His gaze slides down the hallway before it shifts right back to me. “Yep. He’s the one who gave me your contact info.”
Time to get the fuck out of the office and away from Zoey’s laughing eyes. “Come on. I’ll take you around so you can get your bearings.”
We do a fairly quick circuit of the school. I show him the main classroom hallways and the library, where we ducked in to say hello to my friend, Madison. From there, we continued to the cafeteria and the gyms. Sawyer walks next to me the whole time, seemingly at ease, and I try not to notice just how tall he is or how broad his shoulders are under his crisp gray button-down shirt. He nods at certain things I tell him and asks questions about others. How is it that he’s completely comfortable and I feel awkward as all hell? Does he not remember that our eyes locked on each other’s across that bar like it was kismet or something? I’ve never had such a strong, hunger-inducing reaction to anyone in my whole life.
“And this is our workroom.” We step through the doorway so he can look around. “All of the history and English teachers have desks in here where we can work during our planning periods. We’ll get them to bring an extra one in for you so you have somewhere to set up shop and a place to keep your things. I eat lunch in here a lot, too, because we really don’t have much of a break for that.”
I force myself to exhale when I realize I’ve been holding my breath for a few seconds. “So. Other things you may need to know: Brian Schmidt is our department chair, and Lauren Lands and Tom Edmund are the other history teachers in our department. They’ve all already gone home for the day; you’ll probably meet them tomorrow. We don’t all have the same lunch shifts or planning periods, so you’ll see some people more than others.” I shift my gaze to the far side of the room where my friend Piper sits at her desk, working through grading some essays. “Like I said, we share the workroom with the English department, so there’s pretty much always someone else in here with you if you happen to need something and I’m not here.”
“Sounds good.”
My nerves are getting the best of me. Introduce him, you dummy. “Sorry, that’s Piper Mathison, one of the English teachers, over there, and Jake Jones, the English department chair.” Both turn at their names and wave. “This is Sawyer Rivers. He’s a student teacher from Roxford College.”
“Welcome aboard. You’ll learn a lot from Hadleigh. She’s a good teacher.” Piper gives us a smile and sends me a wink. She glances at the other two desks for their department. “Damon Madero and Kent Burgess are the other two English teachers, but they’ve gone for the day already.”
Sawyer returns her smile. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted.”
I laugh beside him and give myself a mental shake when I remember just how long I’ll be working with this man. “Eight weeks. That’ll be long enough to get to know everyone. Do you have plans to teach locally once you have your license?”
“I don’t really have a fully-formed plan yet, but it’s an option for sure.” He holds my gaze, and I hear a whooshing in my ears. What the ever-loving hell is wrong with me?
“So, what grade levels do you teach?” his deep voice rasps, and I can’t help but perk right up and pay attention.
“Ninth grade World Geography and eleventh grade US History. Probably the very same curriculum you had in school. History doesn’t change—like, not at all.” I shoot him a smile, unable to imagine this man as a student in a high school. He’s far too … I don’t even know what. Grown up, I guess. Devastatingly handsome. Capable of making my insides flutter like I’ve swallowed a bunch of butterflies. The same damn thing happened that night at the bar. One look gave me all sorts of ideas that seem especially indecent right now. This is your student teacher, Hadleigh.
Your very tall, very hot, very sexy student teacher. Jet-black hair I’d like to run my fingers through and dark eyes that make my insides twist every time he looks at me.
Oh. Shit. I’m so screwed.
“I hope I can do a good job. I love history and am a bit of a storyteller … and a keeper of strange facts—historical and otherwise.” He chuckles to himself. “Just to warn you in advance.”
His gaze meets mine, and I can’t help but smile. My teeth catch the corner of my lip and rake over it. In an effort to distract myself, I point up to the top shelf. “Let me get you the books you’ll need.” I reach for them, but have to grab at my shirt when I realize it’s riding up to bare my midriff above my pencil skirt.
His hand touches the middle of my back for a fraction of a second to let me know he’s behind me before he reaches up. “I’ve got them, no problem.” He pulls one down and then the other, setting them on my desk. “Where are you in
