Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Don’t you agree?” she asks, her gaze carefully searching mine. “This has to be just a fling, Mack. Just something fun that happened when we were on vacation.”
I could give her a hard time here. Really press her for why she’s going this route.
But that’s not how you handle a woman like Katy.
You can’t push her. You have to let her ease into shit. Otherwise, she’ll run like she did after the first night we had sex. Hell, even that morning after the glorious bath time experience, she looked like a prisoner searching for an escape route until I managed to put her at ease by acting casual and not bringing it up.
So, I do exactly what I know I need to do right now to not push her over the edge. I just offer a smile and shrug. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, babe.”
She starts to open her mouth, but I cut her off by leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow…coworker.”
But as I head out of her apartment and toward the elevator, I’m certain of one thing—Katy Dayton is a hell of a lot more than a coworker, and I plan to keep it that way.
Thursday, March 31st
Katy
“Bye, everyone. Make good choices and enjoy your day,” I announce as my second period heads out of my classroom in a single-file line.
They wave and offer cute little smiles on their faces as they follow the lead of Alma’s teaching assistant, Olivia, and I walk back to my desk—without crutches—until the last student has left my room. As of Tuesday afternoon, my stitches have been removed, and I’ve been cleared to be full-weight-bearing on my foot. Thank everything.
It’s still a little tender, but being able to walk on it is a heck of a lot better than trying to navigate crutches in a building full of elementary students. Their awareness of their own two feet and propensity for clumsiness made Monday quite the crapshoot when I was still tottering around here on those stupid stilts.
Thursdays, my third period is normally my free period, and I use that time for catching up on emails and grading papers and prepping lesson plans. Sometimes, I’ll even stroll over to the teachers’ lounge to gab for a few minutes with Anna, but since I’ve been avoiding her scrutiny on the whole Mack situation, my classroom is the place to be. But today, I have a legitimate excuse—a parent-teacher meeting with Seth Brown’s mom, Sammy Baker.
I love Seth. He’s one of my most adorable students and has an incredibly bright mind. But he’s also one of my most difficult and disruptive second graders.
The other children often follow his lead—or at the very least, fall into his distraction—and the last few days since we’ve come back from spring break have been some of the worst of the semester. I know everyone’s still getting back into their routines, but the longer I let Seth go without consequence, the further he’ll take his shenanigans.
The last thing I want is for any of my students to get behind or fall through the cracks—especially when they have as much potential as Seth Brown does.
While I wait for Sammy to arrive, I pull my cell phone out of the top drawer of my desk and check the screen for notifications. There’s a message from a certain somebody who’s been texting me ever since we returned from Destin on Sunday night, and I shouldn’t be surprised—he’s been full contact since the moment we got back. And yet, I still am.
Maybe it’s unfair of me, given how great he was all week long in Florida, but when it comes to Mack Houston, I’m always waiting for the bottom to fall out.
Mack: Let’s meet for dinner tonight so we can start preparing for Career Day. I know the perfect spot. 7:30 work for you?
I almost want to laugh at the abrupt change of tone in this message. I even find myself scrolling through all of his previous texts from this week to compare.
Mack: I’m new at this “we’re just coworkers” business, so I just want to make sure I understand. Am I allowed to tell you that you’re beautiful? Because you are. And when I think about dirty stuff, like how delicious your pussy tastes when you come on my tongue…should I keep that to myself?
That text came in on Sunday night, after he’d dropped me off at my apartment. And even though I blushed like a teenage schoolgirl and had some seriously dirty visuals pop up inside my mind, I chose not to engage.
Mack: You look stunning in pink, Ms. Dayton. Coworkers can say that, right?
That was Monday’s gem that referred to the silk blouse I wore.
Mack: Happy Tuesday, to my beautiful coworker Katy Dayton. I hope you have a wonderful day, babe. And I hope I don’t spend too much time thinking “repeats.”