As I gesture to the desk at the front of the room, Oakley sighs and gets up. Tessa smirks in a way that says she knows exactly what she was doing. She wanted to make me jealous, and she succeeded.
There are two things I learned the night I let her sleep in my bed. One is that my couch has the ability to cause the world’s worst back pain, and the other is that Tessa Callahan may very well be my Achilles’ heel. The way her voice sounded as she moaned my name in her sleep is burned into my memory and plays on a fucking loop. When I walked away from her in my living room, after admitting the one thing that should have never left my mouth, I knew I had screwed up. Letting her know she gets under my skin only fed her fire, and that can’t be good for me.
When Oakley is securely in his new seat, as far as possible away from Tess, I continue on with the lesson—until they’re once again interrupting the class with her giggling. My brows furrow as I wonder what the fuck is so funny now. It all becomes clear when I notice the two of them on their phones. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I walk over and snatch Oakley’s straight out of his grasp before going to the back of the class. Putting my hand out, I give Tessa an expectant look and just wait. Her eyes meet mine, all confident and challenging. She’s got that same fire she had the night we met, when we both waited for the other to make a move. I won then, and I’m sure as hell going to win now.
“Callahan,” I say, voice firm with authority.
She rolls her eyes and slaps her phone into my hand before crossing her arms over her chest. I grin smugly then go to put both devices in the top drawer of my desk.
“If I start seeing notes being passed, you’ll be sitting out the next three games,” I tell Oakley, just so he knows I mean business.
“Yes, sir.”
His words, while they don’t have any effect on me, they do remind me of when Tessa said them two days ago. They were full of sarcasm and clearly not meant for me to hear, but fuck did they go straight to my cock. Control has never been one of my kinks, and yet, the thought of having her in the palm of my hand is enough to make me come undone. She’s wild, uncontrollable, careless—and all I want is to make her beg for me while she’s on her knees.
I shake the thoughts from my head as I realize this is not the time, nor the place, to be imagining things that will give me away. Instead, I plaster the same hard-as-stone look on my face that I’ve mastered over the years and sit behind my desk to hide my obvious hard-on. Fuck, what this girl does to me.
“All right. Take the rest of the class to read chapter sixteen and write down at least one theory you have about the book.”
AT THE SOUND OF the bell ringing, everyone gets up, stopping at my desk to drop off their assignment before leaving the room. I hand Oakley his phone back as he passes, with a lowly spoken threat that if he doesn’t knock it off, he’ll risk losing his place on the team. His fear is evident as he swallows and nods. Something tells me he won’t be a problem anymore.
Once everyone is gone, only Tessa and I remain. She walks up to my desk and all but slams the paper down on it, then turns to me with her head held high.
“Are you going to give me my phone back?”
I smirk. “Now, now. Is that any way to ask for something?”
She mumbles something under her breath before plastering the fakest smile onto her face. “May I have my phone back, please?”
Stroking the bottom of my chin, I make it look like I’m actually considering it. Then, I drop my hand and shake my head. “Yeah, no.”
“What? Why not?”
“You know why,” I say, leveling her with a look.
Her mouth opens to argue it but then Trent comes into the room and she clamps her lips shut. She huffs, storming out and leaving me to snicker. Trent looks between me and the door she just disappeared through with an amused grin.
“What’s got her all pissed off?”
I shrug. “She was disrupting my class, so I took her phone.”
His eyes widen. “And she let you?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t she? I’m her teacher.”
He shakes off the shock and chuckles. “She doesn’t listen to anyone. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you to fuck yourself.”
Oh, she probably would have had you not come in here. I go sit down at my desk and rest my feet on top of it as I wait for my next round of trust-fund brats.
“So, did you need something, or are you just stopping by to see if I still want to punch you in the face for tricking me into this gig?”
“I didn’t trick you,” he argues. “I thought Hyland would make an exception. The fact that he wasn’t going to is something only him and Blaire knew.”
Fucking Blaire. T
hat reminds me of the voicemail she left on my phone this morning. Apparently, I have an interview this week where I have to go and gush about how much I love my new job, and how coaching high school football is a calling I didn’t know I had. It’s all a crock of PR bullshit, but I understand the necessity of it. At least the one thing I have to look forward to is going to the game in a month.