Page 34 of Between the Lines

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Page 34 of Between the Lines

I watch the heavy, tense breaths expanding in his chest, in the same moment that my heart seems to find its missing piece in the middle of this classroom.

We both have so much more to say.Somuch more that I want to uncover. But for tonight, it stays buried in hidden text that we’ll have to find out next time. The hallway lights flicker off, pulling both of us from the moment. I slide my hand from his.

“I shouldget home. Gotta get my beauty rest in and all of that jazz.”

I head for the door, and this time, he follows.

“I’ll walk you out,” is all he says on our otherwise silent walk out of the building.

He has no bag, no coat, and I wonder what he’ll spend the rest of his night doing. Why he’s here so late. I didn’t end up asking, but now doesn’t seem like we’d have quite enough time for all the answers I want.

Because suddenly, I’m longing to spend more time talking to him. To find the secrets hidden in his eyes, behind the late night hour and the reasons thatheuses the building to escape.

We arrive at my car—the used, 2009 Accord that I bought with my own money—and face one another in the evening dusk.

He’s searching for the words to say. I can see the cogs turning behind his square frames, can hear the gears shifting, and give him the time while I listen to the encouraging chirps of the crickets.

“You have done an excellent job in Mrs. Ford’s classroom, Claire. We are incredibly lucky to have you. Tokeepyou.”

Oh. Something in my people-pleasing gut has shifted, becausethisman’s praise? It suddenly has my skin hot.

“I feel confident that you’ll work wonders in the rest of these classrooms. Especially with what you and Lucy are working on. You make a difference, Claire.”

I thought I’d been imagining the sparks where our skin had touched earlier, hell, in the way his eyes had almost twinkled at the library. But here in the moonlight, with his body inches from mine, I can feel a pull. And hey, it very well might be my libido tugging on my praise kink, but I want him to keep saying nice things to me.

Instead, I swallow, and stare at the space between our bodies. I might thrive on praise, but I’ve always been terrible at taking it.

“Thank you, Mr. Harding.”

I imagined that growly sound in the back of his throat, right?

Well, if I did, I definitelydidn’timagine the way he just shifted slightly forward.

The way his fist tightened at his side.

The crotch of his pants swelling slightly. Yeah. They weren’t this tight before. Not that I was looking closely enough to notice.

I don’t get the chance to scrutinize what he’s working with before his finger is beneath my chin, tilting my gaze up and toward his.

If my skin wasn’t on fire before, it’s sizzling against his now. And it’s straight up competing with the smoldering embers in his eyes.

“What did I say earlier?”

The gasp that escapes when I part my lips to answerdefinitelyhas the power to transform into a moan if he keeps talking to me like this.

“Nathan. Sorry. Nathan.”

“Good—”

He stops himself, pinching his eyes closed and immediately stepping backward, grunting again.

If he was holding onto the wordgirl…

I would’ve combusted on the spot.

“Get home safely, Ms. Benson. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I don’t get the chance to correcthimwith his abrupt turn and fast-walk back toward the building.




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