Page 17 of Her Forbidden Teacher

She swipes at a rogue tear and her bottom lip wobbles. “I didn’t do it, Theo. A friend of mine took a photo I sent her in confidence and showed it to Mr. Thompson from an accountwith my name.” She covers her face with both hands and then starts to sob. “I didn’t do it. I swear. You have to believe me.”

“Shhh,” I murmur as I pull her to me for a much-needed hug. “I believe you. You’re a good girl.”

She hugs my middle tight. I note how perfect she feels in my arms. Like she belongs in them.

“It was supposed to get quietly swept under the rug. My punishment was public school and living with my mom. But then Lucy told everyone on the first day of school when I didn’t show up. Now everyone thinks I’m a whore who was having an affair with her teacher.” She winces and then pulls away from my hug. “Sorry. I, uh, shouldn’t have hugged you.”

I step away to grab a box of tissues. Then, I hand them to her. “I hugged you, Addison. You don’t have to take the blame for something you didn’t do.”

She dabs at her eyes and smiles. “Of course, my only friend would be someone I shouldn’t be friends with. At least I’m eighteen now. That makes it a little less dramatic.”

I’m grateful too.

I’m also a little sick in the head that her age never crossed my mind until she brought it up in this conversation. All those fantasies over this past weekend while I jerked off…I’m a fucking monster.

“We can be friends,” I assure her. “What happens in Greenhouse Club stays in Greenhouse Club.”

She giggles. “Is that aFight Clubreference? You’re such a dorky old man.”

“Thirty-seven isn’t that old.”

There it is. Out in the open. She’s eighteen and I’m old as fuck. No more pretending our age gap doesn’t exist. I also can’t ignore the desire to be close to her, hanging on every word that tumbles out of her pouty lips.

“Old enough to be my dad,” she teases.

When I gape at her, horrified, she cackles with laughter. Soon, I’m laughing too. She’s right. Sassy is her middle name. I’m happy to see this side of her. For the past week since I’ve known her, she’s been so sad and withdrawn. A victim.

Like you?

It hurts thinking of myself as a victim in Mary Ellen’s cruelty, but it’s true. And, until starting at Brown High, I’d been withdrawn. Lonely as hell, too.

“I’m sorry your dad didn’t believe you,” I say, bringing a serious note back to our conversation. “That pisses me off if we’re being honest here.”

She shrugs. “Dad means well. He’s a good father.”

I’m not sure if I agree with that statement.

“I know how it feels to be dismissed,” I admit. “My ex-wife treated me like my thoughts and concerns and problems didn’t matter. Eventually, I started to believe that.”

Her eyes water again but tears don’t fall this time. “Thank you. For believing me. My brother Cason was the only one.”

We fall into an easy routine as we prep containers for class tomorrow. Then, we make a list of all that needs to be done for the events planned for Greenhouse Club. When we finish up and pack up for the day, I have a hard time saying goodbye. Like a lost puppy, I follow her all the way back to her car.

After she sets her stuff inside the vehicle and gets the AC blasting, she turns to face me. There’s a smudge of dirt on her face. I reach forward and gently swipe it away, allowing my thumb to stroke softly and slowly over her flesh. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips part.

God, I want to kiss her.

Thank fuck I don’t, though.

She needs a friend. Not another person trying to exploit her.

It’s not exploiting her if you truly have feelings for her and she feels the same way…

I clear my throat and nod my head at her car. “See you tomorrow, Addison.”

“Bye, Theo. Thanks for today. It means more than you know.”

“…like you have an admirer.”