Jaxson wasn’t worried. He didn’t get why he’d moved from his private school job to this one. He’d been happy teaching math to a bunch of privileged kids. Their parents had too much money, and the kids grew up with a whole bunch of issues, or whatever their excuse was for being less than perfect.
The job had been damn good. Sure, he had to ward off afew clingers and made sure to never be alone with some of the girls who thought he wanted them. None of them appealed to him.
The job, teaching, that was what he loved. It also earned well. He had good savings and an amazing reputation, which was why he didn’t know why he saw and answered the advertisement for a new math teacher at the local high school in a place he’d never heard of.
Even this house, he wasn’t a house kind of guy. He preferred his apartment with no yard. He hated gardening. It was why he’d just ripped out all the rose bushes and flowers. He didn’t have green fingers. Everything that required watering died in his care.
There was a time when he attempted to keep plants, but after they all died, he decided they were a waste of money and just stopped. Now he had a garden. Even the grass on his back lawn looked brownish. Had he killed the grass now as well?
“Yeah, everything is going well. All moved in to my new house.” A house he didn’t want. Still didn’t make any sense to him. Not a single bit. “I made some lemonade. Would you like to come in?”
Teal glanced back at her home and then sank her teeth into her lip. “Yeah, er, sure.” She nodded, and he gave her some room to enter his home.
Why was he inviting the neighbor’s daughter into his home?
She moved past him, and he couldn’t help but notice how nice she smelled. These were things he never should notice. She was his student. Or might be his student. He hadn’t seen his class yet. From what Bethany had told him, in between begs and pleads to her husband, Teal had a problem in school.
What Bethany had coldly said was that her daughter was a little stupid. That she hadn’t been able to retain any of theinformation she’d been taught, and she needed special care and attention.
“Your home is nice,” Teal said.
He closed the door and got an overwhelming scent of roses.
With Teal distracted with looking at his home, he lifted his hands to his face. The scent of roses wasn’t on him from tearing out the rose bushes. Were they haunting him? He’d worn freaking gloves. It couldn’t be on him.
“I’m sure our homes look the same,” he said.
“Yeah, similar. The main setup is the same, but there are differences. I mean, we do have a pool.”
“Yeah,” Jaxson said. “I thought I was the one with the pool at one point.” He frowned. He was sure he saw it in the deeds, but again, everything about this move was odd. So was the scent of roses.
There was only one reason he’d be able to smell roses. He stepped a bit closer to Teal, and sure enough, the smell was coming from her. Why did she have to smell so good?
“Let’s get you that lemonade.” And while he did, he could remind himself that while she was eighteen years old, he was forty. A grown man. Not interested in dating a student, or for that matter, living here.
His old school had already been in touch, telling him that a place was always available for him. The teachers liked him, as did the parents. The students had a love-hate relationship with him. He didn’t mind them slacking off, being a bullshitter in his class, but they had to pass his class. Otherwise, they were in for one hell of a semester because he made them study their asses off. Student education was important to him.
Stepping into his kitchen, he put the package on the counter, and then he opened up the door of the fridge, finding his lemonade.
Teal had taken a seat, and he grabbed two glasses before handing her one.
“So, how are things with your parents?” he asked.
She smiled. “Same as always. I think they’re going to get a divorce, you know.”
“It’s not working out?”
“Mom spends hours convincing him that she is changed. That she is here. It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to come.”
“Is that what he’s told you?”
“No. That would require speaking to me, and it seems David Larson no longer has a daughter.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— He hasn’t answered any of my calls, but that’s because I’m a huge disappointment to him. To both of them.”
“I don’t imagine that’s true.”
She laughed. “Trust me, it’s very much true.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about my problems.”
“There is a high chance that you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other this year,” he said. “Tell me.”