Followhill made me almost as uncomfortable as his mother did. Only difference was his mom inspired fear in me, while he poked at my most sensitive spot. He made me feel embarrassed.
That could be because my eyes always drifted his way while I taught his Lit class. Like a moth to a flame, I always noticed him, even when I didn’t want to. I was worried he knew that too. That I was looking at him in a way I shouldn’t be when he was dicking around, messing with his phone.
Not like a teacher.
But like a woman.
“I said I dented your car.” His blue eyes shimmered with intensity.
Why was he doing this? And why the fuck did I care? This kid received more pocket money than I had in all my savings combined. If he wanted to shoulder this, I should just accept.
Was it a better grade he was after? Doubted it. Jaime was a senior on his way out the door. I’d heard his rich ass had landed a spot at an excellent Texas university (see: Mommy Dearest), where he’d play football and probably fuck his way into some kind of a man-whore Guinness World Record.
“You did,” I said, swallowing. “And right now, I’m running late. Please step out of my way.”
We mentally shook hands on that lie, our eyes hard on one another. I had a feeling I was digging a hole. A hole in which I was about to dump a ton of dark shit that’d land me in hot trouble. I was striking a deal with the devil’s spawn. Even though I had a good eight years on him, I knew who he was.
One of the Four HotHoles.
A self-centered, privileged princeling who ruled this town.
Jaime took another step my way, his body flush with mine. His breath skated over my face. Mint gum, aftershave, and musky male sweat that made me oddly heady. I was so unprepared for this that my face twitched.
I took a step back.
He took a step forward.
Bending his head down, he moved his lips close to mine. To my horror, my knees buckled, and I knew exactly why.
“I owe you,” he murmured darkly. “And I’ll make sure you get to cash in on that debt. Soon. Very soon.”
“I don’t need your money,” I sputtered, my womb tingling with fuzzy warmth.
His mesmerizing eyes widened, and he flashed me a dimpled smirk. “It’s not money I’m going to give you.”
How could someone so young be so arrogant and self-assured? I felt his thumb stroking my stomach, barely touching, teasing, making me quiver through the thin fabric of my dress. It was like he’d shoved his whole fist into me and attacked my mouth with his.
I licked my lips and blinked, astonished.
Holy shit.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Jaime Followhill was hitting on me. Blatantly. In the parking lot. In plain sight.
I wasn’t a troll. I still had a dancer’s body after all, green eyes, a nice California tan, and soft chestnut curls. But I didn’t exactly give the cheerleading crowd a run for their money.
Tripping backward, I swallowed a groan, feeling my pulse everywhere, eyelids included. “That’s enough, James. Drive safely, and please be sure to do your homework for tomorrow,” I had the audacity to say.
I tucked myself back into my Ford, and then accidentally bumped my car into the Range Rover one more time before I fled the scene, smearing the ugly dent into a long, wide scratch. From the rearview mirror, I watched as he cocked his eyebrows at me in a challenge.
I drove so fast I swore my curls transformed into a dramatic blow-out by the time I parked under my building.
At home, I slouched on my couch in front of my phone and waited for Principal Followhill to call and tell me she was firing my ass and suing me for every single penny that I had. Or in my case didn’t have.
Long hours passed, but the call never came. I crawled into bed and closed my eyes at ten p.m. but couldn’t sleep to save my life. All I thought about was that gorgeous asshole, Jaime Followhill.
How he smelled like the hottest guy I’d ever been near.
How he looked like the most delicious thing in the world when he rubbed his tan six-pack.
How he helped me out of a shitty situation without flinching, knowing that his mother would probably crush me for this, and now…he wanted something back.
On paper, he was still a kid, but every other part of him felt like a man this afternoon.
It so defied logic, it was unnerving, almost infuriating when I thought about it.
This morning, I’d woken up with the impression that I hated the Followhills.
But after this afternoon, there was no denying it—there was at least one Followhill I wanted to get very friendly with.
HERE WAS ALL YOU NEEDED to know about Todos Santos: it was the richest town in California and, as a direct result, home to the most entitled teenagers in the world. My students knew I couldn’t fail them. Their parents had enough power to strip me of my citizenship and banish me to an oxygen-deprived planet. These kids did whatever they wanted during class, much to no one’s surprise.