Yup, she’d been charmed. Time to extract her from danger without looking like I knew she was in danger.
“Hey, Mr. Beck.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of a lesson. High scores in math are crucial if you want to get into a good college.”
I propped both hands on my hips, half flirt, half challenge, stealing a page from Emma’s playbook. “Mr. Beck, are you aware that recent studies suggest a link between math overload and a variety of unfortunate medical conditions including restless leg syndrome, mad cow disease and erectile dysfunction?”
Beck burst into laughter. “I’ll be careful,” he said, still chuckling, and I had to remind myself that he was a predator. That whole “young, approachable teacher” act was like wearing camouflage in the woods—his prey would never see him coming.
“Seriously, though, if you’re done with her…? We’re gonna be late to work,” I lied. Our shift didn’t start for another hour and a half.
“You two work together?” Beck asked, finally standing to wave me into the room. I stepped inside and the door swung closed behind me, without the rubber wedge to hold it open. Emma and I were alone with Mr. Beck— and suddenly I had an idea. The kind of idea I would never have even tried if I had more than two days to live, or any dignity left, after the spectacle I’d just caused in the hall.
The kind of idea that never would have worked if he’d had other options—I wasn’t gorgeous, as Sabine had pointed out. But I was
I pasted on my best Lolita smile and propped my hands on what little hips I had. “We do
Emma’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull, and she seemed to shake off a bit of that charmed daze in surprise.
“Do you now?” His brows rose in interest like he’d just noticed me for the very first time, and when he glanced from me to Emma and back, I knew I had him.
I nodded slowly, staring straight into his green eyes, and tapped my fingers on my own hip bones to draw his gaze where I wanted it. Where it probably would have landed anyway, eventually. I’d learned that from Emma too, but never expected to actually use it.
“Two’s greater than one, Mr. Beck,” I said, tilting my head to the right. “Shouldn’t a math teacher know that?”
“With absolute certainty.” He didn’t gawk or proposition me, like a guy my own age would have, and he certainly didn’t look me in the chest, not that there was much to see there. But he had the ironclad confidence of a man who’s never been turned down in his life—for a very good reason.
Even without the hedonistic pull of his incubus charm, I could see why girls would fall all over him. Mr. Beck radiated a maturity and skill high school boys couldn’t compete with.
He was dangerous. He was a predator. He was…looking right at me.
“Kaylee?” Beck frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I blinked, then crossed the room without breaking eye contact. “I just never noticed how much gold there is in your eyes. You can’t see them very well from the back row.”
At the last minute, I veered away from him and toward Emma, who was staring up at him again. I leaned down to rest my chin on her shoulder and wrap my arms around her waist. “You ready, Em?” I whispered, still holding Beck’s gaze.
He looked
“Um…yeah, I guess.” But she made no move to stand so I pulled her chair back and closed the book on the desk.
“I don’t think we’re quite done here,” Mr. Beck said, and my pulse spiked almost painfully. “Emma needs some more practice. I could fit you in tonight…” he suggested, as I slid her textbook into her bag.
Em started to nod, her eyes lighting up again with eagerness, but I cut her off before she could agree.
“We have to work,” I reminded him, and he scowled—as close to irritated as I’d ever seen him. “Tomorrow night?” I said, dangling the jailbait in front of him. “I think I could benefit from a little private instruction, too. You could teach us both at once—if you’re up for it.”
She frowned over my intrusion, but the heat in his eyes could have melted iron. “Around eight?”
Em nodded eagerly and slid one arm around my waist. Either she was playing along, or she’d decided that sharing him was better than not getting him at all. “My house. Do you need the address?” she asked, as I guided us subtly toward the hall.
“I can get it from your file.” Surely a violation of school policy. But then, so was sleeping with students.
“Then we’ll see you tomorrow.” I pushed the door open and tugged Emma into the hall. The door swung shut behind us and I threw my backpack over one shoulder and half pulled her toward the parking lot. When I glanced back, I found Mr. Beck watching us through the window in his door.
The trap was set, the bait in place. But I still had no idea what to do with him once we’d caught him.
Emma turned on me the moment the heavy glass door swung shut behind us. “What’d you do that for?”
“Why did I save you from tortures untold at the hands of our evil math teacher? Because I’m your best friend.”
Em sighed and clutched the strap of her backpack. “I’m pretty sure nothing that man’s hands do could be described as torture. I had him right where we wanted him!”
“Right. I could tell from the way your eyes go out of focus every time you look at him. He charmed you, Em. He was touching your hair when I came in, and—”
“He was not!”
“The hell he wasn’t.” I turned left in the second row, veering us toward our cars, parked side by side. “And that was on school grounds, in full view of anyone who happened to walk by. He must be getting desperate. Or ready to quit at Eastlake and find another campus to prey on.”
“Kaylee, I really don’t think he’d do that,” Emma insisted. I rolled my eyes. “Shake it off, Em. He’s the bad guy.”
“Unless…maybe…Sabine misread him, or maybe we misinterpreted the evidence.”
“Emma…” I started, frowning at her.
“Sorry. I know. He just doesn’t feel bad.”
“What does he feel like?” I could understand the attraction—I had eyes, after all—but not the obsession. His charm didn’t work on me.
“He feels…addictive.” She hugged her own stomach, and her backpack swung to one side, but she didn’t seem to notice. “When he looks at you, you feel really, really good. Like an afterglow that’s not…after. You want things, and you know he can give them to you, and when he looks away, it feels like the spotlight left you to shine on someone else, and you’ll do anything to bring it back. To feel that heat.” Em stopped walking and frowned at me, like she couldn’t believe what she was about to say. “I hated you when you came in,” she confessed, like it hurt to say the words. And I have to admit, it kinda hurt to hear them. “I hated you, just a little bit, when he looked at you instead of me.”
“I don’t want him, Em. And neither do you.” And listening to her talk about him like that—about a teacher she’d hardly ever spoken to outside of class before—gave me chills so deep my bones could have been carved from ice.
“But I do. I want him, Kaylee. That’s the scary part.” She started walking again, and her next words floated back to me. “I know better, but it doesn’t matter. I still want him.”
“Emma.” I pulled her to a stop again and looked straight into her eyes. “You have to resist it. He’s the honey, you’re the fly. Or maybe he’s the Venus flytrap. Either way, you’re the fly, and the fly never wins.”
She frowned. “So, what are you?”
“I’m the vinegar. Or the lawnmower, depending on the metaphor. Either way, I’m taking him down. And I’m not leaving you alone with him again.”
Emma blinked and her gaze seemed a little clearer. Her forehead scrunched up, like she was trying to
