Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Fox’s lips curled. “If we’re still trading kisses as currency, I’m afraid you’ve spent years’ worth of your allotment at this point and are deeply in debt.”
“So...” Summer leaned harder into Fox—into the tall, strong breadth of his body. “What do I have to do to earn—”
A soft clearing of someone’s throat from the door cut him off.
And instinctively he and Fox sprang back from each other, Summer flushing. Fuck, if one of the boys’ parents caught them...
Worse.
Assistant Principal Lachlan Walden stood in the open door of Fox’s office, watching him with freezing eyes, and crooked his finger.
“Mr. Hemlock,” he said thinly. “A word, if you please.”
Ah, fuck.
Summer stole a nervous glance at Fox, who only gave him an encouraging nod and brushed a hand to his shoulder before gently nudging him toward the door. Shoulders slumping, Summer followed Walden out into the hall.
Walden fixed him with a critical, blistering gaze as Summer shuffled to a halt in front of him.
“What did you think you were doing?”
“Trying to stop an already bad situation from getting worse,” Summer said quickly. He hated how his voice cracked, but he’d already done what was done and wouldn’t back down now. “We can only discipline the boys up to a certain point. Once things get beyond that, we have to get their parents involved.”
“We have to get their parents involved,” Lachlan said scathingly. “Not you. You are barely one step above a temp, and it was underhanded of you to make use of Professor Iseya’s position to avoid school policies.” His lips thinned. “This is still not your job.”
“I know it’s not,” Summer said.
And that was when it hit.
What he wanted.
Why teaching felt wrong, but being at Albin...
Being at Albin didn’t feel wrong at all.
His heart rose into his throat.
The tiniest flutter of hope went through him, hope and a sense of purpose, elation, lightness.
“But if we could talk...” He scrubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs. “I’d like it to be.”
Walden parted his lips to respond.
Only for an angular, strong shoulder to bump into Summer, hard, nearly knocking him aside as Fox edged through the doorway past him.
And walked away without a backward glance, his stride swift and tight enough to make the few loose tendrils of his hair lash back and forth sharply in his wake, the set of his shoulders hard and taut.
“Fox...?” Summer called.
But Fox didn’t stop.
If anything, his stride only quickened.
Before there came a loud bang, echoing down the hall, as Fox disappeared into the stairwell.
Summer’s heart plummeted.
What was wrong?
Why was Fox...?
He threw a wide-eyed glance back at Lachlan. “Please. Can we talk later? I—I need to—”
He wasn’t expecting the softening of Lachlan’s frigid blue gaze, or the understanding in his voice.
“Go,” he said. “It would appear you have some things to discuss with your mentor.”
Summer took a shaky breath, nodding.
“Thank you,” he rasped.
Before he turned and ran, chasing after his elusive fox with the sudden and terrified feeling that he might have lost him for good.
* * *
Fox Iseya was...
Was an entirely selfish asshole.
And this was why he was so bad for someone like Summer.
He’d known what was coming the second Summer had said he’d known counseling the students wasn’t his job; had looked at Walden with that particular light he got in his eyes when he was terrified but intended to be brave, to take a chance anyway.
Summer wanted the guidance counselor job.
Instead of replacing Fox as the psychology instructor, he wanted the guidance counselor job, which meant...which meant...
Fox couldn’t leave.
He could, he could walk away and leave Albin without a psych instructor for an elective course that was entirely optional despite the AP college credits attached, but whether or not he morally and ethically would was another question.
And that changed everything between himself and Summer, because he had realized, in that moment standing there like a shadow who wasn’t supposed to witness what he was seeing...
That Summer had been his excuse.
Summer was both Fox’s thing to run from...and the excuse that let him run in the first place. Because as long as Summer was his replacement, Fox wasn’t needed here anymore, and he could just...
Go.
Wander into that gray nebulous nothing and disappear. Stop existing. There would be no place for him anymore, and he’d wanted that, but with the idea of Summer shifting tracks into the guidance counselor role suddenly Fox would be here, would be bound by his own sense of responsibility to stay, and if he stayed...
If he stayed, then he would have to love Summer.
He would have to love Summer in the bright, eager way he threw himself at everything, the way he gave his heart without question and without shame, the way he cared so much about other people, the way he fought himself to be brave so often even when it did terrible and terrifying things to him. The sweet way he put up with Fox’s cantankerousness. The way he made Fox want to be bright, too, to remember how it felt to be someone who created things, who helped others, who touched and held and cradled others’ feelings tenderly instead of cutting them off so cold and living numb.