Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Chloe and I spot each other as we both come down the stairs. We continue together and I’m laughing at a joke she made as we walk into chemistry.
Just as I step through the doorway, I stop dead in my tracks. In fact, Chloe walks right into me, shoving me forward. I nearly trip, which, upon hearing the commotion, causes our teacher to look up from his desk.
My eyes meet his and widen out of pure shock. My face starts to tingle and the air feels tight, like it’s physically shifting around the room. I know my breath is coming quickly, like I can’t get the oxygen in fast enough. I’m going through some outer body experience, because I didn't expect J. Harrington to be so... so.... edible, hot, sexy. Ugh, ew… no, he's a teacher!
I'll say young.
I didn’t expect him to be so young.
He looks completely out of place here, far too good-looking to fit in somewhere so ordinary. His eyes, a gorgeous crystal blue, widen to match mine, before narrowing, like he’s suddenly annoyed. He quickly turns back around to whatever he was in the middle of doing, but I’m still standing in place, gawking.
The side of his face is perfectly chiseled, from his cheekbones to his chin. The corner of his lips form into a tight, hard line, but if they just loosen up slightly they look like they could be almost soft, yet still controlling and powerful. Even his ears are perfectly proportioned! There’s not an imperfection on him. His short, clearly recently cut sideburns bleed up and into a big head of also newly trimmed short, thick, dark hair, itching to be grown back out and set free, as if it’s simply longing to be messy and wild.
“What’s wrong with you?” Chloe snaps, but I’m too stunned to answer, too preoccupied with the God before me, staring at him, gazing, imagining things I shouldn’t be imagining.
I finally force myself to look away and at my surroundings, willing myself not to turn back, to focus on something else, anything else!
His desk is part of a large wooden platform that elevates him above the rest of us, with a chalkboard attached to the wall directly behind him. To the far side are large windows that overlook the track and tennis courts.
Chloe shoves my shoulder as she walks past, and I shake my head as I follow her deeper into the room, noticing lab tables with equipment in the very back. She settles at a desk in the middle of the room, where all the students who were already here from lab are seated, and I take the seat next to her. In this area, between Mr. Harrington’s desk in the front, and the lab in the back, are normal desks, just like you’d find in any other classroom.
I look his way again.
I can’t help it.
There’s a strange magnetic pull making me, like I’m just some puppet being tugged on with strings, compelling me all on their own.
He was watching me, but turns away the second my eyes meet his. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. The loud buzzing of the overhead projection in the corner of the room suddenly makes itself known. Everything starts to spin. I actually shiver, despite it being rather hot in here, all while haphazardly sitting in some sort of dazed trance that’s directed only at him.
He looks my way again and sweat starts to form on my forehead. It’s me this time that looks down, away, focusing on the curse word etched into my desk.
“So…” Ashley whispers to Chloe. “My sister is friends with his sister. She teachers English here.” The mention of him grabs my attention, and I’m suddenly all ears.
So that’s his sister!
Not that it matters.
“She said she doesn’t really know him, but from what she’s heard, he’s sort of a dick,” Ashley pauses, probably looking to make sure he’s not watching as she talks about him. “But most hot guys are,” she laughs quietly.
Guess I’m not the only one who noticed his otherworldly looks.
Ashley and Chloe continue chatting, as I get out my new notebook, too afraid to look up, but too anxious not to, because I just have to see him.
We don’t get to relax in our seats for long, and as soon as the bell rings, Mr. Harrington asks us to all get up. The moment he speaks I’m rendered speechless, almost forgetting how to do something as simple as stand. His voice is manly, deep and smooth, and my stomach is officially summersaulting.
Really, I should detest the fact that he’s assigning seats to high school students, but I don’t. I can’t dislike anything about him, especially because of the way he says my name, so vibrant and with a slight rasp. It happens out of nowhere - the mere sound of his voice causing my nipples to harden, scratching uncomfortably against my bra.