Hot For Teacher(186)

I can’t bear to interrupt her, so I stand planted on the spot until she lifts her eyes to mine.

“Daniel,” she says with a dazzling smile that lights up the room. “Are you coming in?”

“Afternoon, Ms. Tillman.” I smile back at her while lowering my head, and enter the room.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really take the seat in the middle of the classroom where I normally sit. But sitting up close to her makes me panicky.

“Let’s move to the table in the back. I want you to feel comfortable with me. Forget I’m your teacher. Okay?”

Forgetting she’s my teacher? There’s no way in hell, but I nod my head and watch as she rises from her chair. She grabs a couple of papers from her desk and smiles up at me.

“How was football practice?”

Her question throws me. It’s casual, like we’re friends. My hands start to sweat even more. I can handle her as my teacher but a friend? That freaks me out and makes me want to run out the door.

“Um, coach went easy on us today at practice, since we have a game tomorrow.”

“Good. Nice to have a break. You seem ready.” Her cheeks turned pink at the words. “ Well, I saw you throwing yesterday when the cheerleaders were practicing on the track.”

She watched me.

I couldn’t suppress my grin if I tired. She smiles back and looks up into my eyes. “You’re kind of hard to miss.” She laughed.

“Everyone watches you. Shouldn’t be a big surprise. You’re a pretty big deal. Let’s get started, Mr. Football.” She walks past me and I smell her perfume’s heavenly scent.

I followed her back to the table and took a seat across from her. Her admission and slight teasing makes my palms less sweaty. Maybe I can endure being with her alone after all without making a complete fool out of myself.

“We don’t have a lot of time to work. So let’s get to it.” She wrestles some papers in front of her. I look at them closer and see that they’re the work I’ve turned into to her. I focus on the red marks and the big letter F written across them.

“Not my finest work.” I have no defense that I’m able to tell her about. I can’t admit that she’s too distracting for me to concentrate. That the dirty locker room talk from the guys about what they want to do with her and to her, also flows through my mind the entire time I sit in her class.

Yeah, I better can that shit.

“No, I don’t believe it is.” I watch her brows come together as she looks across the table at me. “I spoke with Ms. Brown. She said you did great in her class last year, and is surprised you’re having trouble now.”

“I’ll try harder.” I sigh and know I have to do better.

“I’m here to help you in anything I can.” Her words hang in the air and my horny body leads my mind into the gutter. It’s the word anything that gets me dreaming.

Snap out of Daniel.

“Thanks,” I say. “I need to work on concentrating.”

“I’d like for you to redo the work on these.” She taps the papers on the table. “But first I’d like to see if you decided on who your football hero is. Did you think of somebody?

I run my fingers through my still wet hair. How the hell am I going to tell her about my brother? He’s my hero even if he’s dead.

“Well, I have a family member that I grew up watching on the football field. But he’s dead now.” I end that comment without telling her the whole story of my brother’s suicide.

“I’m sorry to hear your relative is gone now. But you’re fortunate to have someone close to you that made a personal impact on your life,” she says in a comforting way.

“Thanks.” Please let this be the last of our conversation on this topic. I should’ve lied and told her about some random pro-player, but I can’t look into her blue eyes and lie. I feel like she’d see right through me.

“What about this man made an impact on your? Their work ethic and dedication? Or more their talent?” She tilts her head and waits for my answer, and I’m not sure I have one. “I’d really like for you to write about this man. Pretend that you’re him and on the field during a tough game.”

Discussing my brother leads me down a slippery slope that ends with my brother’s death and the disaster it made in my family. Not to mention the reason why my parent’s worries strangles me to this day. But I can’t avoid answering her.

Looking down to avoid her eyes, I begin. “It was my brother.” I hear her gasp and shoot my head up to see her eyes wide.

She knows.