Discipline

“How do you know?”

He laughed. “He was trying to hold in all his dirty thoughts but I got them out of him after a few drinks.”

“Dirty thoughts?” I couldn’t help staring at Daniel as I said this. At this point, he was anxiously trying to get out of the booth, perhaps to physically shut Mike up. Unfortunately for him, Linh’s five-foot-two frame stayed put, knowing well that he wouldn’t climb over her. He was stuck. Once he realized it, his eyes locked on me. “What kind of dirty thoughts?” I asked, my late-girl vodka giving me the gall to torment Daniel, keeping my eyes on his as I grilled Mike about his apparently filthy imagination. When Mike hesitated, I decided to make an offer. “If you tell me what he said that night, I’ll tell you everything you want to know about Linh.” Maybe.

He held a hand out. “Deal.”

I shook it with a glance towards Daniel. His jaw was flexing. There was hard disapproval in his eyes as he watched me, but just when I feared that I’d pissed him off, he shook his head with disbelief and broke into a grin – a defeated one that said damn it because there was nothing else he could do but watch. Looking skyward, he took a long swig of his drink.

“As his friend, let me preface all this by saying that he’s usually a complete gentleman, doesn’t curse or smoke or drink more than a couple beers,” Mike said. “He’s a disciplined motherfucker. Some shit about where he teaches. It’s like this conservative-as-shit gossip town with one of the top ten best school districts in the country, so he never says or does anything wrong, and he never will as long as he teaches in that stupid, goddamned hellhole. It’s just a bunch of bored, rich people with sticks up their asses, who’ll ruin you for doing anything even a little out of their ordinary.”

Trust me, I know.

Mike laughed. “That’s why it was good seeing him do a one-eighty last week. You were like a miracle worker in that little crocheted thing. You made the guy vulgar for once.”

Really. I blushed hard. “How so?” I asked as Daniel took another drink, Linh in his ear but his eyes fixed on me. His head began to shake again as Mike sucked a breath in between his big grin, giving him a look of apology before he spoke.

“All those little holes in your dress made him want to just… rip it the fuck in half, apparently.”

My eyes widened. Really now, Mr. Cole?

“From the front.”

My mouth dropped open. Off my reaction, Daniel promptly stood up, trying once again to get out of the booth but eventually letting Linh pull him back into his seat. He ran an anxious hand over his lips while eyeing me. The hot intensity of his expression made me squirm in my seat.

“You screwed him up that night,” Mike hooted. “The second he saw you through the window, he just stared and said, ‘Shit, she looks good.’ Something like that.”

“Seriously?” Had he caught my face at all or had he only seen me from the back? I was suddenly struck with the possibility that he’d been attracted to me before that day – back in Woodhill. But that would be so wrong.

Mike gave me a look. “You’re surprised? I get the sense that you have this effect on most guys considering you turned my mild-mannered friend into a fuckin’ dirty bastard that night. He was hating himself.”

I frowned. “That’s a little intense. Why would he hate himself?”

“I don’t know. Because he’s really not the kind of guy who thinks about like, what kind of panties a girl is wearing. Not aloud, at least. But he did that night. We already knew you weren’t, uh… wearing a bra.”

My eyebrows shot up. I totally flashed Mr. Cole headlights that night. Maybe that was why he looked for so long. “Oh God,” I exhaled, knowing I should be embarrassed. But for some reason, I wasn’t. I was too distracted by the heat rushing my body for different reasons. Reasons more to do with the fact that I’d turned Mr. Cole on, and so hard. It was supposed to be an impossible task.

Legs suddenly crossing, I bit my lower lip. “Go on,” I prodded Mike, glad that he didn’t notice my visible lust. He was entirely too drunk.

Unfortunately, Daniel wasn’t.

He squinted just briefly before one end of his mouth curled up at me. Shit. I was hot and bothered and he could tell. Suddenly, there was a different glint in his eye as he watched me. His tension was melting and becoming something else entirely. Enjoyment. Smug enjoyment. Oh God. I shook my hair into my face, feeling suddenly naked. But despite blushing with mortification, I couldn’t help noticing that the unfamiliar look on Daniel was incredibly sexy. His body was slack, relaxed as he studied me. Okay, breathe, really, breathe, I reminded myself as Mike continued.

“Well, we went to another bar afterward because he said he needed a drink. And me, the bartender, all these girls – we were trying to talk to him but he was all distracted and thinking about something else.”

“What?” My curiosity forced me to practically bounce in my seat. Across the table, Daniel half-jokingly thumped the table with his fist. He took in a deep breath, shaking his head as he mouthed something at me – with a little smirk, too. You’re gonna get it, he said. I blinked with surprise.

“What was he thinking about?” Mike laughed, biting his fist. “That school girl outfit of yours and, uh… well. Yeah, that was it.” He peered at me from the corner of his eye, blatant in his lie.

“Mike, tell me the rest!”

He heaved a guilty sigh, grimacing at himself. “Let’s just say Daniel wants to throw your legs over his shoulders and give you what your shitty ex couldn’t.”

“What!” My jaw dropped hard, prompting Daniel to pound the last of his drink and leap up in his seat. Linh popped up from hers with a surprised yelp.

“Shit – run!” Mike laughed.

And though he was joking, I did just that, giggling nervously as my heels took me through the crowd of button-ups and slinky dresses, and surprisingly quickly too. I didn’t stop until I reached the wall at the other end of the room, having nowhere else to go.