Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

He worked at the CrossFit gym that my brother and I co-owned together. Croft taught classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at six in the morning.

While I taught classes at seven thirty in the morning those same days.

There was a lot of running into each other and him running into me here was the very last thing that I ever wanted to happen.

Yet… there he freakin’ was.

And better yet, he’d experienced my humiliation.

I turned my back on Croft and spotted my likely useless computer on the ground.

I walked over to it and picked it up, opening it up while also biting my lip hoping that it wouldn’t be broken like I knew it probably was.

But, no such luck.

It was broken as fuck, and there would likely be no saving this one.

Luckily, I had a great friend that dealt with computers on a daily basis, and he also happened to work at this school teaching computer technology classes. I could take the computer to him after school and see if he could salvage it.

“Well, rest assured that I’m fine. You both may leave,” I snapped, trying not to allow my eyes to roam over Croft’s sexy as sin body.

Croft wasn’t super in-your-face sexy. Well, not totally anyway.

In fact, if I had to rate him right now, I would say that he was an eight on his usual eleven scale.

When was he an eleven, you ask?

Well, surprisingly, it wasn’t when he was sweaty, in knit shorts and tennis shoes, working out at the gym.

Nope, it was when he came into the gym in his suit and ties, dressed to the nines when he was just getting off of work. Or going to work.

Or anywhere in between.

The man could fill out a pair of jeans. He could rock a polo shirt. He could also hold his own when it came to working out and having his abs on display.

But when he was in that suit? It was as if I lost my ability to think.

Luckily, right now he was only in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

So, still sexy, but also allowing me to retain the ability to produce coherent sentences.

“You need to report Abrams,” Croft murmured. “That was downright ridiculous. Even if it wasn’t you, a teacher should never, ever have to deal with that.”

I agreed.

A teacher should never fear for her own life like I did today.

But, saying that, I knew that Bryan Abrams was a troubled kid.

Out of all the students that I had in the class with me, I’d never have expected that of him.

“I’ll talk to him first,” I disagreed. “There’s something more going on there. Abrams doesn’t normally act like the other ones.”

At least, when I’d met him originally, he didn’t.

Now? Now he was different. I wasn’t quite sure what to think of him and his actions lately.

I knew that there was something more going on, but again, I didn’t know what. He wouldn’t open up to me, and it was beginning to make me frustrated.

Today could’ve been so bad. What was worse was it could’ve not only hurt me, but it would have ruined him.

And I wasn’t ready to give up on the kid just yet.

“You’re not talking to him,” both my brother and Croft said at the same time.

I tucked my computer under my arm, grabbed up the stack of papers that were on the corner of my desk, followed by my keys that were in my top drawer, and then started out the door.

“I’ll do whatever I want to do,” I said as I shouldered past Croft who hadn’t bothered to move out of my way. “Because you’re not the boss of me.” I paused when he caught my hand. Looking over my shoulder, I said, “You lost the right to touch me. Now let go.”

He must’ve seen just how serious I was because he dropped his hand and stared at me as if he didn’t know me.

Without another word, I left the room, heading straight for my friend, Alfie’s, room.

Maybe they wouldn’t follow me.

Sadly, I wasn’t that lucky.

CHAPTER 2

I don’t get why I’m not losing weight.

-Raleigh to Croft as she’s double fisting two donuts

CROFT

“What the fuck?” Flint growled as he stood there watching the empty room his sister had once occupied.

“My sentiments exactly,” I grumbled.

Flint looked at me as if I was the one to cause her outburst.

“You know, she used to be sweet.” He paused. “Until you fucked-up.”

He pointed his finger at me accusingly.

“I didn’t fuck up,” I argued. “I did nothing wrong! One day, we were supposed to go out on a date, and the next she’s looking at me like I’m the anti-Christ, and I’d eaten her last cookie.”

Flint shook his head. “I don’t know what you did, but you need to fix it. I miss my sister.”

I did, too.