I clear my throat. “I’m your teacher. It’s not appropriate for you to talk to me.”
“But it’s okay for you to put me up in a hotel?” she challenges. “Something tells me you like treading dangerous waters.”
“What Ilikeis being able to make sure my students are safe and not living on the street,” I abruptly reply.
She gives me a smile that I’m not convinced is genuine.
“Relax, Mr. Reed. I’m just teasing you.”
I glance at my watch, desperate for an excuse to get away from her. “I have a meeting to get to, Chloe. And I’m sure you want lunch before your next class.”
She gives me a shrug. “Sure. I guess I’ll see you around, then.”
* * *
“You look like shit.”
Isaac’s unwelcome words burst into my thoughts of Chloe as I nurse my beer. It’s the end of the day, but I’m not pounding drinks, even though I want to be. Instead, I fixed on Chloe and what her real story is. I wish she’d just fucking tell me so I can stop wondering.
“Thanks.” I gulp down the rest of the drink and offer my glass. Isaac returns it, full to the brim again.
“Hard day?” His sympathetic voice earns a shrug of my shoulders. Day. Night. Morning. Life is rough all the time and it all kind of blurs together, a series of nightmares progressively getting darker. And I’m merely along for the ride because what the fuck control do I have over any of it?
“Sure, man. The worst.”
I down the drink in one long pull and offer him my glass again. The world fuzzes slightly around the edges as the alcohol infuses into my blood and brings warmth to the iced-over pit of my gut. I pull out my phone, hoping for an update from Marissa about when she’ll bring our daughter home, but there’s no missed calls and no messages from her on my phone or the home phone. I try calling her but there’s no answer, so I leave a nasty fucking message, telling her I want my daughter back. My phone rings and I glance down, expecting to see Marissa’s number. Instead, it’s an unknown number.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Mr. Reed?” Instantly, my body responds to Chloe’s voice. She sounds near tears, and I almost stand up and grab my keys, ready to leap into action and help her. “I’m sorry to call you like this again, I just really need to talk to someone,” she whispers. “Can you come over?”
I know it's a bad idea, but the pain in her voice calls to me more than it should. Going there is a dangerous move, but I want her to trust me enough that she'll take my advice and actually go see a doctor, and maybe even the police because I don’t believe for a second that’s where she went this morning. Someone needs to help this girl and I seem to be the only one willing to put in the effort.
“Okay, I’ll be over soon.”
Isaac arches an eyebrow at me. “Hot new squeeze?” he teases. “Booty call?”
“Something like that,” I mutter.
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. She’s not a squeeze or a booty call and I’m far from interested in her. She’s a kid in trouble, who needs my help. That’s it. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll start to believe it.
Tossing some cash down on the bar, I grab my jacket and stalk out the door.
* * *
Chloe is wearinga robe again when she answers the door, only this one is much sexier, thinner, much more revealing. It's barely held together with the thin satin rope; her exposed collarbones, cleavage, and thighs make me sure that she's not wearing anything underneath.
Holy fuck this is a bad idea…
I swallow, hesitant to go inside, but she looks so relieved to see me, and takes my hand, pulling me into the room before I can resist.
“I'm so glad you came,” she says breathlessly. She doesn't sound as upset as she did on the phone, but maybe she's just relieved to see me. I want her to trust me and feel safe around me so I let her lead me inside. “Do you want a drink?”
There's already a bottle of whiskey out, and two glasses, full. I frown when she pushes one into my hand.
“I'm eighteen,” she reminds me. “Legally old enough to drink.”
Right, she is. Gorgeous and legal and all the things I shouldn't be around right now. She takes her own glass in hand and takes a drink, prompting me to do the same. I'm still crossing a line, I'm sure. I shouldn't be here; I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do. Putting a student up in a hotel room is surely againstsomekind of rule, but I'm just trying to help her.