Discipline

He eyed me for a second, probably because I sounded flirtatious. I didn’t mean to but I was drunk and equipped with the kn

owledge that he might’ve imagined me in lingerie, so I couldn’t help it. And he looked so damned good. Back in high school, he titillated girls in a blue button-up and slacks. Now, in dark jeans and a V-neck sweater with the sleeves pushed up, I was about ready to pass out with lust.

“Your friends?” He glanced at his plaid-shirted buddy, who was thunderously refusing to believe that Linh was single. “I think we both know they’re not the problem here,” he said with a quiet laugh. It was low and inadvertently sexy. The sound alone made me grip my chair to keep from falling off. I opened my mouth to respond but I was suddenly pulled into Plaid Guy’s conversation.

“Are you single?” he asked me. “Miss Ass-To-Waist Ratio?”

“Mike.” Mr. Cole grimaced. He shot me an apologetic look before squeezing his eyes shut for a second and massaging between them. I guessed that this was his nightmare. There were younger teachers who were still willing to curse or allude to sexual matter in class, but Mr. Cole never mentioned anything remotely inappropriate. His professionalism was unbreakable. Or supposed to be.

“Oh, like you don’t want to know if she’s single, you little shit.” Mike grinned. “You were staring at her through the window before,” he said before turning to me. “He was staring at you through the window before.”

My laugh was awkward as Mr. Cole covered his handsome face and shook his head. “I’m… sure he wasn’t,” I said, though I hoped the opposite. It was just my way of saying, Don’t worry, I get that you simply recognized me and weren’t checking me out.

“No, but he was,” Mike insisted. “You should’ve heard the shit he was saying to go with it.”

My eyebrows shot up, my curiosity more than piqued. What? Mr. Cole groaned into his palm before shooting Mike a sexier-than-it-should-be death look, which went ignored.

“And this was before he found out that you give your hot friends lap dances while wearing schoolgirl outfits.”

Adriana’s eyes twinkled devilishly. “Well, shoot. Tell us what he said.”

Finally, Mike hesitated. “Uh… okay, I would but this guy looks like he’s about to murder me now and I’ve seen him beat the shit out of dudes three times his size, so…”

Again, what? Another surprise. I looked at Mr. Cole, who was already looking at me for my reaction. That made my heart jump. I managed a nod as he shook his head again, trying to brush off Mike’s words.

“Of course he’s beaten the shit out of people, it would be a sin to let those muscles go to waste, right?” Adriana asked, directing her question to me. She delighted when I blushed and turned back to Mike with a shimmer in her eyes. “Anyway, to answer your question, Nina is single.” She wet her lips in a way that made me warier than usual. “Yeah, she just ditched the world’s most possessive asshole with the biggest ego and tiniest little baby dick, so if you friend is up for giving her a much needed O – ”

“Adriana!” Even Linh gasped with me.

“ – that doesn’t require her to do all the damned work for once – ”

Em clamped her hand over Adriana’s mouth but not before she got out a few more words about my preferred positions in bed. By the time she’d suggested the “seated scissor,” I was already up and zipping towards the bathroom, unsure of what else to do with myself as every inch of my body seared with embarrassment.

I only had time to turn on the cold water before a knock came at the door. I groaned. “Ade, I know you’re pissed at me for being MIA for so long, but – ” I stopped my sentence once I swung open the door.

I stared in surprise at Mr. Cole, who seemed just as surprised that he’d gotten up to follow me.

“Nina,” he started, though his gaze suddenly dipped to the full view of my dress. He quickly tore it away but I blinked with surprise, a nervous but excited tickle climbing up my back. It was my first time actually seeing him check me out, and it was as wildly flattering as it was hard to process. It made me wish that we were in Woodhill, so I could better feel the context of this moment. Mr. Cole just checked me out. Yes, that Mr. Cole. My junior year at the library, he’d circled and stood next to me before helping me gather a stack of papers I’d dropped in the library — his expert way of avoiding eye contact with my cleavage as I bent down. He was impossibly and frustratingly professional, so it was hard to process that he’d just stared at my chest for longer than a second.

But in all fairness, my boobs were stretching the little holes below the bust of my crochet dress. They were certainly calling for more than their fair share of attention. Not that he wasn’t doing something similar to me. I couldn’t help staring as he reached back to rub the stress from his neck, his bicep flexing under his sleeve and pulling it tight.

“Nina,” he finally said again, his voice back to the one he used to use in class. Damn it. He slid his hands into his pockets and gathered himself. “I’m sorry for… putting you in such an awkward situation. You shouldn’t have had to hear all that.”

He was trying hard to be proper for me and fight through his drunkenness, but I could tell that it was difficult. It made me want to giggle but I held it in. “Don’t apologize,” I said softly, stepping out into the little, dark corridor, lit with a single vintage lamp on the wall. “It was my friend, really.”

“Well. Mine wasn’t exactly innocent either, so I apologize on his behalf. We were just at a few bars before we came here, we’re not usually this… disorderly.”

Disorderly. He glanced at me when I almost snorted at the word. He was using teacher speak with me and it just sounded odd considering where we were. His smile was sheepish as my narrowed eyes teased him for it.

“Mr. Cole, you’re allowed to be out. And you didn’t do anything remotely disorderly.” I couldn’t help giggling at his need to stay so professional on a Friday night, forty miles from home. Nor could I help being excited by the fact that he was as drunk as I’d suspected he was. “You should, though,” I dared to say.

A wary grin touched the corners of his lips. “Should what?”

“Do something disorderly.” As I leaned against the wall, I could see his eyes getting heavy from the bourbon I smelled on his breath, once again struggling to stay on my face as I arched my back just slightly. I bit back my satisfaction, guilty but delighted by the fact that his self-control was clearly surrendering to the combination of alcohol and stretching crochet. With fascination, I watched him watch me. “We’re not in Woodhill. You’re allowed to be out and drinking with friends. It’s not a crime.” I’d been repeating the same line to myself all night. “And even if it were, I wouldn’t tell on you.”

He broke into a low, sexy laugh. “Yeah.” He nodded, somewhat squinting at me for a second with what looked like curiosity. “Guess it’s hard to shake Woodhill sometimes. Feels like they’re always watching.”

I nodded as I exhaled, resting my own languid eyelids for a moment as I thought about why I’d even stayed with Ben for so long. I’d wanted out after the first eight months but stupidly, I stayed, and for all the wrong reasons. “Yeah. Can’t do anything scandalous or they’ll come after you,” I murmured. I heard him give a little laugh.