Page 141 of Burning Embers
“What did you do this time? Get tackled by a basketball player?” Ashlinn teases, brushing at a strand of her short brown hair.
“You guys are hilarious,” I deadpan, dragging my attention to Mr. Remington, who frowns in my direction.
The substitute teacher nods his head once and says, “Take your stuff with you. It’s nearing the end of class, and I’m not sure you’ll make it back before school lets out.”
As I throw my backpack over my shoulder, I can’t help but wonder what this could be about.
My eighteenth birthday? No, that’s insane. Why would anyone care about that?
Did I do something wrong?
Questions tumble around and around in my head like a leaf in a hurricane as I hurry out of my Yearbook class and towards the office.
When I finally arrive, Olive—the sweet secretary—jerks her chin towards Christian Montgomery’s closed door.
“He’s waiting for you, sweetie,” she tells me kindly, already turning back to her computer. The only sound in the room is the clack of her nails against the keyboard.
Wait…
Christian is the one who wants to see me?
Christian Montgomery, the sexiest man I’ve ever seen?
A zing of excitement sizzles along my nerves, but I attempt to squash the feeling before it can intensify. I have to remind myself that he’s significantly older than me and my vice principal. This stupid school-girl crush needs to go. Now.
Still, my heart beats almost painfully fast as I rap my knuckles against his closed door. There’s silence for a moment, and I almost think that Olive was wrong and he didn’t wish to see me, when the door is thrown open.
And there Mr. Montgomery stands, in all his hot glory.
Today, he wears a teal-colored shirt that does wonders for his eyes. The stubble on his chin has been recently trimmed, giving him a sophisticated, elegant look.
Am I drooling?
Please tell me I’m not drooling.
That would be fucking embarrassing.
Christian steps aside and gestures for me to enter.
“Thank you for meeting me, Ms. Martin,” he tells me politely, gently shutting the door behind us.
I jump at the sound, unable to ignore the sudden surge of goose bumps that pebble on my arms or the delicious heat that spurs to life in my belly. With the door closed, the room suddenly seems ten sizes smaller. I swear his body emanates analmost palpable heat that caresses my skin like the whiskers on a paintbrush. His cinnamon scent permeates the air, and a part of me wants to inhale deeply and capture the fragrance.
But then I remind myself that that would be insanely creepy, and instead of giving in to my baser instincts, I perch on the chair in front of his desk and fold my hands in my lap.
Christian moves with an almost predatorial grace, his shirtsleeves pushed up to his forearms and his tie loosened. He scrubs a hand through his spiked black hair before claiming the seat opposite me and forcing a smile.
“Sorry for the impromptu meeting.” He reaches under his desk and grabs out a can of Coke. “Drink?” When I nod, he tosses it to me, his eyes sparkling. “Just don’t tell on me, okay? I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” I tell him dryly, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “You know, you could’ve told me that you were the vice principal.”
His smile broadens, and I swear for a fraction of a second a dimple appears in his cheek. Then he compresses his lips into a straight line and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I wanted to check in with you. See how you’re handling things.”
I slide my backpack off my shoulders and place it by my feet as I think over Mr. Montgomery’s question. Is he asking about my personal life? Or does he want to know how I’m handling the course work?
Before I can give voice to my questions, he continues, his voice low and earnest. “I know you’ve been making friends with some of the other students here, and that’s good.” He seems to consider something and then adds, “Including my brother.”
My eyebrows crawl to my hairline. “Your brother?”