luck has been going lately, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I ran into him. Yes, I know eventually I will have to face him, since moving is about as realistic an option as teaching abroad, but truthfully, I’m hoping if I avoid him long enough he’ll forget I even exist.
Punching in the code for the building, I swing the door open, close it behind me, then take the stairs as quietly and quickly as I can. I duck as I pass Levi’s door with my key out. As soon as I’m inside my apartment, I lock the door and head for my room with Muffin in tow.
“We need to pack, girl. We’re going to go stay with Mac and Libby for a couple days,” I explain as she presses her head under my hand, forcing me to pet her. Taking a seat on the side of the bed, I give her a rub, then grab both sides of her face. “I know you’re going to be mad at me, but I don’t think you’ll be seeing Levi much anymore.” Huffing, she falls to her bottom and tips her head to the side. “Sorry, girl, but it’s for the best,” I say, softly kissing the top of her head before I stand. Going to my closet, I pull down a bag, then shove a couple of outfits in it along with a pair of pajamas and my bathroom stuff. As soon as I’m packed, I grab Muffin’s leash from the closet, attach it to her collar, and head for the door, cursing myself stupid when I see Levi standing in the hall with his eyes on me. Why the hell didn’t I check the peephole? As much as I want to run back into my apartment and hide, I know I can’t, so I might as well just get this over with now. With a resonating sigh, I head in his direction.
“Hey,” he says, studying me with a soft look in his eyes that makes me even more upset about this whole thing.
“Hi,” I grumble, gritting my teeth as he takes my bags from me without asking.
“Are you taking her out?” he questions, looking at Muffin.
“Yes.”
“Are you leaving town?” he asks, holding up my bag.
Running Into Love Page 8
