Kathryn’s skin bristled. No one else had ever called her that. Her mom called her Kathy. Everyone else, including Danny, had always called her Kathryn. Kath. Brett’s husky timbre trickled over her like thick, dark chocolate. Her knees weakened. She remembered. Remembered exactly how he’d licked chocolate off her warm neck…
The warmth of a flush drifted over her flesh. “I stopped eating chocolate when I was pregnant with Maya,” she said, her voice shaky. “I couldn’t stand it during morning sickness.”
Actually, she’d stopped eating chocolate years before, after she had left town. She’d stopped eating it for a reason she wasn’t ready to think about right now. Maybe not ever.
“Really?” Brett stepped beside her. “I’m surprised. I remember you as a true chocoholic.”
“Things change,” she said.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s…it’s good to see you again, Brett.”
“I didn’t realize you were back in town.”
“I’ve only been here a few months.”
“You kind of dropped off the face of the earth, you know.”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I had my reasons. You did marry Michelle, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
“That’s what I figured.” Kathryn shifted her gaze to Maya and Zoe skipping ahead.
Twenty years earlier
Kathryn’s throat constricted as she walked into Mrs. Knott’s math classroom. She’d refused to see Brett in her home or his for tutoring, so Mr. Phillips had arranged for their use of a classroom after school. She shook her head. What was the world coming to? To go to such effort just for baseball seemed fruitless to Kathryn.
Brett, to her surprise, was already in the classroom. She’d hoped they’d be chaperoned by Mr. Phillips or a teacher, but that wasn’t possible. However, the principal and Mr. Phillips would be in the building until five, so if she needed them, she could contact them via the intercom. Not that she feared for her physical safety around Brett. No, he wasn’t like that. Especially not with her. She just didn’t want to be alone with him for reasons of her own.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Hi.” She whisked through the maze of student desks quickly and took a seat at the teacher’s desk. Why not? She was the teacher, right?
“Can’t you sit beside me?”
“No. You’re here to learn. I’m here to tutor you. That makes me the teacher, you the student.”
He let out a drawling guffaw. “If you say so, teach.”
“Cut the attitude,” she said. “I’m here to help you, and according to Mr. Phillips, you wanted me and no one else.”
“True.”
“So treat me with respect, or I leave.”
The muscles in Brett’s perfectly sculpted face tightened. She’d hit a nerve. Interesting. But why? Why did he insist on her as a tutor when several other just as qualified individuals existed who didn’t share their history?
Of course, maybe he didn’t even remember their history. He’d left her alone for the past four years. He was one of the beautiful people, the popular crowd. He probably didn’t remember how he’d tormented her, made her middle school years hell, been the cause of many tears shed into her pillow.
Not that she ever let him see her cry. No, she was too proud for that. She’d always waited until she got home to her empty house before letting the dam break.
No time for that now. She was bound to tutor Brett Falcone, and the sooner they started, the sooner they could finish.
“What exactly do you need help with?” she asked. “Mr. Phillips said you’re failing math.”
“Dummy math.”