Teacher I Want To Date Page 7

  He reached for me, but I shoved at his chest. His eyes begged me to believe him, but too bad because I would never, ever trust him again.

  “We are good together, nena. I just need you to listen and give us another chance. I’m leaving her,” he promised.

  But I was done with his promises.

  “Don’t!” I shouted. “I never asked you to.”

  He closed the gap between us and gripped my forearms.

  “Let me fucking go.”

  I tried to wriggle away from him, but he held me tightly, his eyes pleading, his voice trembling. “I love you.”

  “I don’t care. I hate you! Let me go before I cut up your balls and put them through the garbage disposal,” I snarled, ready to kick him where it hurt. “It’s over. I said—”

  “What’s going on out here?”

  Our gazes snapped toward the house. Carlos, Jose, and Juan stood at full height, arms crossed over their chests. They looked like they were from that part in a movie where someone was about to get the shit beat out of them. And this time, maybe I would let them …

  The thought was tempting.

  “Carlos.” Mike stepped away from me and waved to my cousins, that stupid smile of his trying to charm them.

  Don’t believe it! I screamed on the inside. He’s full of nothing but shit!

  But my cousins weren’t having it. They started to lumber over, showing how they towered over my ex.

  “You heard Gabby. She said leave.” Juan tipped his chin in a be gone with you gesture. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”

  “Guys …” Mike lifted his hand in protest.

  The threesome marched even closer, looking that much more menacing up close. They weren’t joking around today.

  “Gabby,” Carlos said to me, “get in the house.”

  And I did because when Carlos said something, you had to listen, or you’d hear about it later, which I did not want.

  Mike called out my name, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to anyway. I was done. He could rot in hell for all I cared.

  As I passed my cousins, I whispered, “No trouble. No fights. It’s Abuela’s birthday.”

  Jose nodded, and so did Juan, but Carlos’s face showed he wanted blood. I just hoped to goodness that he would listen or else there was no doubt that Mike would end up in the hospital.

  But as I stalked angrily toward the house, I thought, Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  Chapter 8

  Mason

  I should have gone home, but my body was wired like I’d drunk five cups of coffee and two energy shots. If I went home now, I’d be jacking off for multiple hours, and where was the productivity in that?

  My body could not sit still, and I knew it had to do with one thing—or one person—in particular. Gabby. Those plump and sexy lips and the way her body fit perfectly against mine or the little sounds she’d made when I deepened our kiss …

  What man wouldn’t want more of that?

  I pressed the garage door opener to our Barrington home and entered the house. The house wasn’t quiet today. Mary’s laughter echoed through the hall, and I could hear Charles and Becky in the kitchen, getting food ready for dinner.

  “Hey. We weren’t expecting you.” Charles lifted his head from whatever he was cooking on the stove. It smelled divine, some sort of oregano and basil concoction that made my stomach grumble.

  I nodded and then peeked over Charles’s shoulder and patted his back. “I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.”

  “You never have to ask, Mason. This is your home more than it is mine,” Becky added, cutting up the vegetables for a salad I assumed she was making.

  Charles pinched her side. “I hate when you say that.”

  She laughed. “I’m just saying, you boys grew up here, so technically, it’s true.”

  He chastely kissed her on the lips, and I sat at the kitchen table, ready for food. I guessed it was minestrone soup today, and I was more than okay with that.

  “Hey, guys!” Brad stomped in through the garage, bringing in two bags of groceries.

  I tried not to be annoyed by his presence, but it was like he had been following me lately. Everywhere I turned, Brad was always around.

  “You moving in?” My tone leaked sarcasm.

  Brad threw me a look. “Charles told me to pick up a few things, and a few things turned into a lot of things. Anyway, I’m staying. Just for a few days. Sonia has her sisters over. She’s helping them with some sort of project for school.”

  I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. “So, they had to sleep over?” Why couldn’t they come over and go home? Something told me there was trouble in paradise. I wondered if it was the pregnancy hormones or something more.

  Brad gave me the evil side-eye, so I shut my trap. He dropped the bags on the kitchen counter, and I stood to help him put it all away.

  “You know this is crap, right?” I scowled at the bag of chips. “You shouldn’t be keeping these in the house. You know how Mary’s a chip fiend.”

  “Chip and chocolate fiend.” Brad lifted a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in the air as though it were some sort of trophy. “All in one, baby. Just for my girls.” He grinned like a proud fucking papa.

  I rolled my eyes. Proud fucking papa, my ass. He needed to be looking out for them. Not giving in to them.

  “Don’t worry, food Nazi.” He tapped my shoulder with the bag of pretzels. “Charles and Becky make sure they eat their daily vegetables.”

  I huffed under my breath. “They already eat this shit at school. What I’m saying is that we don’t need this stuff in the house—at all. Do you want your baby eating this crap?”

  The whole room froze.

  Charles’s mouth slipped ajar, and he double-blinked.

  Becky stopped cutting, her knife still held midair.

  Gazes slowly slid toward Brad.

  Well, shit.

  “Sonia’s pregnant?” Becky’s shocked voice cut through the silence. She placed the knife down and wiped her hands on her apron.

  Charles turned off the stove and placed his hands on his hips, waiting for Brad’s reply.

  For the first time in a long time, I wanted to cower. To slink out the door and let them handle business. I was such a dead man after this.

  “No …” I shot out, trying to amend my huge blunder. “It was hypothetical. I doubt Brad would give his own kids this crap, so why is he giving it to Mary and Sarah? Actually, I bet this isn’t that bad.” I opened the bag of genetically modified chips and stuffed the salty shit in my mouth. “Yeah. Not bad. At all.” I faked a smile and chewed openly.

  “Oh. So, Sonia’s not …” Becky sounded disappointed.

  Brad shook his head, but his eyes were on the groceries in front of him. “No, no, no. Nobody has time for that.”

  “Oh, chips!” Mary scurried in the room, and her eyes went wide, taking in all the junk food Brad had laid out on the kitchen island. “And pretzels.”

  Saved by the chip monster. Thank goodness.

  Brad picked up Mary and threw her over his shoulder. “You, pretzel fiend, are not allowed to eat any snacks until after dinner.” He lightly kissed her cheek and set her on her feet.

  Then, he gave me that brotherly look that told me my ass was toast for that little slipup. He walked down the hall and past our game room to the living room, where I followed.

  Then, he shoved me. “What the fuck was up back there?”

  I cringed. “Yeah. Sorry.” I didn’t want to go into the whole spiel on how my world had been recently turned upside down. “I wasn’t thinking.” And hadn’t been normal ever since Gabby walked into my life.

  “No, you weren’t.” Brad scrubbed a hand down his face. “Her mood swings have been crazy. Now, her two sisters know, and Sonia wants them around more than me.”

  He was pouting. Literally pouting. And I wanted to hug him and then laugh out loud at us both.

  I placed one heavy hand
on his arm. “I just think she’s going through a ton of changes and needs moral support right now. Probably guidance from her sisters.”

  He reeled back and held his hands out, looking offended. “What am I, chickenshit? I’m her baby daddy, her future husband. Why can’t she lean on me? Why does she have to lean on them? And how is that fair that she told her sisters, yet I can’t tell my brothers?”

  I blinked. Too late for that. “You told me.”

  He punched an angry finger against my chest. “You cannot, for any reason … tell her I told you. She’d hate me for life.”

  I roll my eyes. “I doubt that.”

  “Mason!” he growled. “I’m not kidding around.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pouting and freaking-out Brad was not fun This was getting awkward. Plus, the stress on his face was undeniable. If he didn’t chill out, he’d have heart issues.

  “No worries. I won’t.” Then, I did the unthinkable. I pulled him into a hug because he definitely needed one, and hell, did I need one, too, with all the havoc happening in my life. “I’m here for you, bro.”

  He exhaled heavily and hugged me back. “Thanks.”

  “You’re going to be great. Big Daddy.” Pat. Pat. Pat.

  An awkward silence filled the air as we hugged it out. I didn’t even remember the last time I’d hugged my brother.

  He laughed and then pulled away, eyeing me with a glint of humor in his eyes. “Can you not say that? That’s just weird.”

  “Say what? Big Daddy?”

  “Dude, stop it.”

  I smirked. I had known saying that would break his mood. “And now, I need a favor from you.” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Can you go out with me on Saturday? I’m …” I swallowed, not believing what I was about to ask him. “I think you’re right, and I need to broaden my horizons. I want to try speed-dating.”

  Brad cackled. Yes. Like a chicken. He held his stomach, eyed me, and laughed again. “Really?”

  “Really.” Now, it was my turn to pout.

  Who knew if she was going to be there for sure? I’d merely seen a flyer on her desk, but I’d take that chance, because, yeah … I was crazy desperate to get to know a girl I knew nothing about.

  He threw an arm around my shoulders, steering us back to the kitchen. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

  “What?”

  “A day where you said, ‘I’m right.’ ” He looked way too pleased with himself. “Mom and Dad might be rolling over in their graves right now from all the joy.”

  “Shut up, Big Daddy,” I muttered.

  “Big Daddy?” Sarah said behind us.

  We both turned to see my niece walking toward the kitchen.

  “Yep. Since Mason sees me as a father figure, I’ve required him to call me Big Daddy.” Brad winked, but his arm around me tightened, sending a silent message: fuck up again, and you’re dead.

  Noted. I pressed my lips into a line.

  “Oh-kay,” Sarah drawled out.

  She proceeded to move past us, but I shrugged Brad off and pulled her to the side.

  “Hey, I’ll be in the kitchen in a minute.” I tipped my head toward my brother. “I just need to talk to Sarah for a bit.”

  I breathed one heavy sigh and took a step back. Give the teenager some room to breathe. Give her space. I could almost picture Gabby saying those words, so I was doing my best to heed her advice.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I started toward the game room. “Hey, can we talk in here for a minute?”

  When I turned, Sarah was rooted in her spot, her eyes unreadable.

  “Please, Sarah,” I said, not caring that there was deep vulnerability in my tone.

  Maybe I had been in the right that night—at least in my mind—but I had violated her privacy and shown her that I didn’t trust her. This distance between us was breaking my heart.

  Finally, she followed, her footsteps calculated and slow. I walked toward the pinball machines pushed up against the wall and rested my hip against the Pac-Man machine. Ironic, given that was the machine she and Liam had played that night.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, straight up and honest. Because I was. “I was worried, and I overstepped my boundaries.”

  Sarah walked farther into the room, but her arms were crossed over her chest, and there was a fixed defensive stare in her features. She sucked in her cheeks and stayed silent.

  I blew out another breath. “I promise”—I couldn’t promise to never do it again, not when my gut was hell-bent on protecting her—“to always talk to you first.” Was that a lie though? I wasn’t going to ask her permission to follow her. “To be honest with you and tell you how I feel, how worried I am about anything.”

  “Will it make a difference?” she deadpanned. “Talking, I mean. Will talking stop you from doing crazy things?” She threw both hands up, color rising to her cheeks. “Like, let’s say … following me to the mall.”

  Damn. The girl knew me too well. We were built the same after all. I didn’t want to throw it in her face how protective she was of Mary. How she’d walked Mary to class every day of kindergarten because had hated it so much, and Sarah had been convinced someone in class was making her life a living hell.

  I sighed, imploring her with my eyes. “I just want things to go back to the way they were, where I was the cool uncle, the uncle you confided in, the one you wanted to hang out with …” My voice choked with emotion. Man, I loved these kids. So damn much. She’d never understand. “I even volunteered to chaperone your Halloween dance, so we can do more things together.”

  And right when I’d thought I was winning her over, she gaped. “Why would you do that?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  Her gaze turned sour. “Uncle Mason, you’re only volunteering because you want to watch me, not do something with me. I know you. You’re not even sorry because you think that what you did was justified. That’s just not cool.” She turned on her heels. “Don’t say sorry unless you mean it, which I know you don’t.”

  I watched her retreating form stomp toward the kitchen and released an anxious sigh.

  “Well, that went well,” I muttered under my breath.

  Chapter 9

  Mason

  “I can’t believe you actually agreed to this speed-dating thing.” Brad stepped out of the car and peered up at me through his black-rimmed glasses, a pair of fake glasses that he’d bought at the local drugstore. Afraid he’d get in trouble with Sonia, he decided not to be Brad tonight.

  After we walked into the Ram Restaurant, I pulled on my suit jacket, taking everyone in. Man, was I overdressed in a three-piece navy-blue full suit. Everyone must have gotten the notice about business casual. Everyone but me.

  High cocktail tables were scattered around the restaurant. Lit candles were set on the middle of each table. At the far end of the room, there was a bar where men were gathered on one side, and women were congregated on the other.

  I inwardly cringed. This reminded me of high school, and I didn’t care too much for high school. Well, the school, the math, the academics, the band … yeah, I loved that, but not the social aspect.

  I caught a look at Brad, who fidgeted with his sweater, seeming even more uncomfortable than me. “Brad, does Sonia know you’re even here?”

  “No.”

  He stared at me like I was crazy, and maybe I was. Because I was here, at a speed-dating event, when I’d never in my life been to one before. And worst of all, I was stalking. Stalking a teacher this time.

  “And remember”—he flicked the collar of my crisp white button-down—“my name is Bradley. Hot enough name, right?” He grinned as though he was proud of himself. “I work as an accountant. I love numbers, and I love to clean.”

  I laughed condescendingly. “You’re me? You have to be better-looking if you want to play my part accurately.”

  “And everyone says I’m the one with the ego,” Brad scoffed. “Anyway, it’s better that Sonia doesn’t know
. I’m here strictly to help you out. She’s already hormonal, and she was doing something tonight with her sisters again; otherwise, I’d be with her, but she doesn’t need to know about your dating issues, life, drama—whatever you call it.” Then, he smiled that Brad-dimpled smile that everyone—or at least every woman and several gay men—fell for.

  As we walked into the room, I noticed women and men size me up and then look back at Brad. But I wasn’t going to shrink next to him. What Brad had over me in looks, I had over him in height and intellect. Brad practically used his phone calculator for everything.

  “I’m only doing my part in the good-brother duty handbook,” he added, pushing his fake glasses further up his nose.

  Black velvet couches outlined the main space of the restaurant, and in the middle of the room were circular tables, each with two chairs. There were fifteen of them, so that must mean there were fifteen women and fifteen men. Yeah, go me, VP of finance. I could count.

  We headed to the bar, each grabbing a beer, and I scoped out the area, looking for Gabby and checking out the competition. Brad was texting, laughing at something on his screen. I peered over his shoulder. It was Sonia—aka Hot Baby Mama, as labeled on the top where her name should be. He must have recently changed her name.

  Brad threw his head back, laughing. He took off his eyeglasses and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m in love with a comedian.”

  “Where did you tell her you were?”

  He placed the glasses back on his face. “She never asked, so I just said I was out with you.”

  Trust. That was one thing Janice and I’d also had in our relationship. One of the best things in our relationship was our level of trust. But her honesty had made me realize that our visions for the future were totally different. We were on different wavelengths.

  It was crazy, but I knew when Gabby was close by because I recognized her voice, her laughter. It took a lot of self-control to not turn around just to get a glimpse of her because I knew I’d see her soon. I’d get five minutes alone with her. And I knew she’d see me and wonder why the hell I was even here. It would be too coincidental. She hadn’t noticed me peeking at her desk, and from the little that I knew of her, I doubted she’d remember that flyer had been floating around there.