Page 58 of Singled Out
Max
Monday morning was a Monday in every sense of the word.
Last night, reality had gradually seeped in, crowding out the incredible high from getting naked with Harper and keeping me awake for hours.
I’d crossed multiple lines that went against my personal code and my professional code. I’d made a liar out of myself where my boss was concerned, allowed my dick to make a decision instead of my brain, and exposed myself to a mind-blowing bliss I didn’t currently have room for in my life.
It’d be too easy to become addicted to Harper Ellison.
I’d finally managed to drift to sleep about an hour before my alarm went off. Then I’d apparently turned off that alarm instead of snoozing it. I’d woken to Danny’s cries nearly an hour later and bolted out of bed with my adrenals pumping.
I’d had to skip my morning run with Danny in the jogging stroller, our weekday father-son ritual that served as a peaceful, meditative time for both of us, with me pounding the pavement in an even rhythm and Danny taking in the sights as the town came alive for the day.
When I’d dropped him off at my mom’s house, I’d barely had time to tell him goodbye. As irony would have it, Danny was fussy to begin with, so I’d left my mom with a cranky, unsettled toddler.
On the short drive to the high school, I’d realized I’d forgotten my coffee. I hadn’t merely walked off and left a mug of it on the counter. No, I’d not even remembered to brew a cup.
Now I had about two minutes to get my ass into my classroom and get organized for the day.
Instead of entering through the front door and walking by the main office like I usually did, I used the side entrance by the gym. Both were about the same distance from my classroom in the math wing, but this way I had less chance of running into Bob Ellison.
I was a guilty son of a bitch, and I knew it.
There were clusters of students who’d arrived early: outside the band room, at lockers, roaming the halls. My colleagues were here and there, some on morning supervision duty and others discussing their weekend. I made eye contact with no one, busying myself with my phone as if checking my calendar for the day.
When I rounded the corner into the math hallway, Lisa Brimm and Dean “Mills” Miller were outside their rooms, chatting across the hall.
“Morning, Coach,” Lisa said, her voice chipper with an edge of knowing to it. “Good weekend?”
“Sure. You?” I kept going toward my room, and they closed ranks and walked with me.
“Not as good as yours, judging by the photos,” she said.
As I’d anticipated, there’d been no shortage of them on the Tattler.
“The boss’s daughter,” Mills drew out. He did have the courtesy to say it quietly, so only the three of us could hear. “I’m shocked Bob okayed that.”
“Old news,” I told him, not surprised he’d been out of the loop. Mills was a good work friend, a few years younger than me, and what I’d affectionately call a math nerd. He was an intellectual guy who didn’t keep up on the social scene. Normally I liked that about him.
“Are you and the principal’s daughter a thing now?” he asked as he pushed his glasses higher on his nose.
“We’re not a thing, Mills. Why are you so obsessed with this?”
I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. “You could have any woman you want in this town. I find it interesting you singled out the one who could get you in the most trouble.”
“I didn’t single her out.”
“She bid on Max in the auction,” Lisa said.
“How do you manage to miss everything?” I asked Mills, ready for the topic to switch from me to him.
He laughed. “Years of practice, my friend. Level with me. How are you handling Bob with this?”
We’d reached my classroom, and I faced my coworkers. “There’s nothing to handle,” I lied. “Harper needed a date for an event in Nashville. She bid on me to take her. I took her. End of story.”
I was still waiting for my dick to get that message.
Mills lifted his palms in surrender. “Okay. Got it.” He exchanged a look with Lisa that I could easily read. It said, Oversensitive, much?