All the Different Ways Page 17

  A shiver ripples through me.

  “Are you cold?” Cullen’s lips brush my hair.

  “No, just thinking. I’m good.”

  I lean up on my arms and just look at him. His beauty still makes my head spin now as much as it did the first day he walked into my room at Vista. Hair so dark, jaw square and strong, eyelashes perfectly thick.

  “You’re smiling. Are you still a little fuzzy?” He’s playing with the ends of my hair, trying to tickle me with them, but all he’s doing is sending satisfying tingles down my spine.

  “Nope. All cleared up. Are you good?”

  “Always,” he kisses the tip of my nose. “We didn’t start Season 7 and now it’s late.”

  “I’m not worried about it,” I respond after shifting up over him lengthwise. His skin is incredibly hot and taut next to mine, quite different from the cushions we’ve been occupying. A breeze wafts over my backside and it’s chilly except for where Cullen’s hands are.

  “I have to go home,” I nibble along the line of hair below his chin.

  His body shifts at my hip, while his fingers paint up and down my lower back, “I know, but I want you to stay.”

  “I know,” I echo, “but I can’t.” I work on his ear lobe.

  Cullen hisses. “You know, it wouldn’t be terrible, for these kinds of situations, if you had a few things here.”

  I pause at his ear. All the different ways this situation could go badly rush through my mind at once. Neither of us stays over—ever. We go back home. Sleeping together all night is either the next step towards forever or the final undoing before one of us walks out the door for good. Both make us nervous, neither one we’re ready for.

  I try to control my breathing and not give away that I’m silently at odds. It could be natural to have, say, at least a toothbrush here, hmm?

  I give the best response, and dismissal, I can think of—“Ok.”

  Cullen turns his head to the side and captures my lips with his. I settle into it, calming down within seconds as nothing’s been decided. I focus on his powerful lips and roaming hands, the warmth creeping up through my thighs and—

  “Alright,” he reluctantly agrees, “I know you have to go. At least we have work tomorrow.”

  “Dammit,” I drop my head down on his chest and grumble while Cullen’s chuckle vibrates through me.

  EIGHTEEN

  Violet

  I detour to Renee’s room with my double shot of espresso. After my late night on Cullen’s Magical Deck, I was aiming for “dress casual” today. Besides my usual makeup, which I won’t walk out of my house without, there’s a long French braid making a light swooshing down the back of my sleeveless tee dress and a gentle tapping noise as my sandals pat the floor.

  Renee looks over from drawing a goofy-looking old guy on her white board.

  “You look cute; I like that dress.”

  “Thanks, I went online shopping. The best shopping there is!”

  “Hmm. New clothes and caffeine I can smell all the way over here. I wonder what that could mean,” she smiles coyly.

  “Uh, that I like cute shit and I’m tired?”

  “Ha! Goes without saying. And what could possibly be making our sweet Violet so tired?”

  I smile lovingly and ignore her question.

  “Mmm hmm. So, what are you doing down here in the dungeons of Chaucer and Thoreau?”

  “Just missed ya. Thought we could make plans. Maybe you want to come to the game with me on Friday.”

  “Oh god, she’s making plans for football games. Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s do that. Ben can entertain the kids,” she laughs and I roll my eyes.

  “Ok, cool,” I start backing out the door. “Oh, and by the way, Einstein didn’t wear glasses, honey.” I point to her dry-erase portrait.

  “It’s Stephen King!” she shouts.

  I can hear my own laugh echoing behind me as I make my way to the stairs. I forgot how freeing it is to feel lighthearted. With an outlook of cheerfulness, I jog up to the second floor and unlock my door. Pierre greets me with turtle splashes and the classic frown of a reptile. The silliness of it keeps me grinning, and I pause to toss in some shrimp sticks and talk to him about his weekend.

  I know Cullen is at my door even before he knocks, I can feel his presence, but I pretend I’m oblivious. He probably should still have to work for some of my attention. He taps on the doorframe and I turn my head to see him leaning against the jam.

  “Hey, Beautiful, whatcha doin’?”

  “Pierre was very talkative this morning, so I thought I’d give him a few minutes to vent. Seems to be some gossip in the turtle world,” I wink.

  In two smooth glides, Cullen manages to wrap me up and pull me close.

  “He must be using sign language. You look gorgeous in this dress. The boys won’t be able to concentrate. Better make ‘em keep their hands on top of their tables.”

  “Eww!” I playfully smack his arm. This time, he feigns injury, and I have to roll my eyes. “Thanks for that. What about you Sexy Social Studies teacher in your blue button up and grey pants? Any girls slide off their chairs in class lately? How about ask you for tutoring?”

  “Oh, please, I don’t even notice,” he traces my nose with his. “You’re the one I want.”

  I sigh, “And the universe continues to baffle me.”

  I get a soft, warm kiss that temporarily fogs my brain.

  “Some things just are the way they are, Miss Master of Science.”

  “Thank you for clearing that up for me, Coach.” His lips feel so good, I just have to kiss him again. “Renee and I are coming to your game Friday.”

  “You mean my girlfriend will finally be at one of my games?”

  “Hey! I’ve been to a game, just not as your girlfriend. Should I prance down to the sideline and make out with you at the fence for good luck? Maybe pull on your whistle and kick up my heel?”

  “Maybe not at the game, but we can always sneak in later,” he draws me in even closer. I giggle like a teenager.

  “Ok, Handsome, stop right there,” I squirm a little in laughter and it doesn’t help Cullen’s growing arousal. “We’ve got kids coming in here in five minutes.” I motion to his pants.

  Cullen looks down, shrugs, and then gives me an amused smile, “He likes you, too, what can I say?”

  “I,” I draw out the pronoun as I back away, “am going to set up for today since I only have a few minutes. You,” I point as sternly as I can without laughing, “need to figure that out.” I glance down below his belt and then back up to his twinkling eyes.

  Motioning to his own pants, Cullen concedes, “Ok, my man here and I will take the long way—no pun intended—back to our room so you can prep. I’ll see you later, Violet.”

  “Bye, Cullen.”

  ***

  “People! You’re all geared up to argue, but not one of you is making me care!”

  My last block of AP Bio settles into whispers and then a few random shuffles, but essentially becomes quiet.

  “Diversity is naturally occurring. We’ve all agreed on that, right?”

  From my perch on an empty lab table, I can see everyone nodding or mumbling in accordance with my statement. Odd movement catches my eye before I continue, “Eric, put your hands on the table. So if this is our claim, where is the evidence? That’s where you come in. Research. Directions are on my homepage for your partner assignment.”

  Grumbling ensues, along with paper shuffling and backpack zipping.

  “Mrs. B., you know diversity happens on its own. So do we. Why we gotta prove it?”

  I turn towards the questioner and see Cullen peering in the sliver of window in my door. My heart skips a beat and then accelerates. I release a slow smile that doesn’t go unnoticed by some of the girls in my room who have followed my stare. I’m sure this will trend on social media at some point. Someone coughs, and my attention goes back to where it is supposed to be.

  “Jarrod, do you like
to watch movies?”

  “Oh yeah, I love movies.”

  “Great! What kind? Action, comedy, romance?” That gets a few giggles from my captive audience.

  “Horror, actually,” he stretches forward, clutches the front of his lab table, and looks around for approval.

  I smile, “Ok, horror movies. Gets the arm around the ladies, huh?” All of us, including Jarrod, laugh. I casually start to walk towards the door. “So, joking aside, let’s say that you go to the movies and you see the crappiest horror movie you could imagine. I mean, the acting sucks, the music sucks, the popcorn sucks.”

  I get more chuckles and release the doorknob. Cullen’s soap is the first thing to reach me, second is his heat. I want to reach through the opening and grab his hand, but I stay still, continuing with my point. “Everything about the whole movie just sucks. But, then, you come to school and Keegan thinks it was awesome. He loved everything about it—including the popcorn. Now what?”

  Everyone looks around at each other as if they aren’t sure what to do. Cullen crosses his arms, but I hold mine straight out to the sides. “It’s not rhetorical, people! Whom do you believe? Jarrod, who says the movie sucked, or Keegan, who says it was awesome?”

  Annabeth raises her hand, “I’d go with Keegan’s opinion.”

  “That’s because you’re going out with Keegan!” Nick counters, and the class laughs again. “I’d listen to Jarrod cuz he’s my bro.”

  I roll my eyes, “Come on, guys, this is AP Bio, not kindergarten. Talk it out like adults.”

  I turn to Cullen as other students start audibly working through the movie problem and countering their friends’ opinions. Thankfully, I start hearing things like “Prove it!” and “Where’s your evidence?” as my attention veers elsewhere.

  “What’s up, Handsome?” I whisper. He’s using those molten chocolate eyes of his to sear through me and make my mind hazy. I have to brace myself with the door handle on one side and the counter top on the other to keep from falling out into the hallway onto the chiseled chest I know is hidden beneath that shirt.

  “I just need to see you in the hallway for a minute.”

  “Um, I have a class.”

  “I know, but it’s just gonna take a second.”

  I can’t resist the innocent gleam in his eyes or his little half-smile, so I give my kids a one-minute warning and slip out the door.

  “What’s going on?” I ask in a low voice.

  Cullen looks around and then without warning, presses me up against the wall with his hard body. “Cullen” is all that escapes before his sexy mouth slants over mine and his scorching tongue blisters its way along my bottom lip. He hums his approval before taking a step back. I whimper at his absence. I’m breathless and he’s smiling like a fool.

  “Are you shitting me, Metz? You expect me to walk back in there after that kiss? They’re gonna see right through me! I’m a pile of goo over you right now!” I whisper-shout.

  Cullen chuckles, “I’m not gonna apologize. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to kiss you again. I had to do it, Gorgeous, and they’re gonna find out one way or another. This is high school. Of course, that blush makes you look guilty as shit.”

  I try to give him a dirty look, I really do. But the truth is, I love that he interrupted me to kiss me. I love that he couldn’t wait another minute to do it, and I love him.

  Saying it as a perfectly natural sentence in my head gives me pause, but Cullen takes my hesitation as worry about students having two teachers dating.

  He takes my hand, “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. I’m sure they’re still clueless, but you should get back in, yeah? I’ll see you later, ok? I really couldn’t help it.” He winks.

  I come to my senses with the pressure of his giant hand around mine.

  “Yeah, ok,” I open my door. “Hey, Cullen? Thanks for interrupting me.”

  Cullen

  It’s been four days since I left her breathless and flushed standing just outside her door. She was watching me walk away; I can still feel those round dark eyes staring a hole into my back. I had no choice. Violet runs through my veins thick and hot, pushing the blood cells out of the way so she can touch every part of me first.

  I burst into the locker room with a smile on my face. I know it’s smug. So what?

  “Metz, what the fuck? We were going to meet ten minutes ago!”

  “Settle, Roarke, settle.” He’s standing in his office pacing in the four foot section behind his desk. Elliot looks like a caged rat planning an escape. “What’s with you?”

  He stops moving but tugs at the lanyard around his neck instead. The whistle on the end of it hangs shiny and bright. Violet mentioned the whistle I wear… I can’t halt the smile creeping over my face, and I don’t want to.

  Elliot snaps his fingers, “Metz! Focus! Did you hear me?” His voice cracks like a preteen with anxiety issues.

  I lean against the doorframe with my hands in my pockets, “Chill the fuck out, man. Yes, we’ve got three scouts in the stands tonight. Eyes are on Hart and Boone. I’m assuming you sent whomever is coming tape already?”

  “Hell yeah, I did!” He sits in the shitty chair and it tries to roll away. He grabs the arms so he doesn’t end up on his ass. I cover my mouth, pretending to scratch my beard. He’s a total train wreck. “I went to high school with Trent, he’s the Kansas State rep, and the other two know buddies of mine.”

  “Hart’s athletic resume is a step above primitive, but that footage we’ve got so far is awesome. Boone’s been reaching out. He’s been to a few camps this summer. Where are the other two coming in from?”

  “Georgia and Ohio State.”

  He rocks in the chair but then thinks better of it when it makes a screeching sound similar to the brakes on an eighteen-wheeler.

  “No wonder you’re a fucking spaz. The big guys are coming tonight. All three are on both guys’ 5-5-5 somewhere,” I smack the metal doorframe with my palm. “Ok, well, let’s get this shit done. We’ve got forty-two boys coming to practice any time now. Whatta ya sitting on your ass for?” This time I don’t stifle my smile.

  “I hate you, Metz.” He throws his ball cap at me, and I catch it like the champion quarterback I am taking a hike.

  “Nah, you love me and you know it,” I throw it back to him.

  Violet

  “I can’t wait until it gets cold out. These sweaty teenagers with their hormones all packed into these bleachers? Gross,” Renee shoves past some kids on her way to an empty spot where we can sit for the game.

  It appears that everyone from the school is here to cheer on our Raptors who are 3-0 so far in the season with record-breaking numbers starting to pile up already.

  I knock into Renee as she stops abruptly to tell someone to move her feet. She twists in my direction and snaps her fingers, “Hey! Forward march, girl. You can ogle the field when we sit down.”

  “Oh my god, Renee, keep your voice down. These social media terrorists don’t know anything yet. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  She smiles and adjusts her Maui Jim sunglasses. “I know, Love, so let’s get to that awful empty bleacher over there so we can discuss in private.”

  I do my best to focus on walking just a little bit farther even though Cullen is just yards away from me on the field. We sit, and I turn my attention to where he is among scuffed helmets, skinny legs in tight dark blue pants, and monstrously large shoulder pads. He’s not hard to find. Seeming to tower above our six-foot-two quarterback is Cullen, complete with a headset, clipboard, and shiny whistle. His dark hair is sticking out around the technology but it’s the only part of him that’s out of place. I sigh before I can catch myself.

  Renee laughs and whacks my knee, “Please don’t do that the whole game.”

  By halftime, we’re up by two touchdowns and a field goal and at the end of the game, we’ve won by twenty-four. Students are screaming and jumping on each other’s backs, parents are recapping the major highlig
hts and discussing stats, homemade signs are waving, and cheerleaders are chanting their accolades. I’m standing in my original spot on the hot, metallic bleachers with Renee, watching Cullen and our winning Raptors show sportsmanship to the Cavaliers by knocking their helmets and shaking their hands before they exit the field. With the bleachers practically empty now, Cullen has his chance to spot us.

  Renee waves to him first and then gives me a hug before she leaves, “Have fun with that, Violet. See ya!”

  “Thanks for coming with me,” I peer over her shoulder and Cullen is walking this way.

  He uses the players’ bench as leverage to hop over the short fence separating the field from the rest of us. It’s a smooth, animalistic move and a jolt of tingles attacks my chest. I let go of Renee right as Cullen reaches the front of the stands.

  “Nice game, Coach!” she shouts.

  “Thanks, Renee! Glad you came!” Cullen gives her his wide grin showing perfectly white teeth. I resist reaching out to stroke his beard.

  “Bye, guys!” Renee twiddles her fingers at us and then starts out towards the gate. I look back down at Cullen.

  “You had an awesome game, Handsome. It was fun to watch you pacing up and down the sidelines, being bossy, smacking asses,” I glance down at his whistle and have to put my hands behind my back.

  “Oh, you saw all that, huh? Did you actually watch the game or me?”

  “Um, I saw the game, but I watched you. It was exhilarating.”

  Cullen smiles at me and we just stand there, smiling, until I hear the familiar twittering of high school girls giggling together. Cheerleaders. We both turn and the squad is glancing between their phones and us, doing what teens do best—gossiping. Claire is standing behind them with her hands on her hips. I blow out a heavy breath.

  “Hey, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it. Look, I have to get back to the team. There’ll be a celebration after, so it’ll be late when I get home. Do you want me to call you anyway?”

  “No, it’s all good. Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow. Definitely. Thanks for coming, Violet. I like having you in the stands.”