Always You (5 page)

He straightened up abruptly, giving me a tight smile. “I’ll see you next
week.”

Dalton

If not for her accident, she
would be a college student this year.

College. Not high school, but
college
.

Why did hearing her say that make me want to squirm? The same reason my
heart dropped when she thought I was just being nice for telling her she was
special. This girl was beginning to have an effect on me.

If Wrenn had been a freshman
in college when I was there, would I have . . . ?

It doesn't matter.
God, why am I even thinking that?
She's not in college, and I'm not back there, either. Besides, even if
things were different, god knows I don’t do relationships.

I shouldn't have stayed. My intentions at first were completely innocent,
and she'd given me no indication that she wanted anyone but someone to kill
time with.

But the more I sat there, trying to watch that damn movie, the more my
thoughts drifted to something more...inappropriate. Every shift she made on
that damn seat next to me, every toss of her hair—sending another wave of
her perfume my way—sent my mind into a spin. So many times I
thought—fuck, I'd even
hoped
—that she was going to make a
move. And as much as I wanted to invite her over to join me on the sofa, I kept
thinking of how wrong it would be and I just couldn’t do it.

For the entire two hours and sixteen minutes of
Rosemary's Baby
, I had an internal battle, back and forth, of
asking her to join me on the sofa, and then ripping myself apart in the debate
of how I'd tell her we couldn't cross that line. My head was one big mess.

Being alone in her house while
she was my student was a big fuck-up on my part, and I couldn’t let that happen
again. What if someone had seen me? I’d be out of a job so fast I wouldn’t know
what hit me, and I could kiss my entire career goodbye.

Besides, what the hell did I think was going to happen? How easy it had
been to forget the real reason my friends had called me “Solitaire” in college:
because I never spent more than one night with the same girl. I couldn’t do
relationships. I’d never had one, and I probably wouldn’t—not anytime
soon.

But she was different. And she had been through so
much. I couldn’t deny there was a connection, not to myself. The sorrow I’d
felt for her when she told me about losing her family—I’d so badly wanted
to take all the pain away. That urge to protect her was going to get me into
trouble. I had to be careful.

If I was being honest with myself, my career was the
least of my worries when it came to Wrenn.

***

The week passed by uneventfully. I focused on my work and tried to
minimize the number of creepy stares I sent Wrenn’s way during classes. Thank
God most of them were when she had her head down, focusing on her work, or
she’d have me up on a restraining order.

Paige and her snotty attitude toward Wrenn was beginning to irritate the
hell out of me. Several times I had to bite back comments that would have been
personal and downright nasty—
not
the way a teacher wants to react toward a student, but the way a man might
protect his woman.

Wrenn, of course, handled Paige’s nastiness the same way she always did:
by ignoring it and focusing on the things that were important to her. God, I
admired her strength so much.

Memories of my own childhood were brought back, flashing through my head.
Being picked on because of Dad’s disease had been frightening for a young kid.
But even worse was the shame I felt for myself for asking him to drop me off
around the corner from school, or to not attend my school events, all for fear
of being picked on.

I will never erase the image of him on the day I told him I didn’t want
him to come to my middle school graduation. The pain in his eyes would be
something that would haunt me forever. All because a couple of assholes made
fun of me because of his disability.

I’d broken his heart that day and I’d never forget how that felt.

***

The days seemed to be flying past, and by Friday
afternoon I was at home, getting ready to head back over to the teacher’s
lounge for a syllabus meeting. I decided to call Mom. I hadn’t spoken to her
more than a week, and I knew she liked hearing from me regularly. Picking up
the phone, I dialed her number.

“Dalton,” she said, sounding happy.

“Hey, Mom. How are you?” I asked, balancing the phone
in the nook of my shoulder as I buttoned up my shirt.

“I’m good, honey. Just leaving work now. How’s the job
going? Are you enjoying it? I hope everyone is being nice to you.”

“Work’s fine, Mom, and yes, everyone is great,” I
chuckled. All she needed to know was I was fine and happy. She didn’t need the
full, drawn-out story.

“Good. I told Layna to keep an eye on you, you know.”

“I’m aware of that, Mom,” I replied, amused.

“I worry about you. That will never stop, you
know
that. Especially when we don’t
know—”

“Mom, I’m fine. Stop worrying about me,” I said,
cutting her off. “I have to go, but I’ll call you soon, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

I hung up.

Sighing, I picked up the photo of Mom and Dad I had
sitting on the desk. It was taken before he’d started showing symptoms. At two,
I was supposed to have been in the photo, but wouldn’t sit still. Every image
came out the same: me running away, Mom with her hands on her head, and Dad
screaming after me. This was one of my favorite pictures because it reminded me
how important family was.

Wrenn

I was beginning to notice things that I knew were not just in my head:
the way he kept eye contact with me for half a second longer than he did everyone
else, the fact that he would find any excuse to come over to the house. We
could sit and talk for hours about nothing, and everything. He was still
professional, he was still my teacher, but out of class he had become my
friend.

Tonight, I was going to test this. He either felt something or he didn’t,
and if he didn’t, then I’d be spending the rest of the semester embarrassed as
hell every time I had to walk into that classroom.

“Anyone home?” I called out, dropping my books on the hall table.

Silence greeted me. My heart thumping, I made my way into Layna’s office.
I walked over to her desk and sat down, with no idea where to start. The
slightest noise made me jump, because I was so sure I was going to get caught.
I’d make the
worst
burglar.

I flicked though some papers and found nothing. The filing cabinet;
nothing. The desk drawers; nothing. I was losing hope of ever finding what I
needed when I saw it.

Her phone
. She was forever leaving it
at home. This was perfect. Her phone was the best chance of finding what I was
looking for.

Picking it up, I clicked my way to Contacts and scrolled down to
Reid
.

And there it was. My hands shook as I copied the number into my phone. A
voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me.
What the hell are you doing?
I clicked out of Contacts and
navigated my way back to the main screen, setting the phone down exactly where
I’d found it, right down to the angle it had been at.

Even once upstairs in the safety of my room, my heart was still racing. I
sat down cross-legged on my bed, staring at the number.
His
number. Was I really going to do this? What if he brushed me
off? I took a breath and dialed before I could change my mind.

“Hello?”

Oh my God.
His voice sent chills
through my body. I nearly ended the call. My voice wouldn’t work, and I was
beginning to sweat.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“Uh, hi,” I managed.
Fuck, I’m an
idiot.

“Who is this?” he asked, his voice curious.

I slapped my hand over my face.
Oh God, kill me now.
This was
getting worse by the minute.

“It’s Wrenn.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. And guarded. “Can you hold for a moment?”

“Uh, sure,” I mumbled. This was going really bad. I heard the muffled
sound of him talking to someone. A few seconds passed, and then the sound of a
door shutting.

“Sorry. I was . . . in a meeting. Are you okay?” he sounded concerned.

I felt so embarrassed. In what stupid fantasy had this seemed like a good
idea? He was my teacher, he was five years older than me, and more than that,
he was hot, sexy, and capable of getting
any
girl he wanted. Why would he be interested in
me
?

“Wrenn?”

“Um, I’m sorry. This was stupid . . . ”

“What is it?” he pressed. Great. Now he sounded amused, like he thought
this was funny.

Kill me now
. I sighed. I already looked
like a fool. How much worse could this get?

“
Psycho
is playing over in
Hallbrook tonight, and I wondered if you wanted to go,” I practically shouted
the words down the phone. I slapped my hand over my mouth, so completely
embarrassed.

“With you?” he asked, astonished.

“No, with the gardener,” I retorted.

He chuckled, probably at the thought of grumpy old Mr. Landen enjoying
anything in life, let alone a movie.

“Look, I just thought it might be something you’d like to do, you know,
as friends, but it’s probably a really bad—”

“Okay,” he said, cutting me off.

Huh?
Did I just hear correctly?

“Okay?” I repeated, stunned. Surely I must’ve heard him wrong.

“Yes. It’s probably best you meet me there, though,” he added
awkwardly.
 

“Yeah, sure. So it starts at seven. I will meet you there ten minutes
before?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Yep. I was grinning like an idiot.

Hanging up the phone, I fell back on the bed.

Holy shit.

A wave of nausea ran over me. What the hell was I going to wear? I jumped
up and ran down to the bathroom, turning on the taps as I stripped out of my
uniform. After soaping myself up, I stood under the stream of water, trying to
calm my nerves.

He just sees me as a friend.
He probably feels sorry
for the poor little orphan with no friends.
No matter how often I kept
repeating it to myself, a small part of me wanted to scream at the top of my
lungs. There was no stopping that part of Wrenn from getting her hopes up. That
part of me kept piping up with ridiculous thoughts. Things like,
why would he risk his job to meet you for a
movie if he just wanted friendship?

Stepping out of the shower, I dried my hair and tied it back into a loose
bun, my bangs falling forward and covering my forehead. I wrapped a towel
around me and walked back to my room. Now I had to decide what to wear.

I shuffled through my underwear drawer for my nicest bra and thong; a
cream-colored French lace set Kass had given me for my birthday, all the way
from a trendy Paris boutique.

I was anything but a slut. I had no intention of letting anyone see my
underwear today, or anytime soon, for that matter, but I felt good wearing it.
Over the top of the bra I slid a dusky pink silk tank, which I paired with my
skinny jeans, calf-high black boots, and my warm short black woolen jacket. Finally,
I picked out a smoky gray eye shadow that made my eyes look bigger, and a soft
pink lip-gloss.

Perfect: I looked sexy, yet casual enough for a movie with a friend. I
grabbed my purse and raced downstairs to the kitchen.

On top of the counter, I scribbled a note:

Going out with Kassia, will
be home by curfew.

Wrenn xx

I had a pretty decent curfew, considering I rarely had anywhere to
go—midnight on weekends, and eleven on school nights, with staying over
at Kass’s fine anytime, as long as Layna knew where I was.

That was the only time when being the headmistress’s niece came in handy.
While any of the girls could leave for the night if they had parental
permission, it was much easier for me to obtain if I just needed some space.

I climbed into my car and plugged the theater into my GPS. Hallbrook was
two towns over, about a thirty-minute drive. The location was far away enough
that we were unlikely to be spotted, especially since tonight was dinner night
at the house for staff. Another reason I was surprised he had said
yes
.
What would he tell my aunt?

It sure as hell wouldn’t be the truth.

***

I pulled up outside the theater
with five minutes to spare. Reaching into my purse, I clasped my hand over my
compact, bringing it up to my face to check my makeup. I didn’t wear it often,
so it felt weird wearing it now, like there was something on my eyes that I
needed to scratch off.

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the entrance, looking around for
Dalton. I spotted him standing to the left of the ticket box. His eyes lit up
when he spotted me.

God, he looks so hot.

He wore faded blue jeans and a black leather jacket over a gray T-shirt.
His tousled light brown hair looked perfect, and his eyes were so blue I felt
like I’d fall into them if I stared for too long.

“Hey, Wrenn.” He smiled, his eyes so focused on mine, like he didn’t
trust himself to let them wander over my body. The thought sent shivers down my
spine.

“Hey,” I said warmly. “We should probably get our tickets.” I glanced
around the deserted entrance and frowned. “Though I would have expected more of
a crowd.” I walked up to a rather uninterested looking dude sitting in the
booth.

“Hi. Two tickets for
Psycho
,” I
said.

“Wrong day, honey. That’s tomorrow night.”
Shit.
I turned around to see Dalton chuckling behind me. My desire
to punch the ticket guy for calling me “honey” was washed away by my
embarrassment about getting the day wrong.

“It’s not funny,” I grumbled, my cheeks glowing red. “I feel like an
idiot.” I was such a tool. Who gets the freaking day wrong?

“Come on, it is pretty funny.” He tugged at my arm, making me look up at
him. His smile was contagious, and pretty soon we were both laughing.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

I shook my head.

Food? No, I’d been way too
nervous for food.

“Okay. Let’s get some dinner. There’s a place just up off the highway
that does a pretty decent meal. We can go in my car.”

I nodded, following him, not quite able to comprehend that I was about to
get in his car—alone.

Just him and me.

“Nice,” I murmured, running my finger along the bonnet of the red Mazda
rx7.

He razed his eyebrows, amused.

“What?” I said teasingly, “I’m not allowed to like cars?”

“No, it’s not that at all.” He shook his head. “It’s just not many girls
your age would even know what this is.”

“My age?” I scoffed. “You’re only a few years older than me.”

“Six,” he corrected, his eyes twinkling. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Actually, smartass, five,” I shot back.

“You’re eighteen?” he said, his jaw dropping.

“Yes.” I smirked. “Remember? I’m repeating this year. That makes me
eighteen, and legal in many countries for various activities.”

We both fell silent as we climbed into the car.
Did I really just say
that?

God, I needed a gag; anything to stop me talking. I buckled up my
seatbelt, loving the feel of the low seats.

“You sure you can handle this
thing?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

He winked at me as he revved the engine before slamming it into gear. I
laughed as we took off down the street, smoke ripping up under the wheels.
“Sorry. I guess I should be acting a little more responsibly, huh?” he
chuckled, his eyes bright with excitement.

“I don’t know, I’m liking this side of you. And besides, it’s the
weekend. You have to let your hair down sometime.” I liked the idea of him
letting his guard down around me. It told me that he didn’t see me as a
student. The thought made my stomach somersault.

***

“So, tell me about you. You love fast cars and horror movies; what else
is there to know about Mr. Reid?” I asked, licking the last of possibly the
best chocolate mousse I’d
ever
experienced off my spoon.

“Well, for one, my name is Dalton,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Okay, Dalton.” I giggled.
Dalton
.
I loved that name.

“It’s just my mom and I. Dad died when I was fifteen. I’ve always wanted
to be a teacher, though originally I wanted to go with elementary.”

“Why did you go with high school?” I asked curiously.

He shrugged. “Last minute decision,” he said with a smile.

I laughed. “Oh, I bet you’re regretting that now,” I teased.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He looked at me innocently, and then his
face broke into a smile. “Okay, teaching teenage girls is pure hell.”

I giggled. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. A couple of hundred girls, all
thinking you’re a god? That’s got to boost the ego.”

“A couple of hundred girls all under the age of eighteen,” he corrected
dryly.

“I’m not,” I said lightly, surprised by what was coming out of my mouth.

“Yeah, well you’re the exception,” he said.

The exception
. I liked being the exception.
I met his gaze, his eyes burning into mine. My face began to heat. How could I
not read into things when he was staring at me like that? I felt naked under
his gaze.

Had I imagined the change in his behavior since he found out I was
eighteen? Did that make a difference as to how off-limits I was?

“You know, given the right circumstances, we could have almost crossed
paths in college,” I began, my tone light. “I mean, if I was in college this
year, and you had continued with your studies, like a PhD or something.”

He nodded, those deep blue eyes boring into mine. “Do you have a point?”
he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Would you have batted an eyelid at going out
with a freshman? Probably not. I guess I’m just saying under different
circumstances . . . ” I let my voice trail off, hoping it sounded deliberate.
In truth, words had deserted me.