Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
…I think there may be more dirty little secrets at Winchester than me and Emily.
“Alright, stay out of trouble, man. See you after school.”
“Later,” I mutter, clapping Jamison on the back as I turn to head into class.
I’ve got a problem. A big one. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit. I’ve tasted Emily Hayes. And now I just want more, come what may, and consequences be damned.
6
Ethan
Two. Fucking. Days. She manages to avoid me for two damn days.
I’m almost impressed.
I don’t even have her class on Tuesday, but on Wednesday morning, she even goes so far as to have one of the various teaching aides getting credit at a nearby college for working for free at Winchester to come in and run the lesson for her. Oh, the word is she’s got a cold, but I call major bullshit on that one. I know it’s all just her avoiding me.
But on the third day, when classes are over for the day, I spot her out in the parking lot. I’m packing my school shit into my saddlebag when I happen to glance over into the faculty lot next door and see my new favorite dark-haired teacher getting into a vintage Jeep Grande Wagoner—the old kind with the wood paneling and all that.
I grin when she starts the engine, swinging my leg over my bike and starting it as well. I keep my eyes on Emily as she drives off, and I pull out of the lot after her.
…Yep, I’m following her. And I don’t give a shit if I am.
But Emily doesn’t get far. In fact, she doesn’t even leave campus. I frown in confusion as she pulls into a side lot near the edge of campus, the engine turning off before she gets out and walks up to one of the small stone cottages that sit to this side of campus. I pull in after her and shut off my bike, my eyes catching the “parking for faculty housing only” sign.
I hop off the bike and jog over to where she’s trying to find the right key on her keychain, standing at the old wooden door of the Tudor-style cottage.
“Wait, you live on campus?”
She whirls, gasping and then blushing as her eyes focus on me.
“Did you just follow me?”
“Yes.”
She swallows.
“You shouldn’t do that, Ethan.”
I shrug. “I had some homework questions and didn’t see you at office hours.”
She arches her brow, a thin, amused smile on her pouty lips.
“I’m sure,” she drawls sarcastically.
I grin. “You know, this is kind of funny, actually.”
“What is.”
“That you live on campus and I don’t. Seems like it should be the reverse.”
She frowns. “You don’t live on campus?”
“No, I live in—” I make an ultra-serious face. “Weiss Manor,” I drawl in my best English butler voice.
Emily pales. “Celia Weiss is your mother?”
I frown, shaking my head. “Stepmother. Well, soon to be. She and my dad are getting married this year. That’s sort of what brings us back to Southworth.”
She swallows, her face still white.
“She’s kind of a big deal in this town,” Emily says quietly. “I mean Christ, she sits on the school board, Ethan.”
“How do you think a guy like me gets into a place like this?”
I grin, but she just holds my gaze, her mouth thin.
“What?”
“Do you always do that?”
I frown. “Do what.”
“Play the hopeless and uneducated outlaw card?”
“Huh?”
“I’m just saying, I’m not a psychologist, but I don’t have to be. You hide behind this broken bad boy image, but you’re a lot more than that.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, sure.”
Emily scowls at me. “You’re not an idiot.”
“Aww, thanks,” I grin, sarcasm dripping from my lips.
“Stop it, you know what I mean. I’ve—” She pauses, biting her lip and dropping her eyes.
“What?”
“I’ve seen your transcript,” she says flatly, looking up at me. “You have a flawless record.”
I smile thinly. “Aside from juvenile prison, sure.” I eye her, meeting her gaze.
“You looked at my transcript?”
“Yes.”
“Why.”
She doesn’t answer, and I step towards her.
“Why, Emily?”
“To prove what I already knew,” she hisses indignantly. “That you’re smart. And very talented, by the way.”
This time it’s my turn not to answer as our eyes meet.
“I saw the portfolio pieces you did at Lenox Hill. I’m not sure I know that school.”
“Well, that’s because it’s the kind of school where they come get you in the middle of the night, drag you away, and keep you locked up while they try and scare you straight.”
Her face falls, her brow caving.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t be, and I know you didn’t.”
I take a step closer to her, loving the way her breath catches when I do.
“Why are you really here, Ethan,” she whispers.
“You know why I’m here,” I growl back.
Emily glances around, swallowing.
“That is not happening,” she whispers fiercely.
“Says who.”
“Me, right now.”
Our eyes meet, and she shivers. And when I take another step right into her, she gasps.