Just my wild imagination.
Wishful thinking is more like it. Men like Mr. Park don’t want girls like me. They want voluptuous and funny and clever.
Not shy and fearful and sad.
We might as well add awkward to that list too of what he won’t like.
Somehow, yesterday, I convinced myself that he saw through to me. The person buried so deep, alone and afraid. I’d allowed myself to paint him as my chivalrous hero, saving me from the life I hate, showering me with love and protection.
I’m a dreamer.
And it sucks when I wake up to this wicked reality.
Someone barks out a laugh in the hallway, drawing my attention. Dempsey Park is messing with his twin sister, Gemma, near a bank of lockers. They’re the younger siblings of my stupid-hot teacher. Everyone in the Park family, as far as I know, is gorgeous.
Especially Mr. Park.
Speak of the devil.
He steps into the threshold of his classroom door, filling the walkway with his massive, muscular frame. A tiny whine crawls out of my throat. Not because he terrifies me. No, because I find him so sexy it hurts.
It’s a thing.
I physically ache when I look at him. It starts in the center of my chest and pulsates this fiery, painful throb all the way down my appendages. It’s frustrating, to say the least.
“Hey,” Mr. Park calls out as he leans a shoulder on the doorframe to make room for someone entering the classroom. “Have either of you seen Spencer?”
Dempsey, a younger, but still handsome version of his brother, gives Mr. Park a chin lift. “Yeah, I think he was getting high in the bathroom earlier.”
Mr. Park doesn’t take the bait. “Tell him I’m looking for him.”
“Is he in trouble?” Gemma asks, brows scrunching together. “What did he do?”
I find myself drawn to the three of them, slowly approaching as though by being near them, I’ll somehow become one of them.
The Park princes and princess.
Royalty among the average townspeople.
More money than God.
If the rumors are true anyway…
“He’s trying to fail Miss Collins’s class.” Mr. Park frowns at Gemma. “What’s your grade in there?”
She scoffs, huffing in an indignant way. “Seriously, Callum? You’re my brother not my dad. It’s none of your business.”
Callum.
The name suits him.
Just thinking of it has my heart fluttering and my stomach twisting.
“Watch where you’re walking,” a girl hisses, bumping into me. “Freak.”
I recoil at her words. I’m not a freak. Just quiet. I don’t have friends, though. My stepbrother made sure of that. There’s no telling what he whispered in everyone’s ears to make them treat me as an outcast. I don’t exactly help the situation. Rather than trying to prove to them I’m someone else—someone better than he says—I turned into a silent ghost who quietly haunts the hallways and classrooms, mostly keeping to myself.
Except for yesterday.
Except with Mr. Park.
Callum.
I actually worked up the nerve to speak to him. To attempt to be playful and flirting. All because I caught him staring at me with an intensity I couldn’t ignore even if I’d wanted to. It emboldened me. For once in my powerless life, I felt like I held the hand with all the cards.
But I was wrong.
He snuffed out the flickering fire all too easily and I’ve been obsessing over it since.
Mr. Park’s deep voice cuts through my self-deprecating thoughts. “Grades are important, Gemma.”
Dempsey cackles, playfully tugging on his sister’s long, silky mahogany-colored hair. “Did you hear that, Gemmy-Lou?” He lowers his voice, mocking their brother. “Grades are important.”
Mr. Park stalks over to them, jaw clenching. Dempsey, despite being half his size, doesn’t back down. Gemma’s face is red from humiliation. Whatever Mr. Park says to them is in a low tone and through gritted teeth. I can’t make out what he’s saying, so I take a second to admire him before I have to actually face him in class.
The man is a mountain.
Not some burly guy with a thick neck and thunder thighs. No, Mr. Park—Callum—is like a castle wall. Firm. Solid. Impenetrable. Power and authority are cut into every sculpted muscle on his body so that his presence is not only felt but also seen in the way he carries himself. Expensive suits are always molded to his fit body, the fabric stretching slightly over his biceps and back. On the rare few times he’s removed his suit jacket, the entire class is rewarded with the way his slacks hug his tight ass.
He’s just so…manly.
Arrogance and confidence war for the lead. I think, deep down, he’s more than some rich prick whose name this city was built upon. I can see it in the gruff, yet concerned way he deals with his younger siblings. There’s more to Mr. Park than a sexy body and heart-stopping face.
I thought…
I thought maybe I was going to learn what all lurks beneath him.
I thought maybe I was special.
The bell rings, jarring me from my daydreaming and forcing me into the present. Dempsey and Gemma are gone. Mr. Park remains near the lockers, intense blue eyes searing into me. His nearly black hair with a few rogue strands of gray is styled in a casual way despite his professional, bespoke three-piece charcoal suit. Dark scruff lines his sharp jawline and his dark brows dip. Like he’s angry to see me.
My heart stutters to a stop and bile creeps up my throat. I do everything in my power to be a good girl and stay off everyone’s radar. The thought of being on Mr. Park’s radar sends terrifying chills down my spine. Shuddering, I hug my arms to my chest and hurry into the classroom.
With my head down, I make my way to my seat. I drop my bag onto the floor and sit down, hoping to disappear completely.
“Psst. Willa.”
So much for disappearing.
I gnaw on my bottom lip, pretending I don’t hear Levi call for me. A wadded piece of paper bounces off my head and scuttles across the floor. Unable to ignore him, I look over my shoulder to find Levi grinning evilly at me.
As if having to live with the monster wasn’t enough, I’ve been forced to share my statistics class with him.
He’s the absolute worst.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
One of his friends barks out a laugh. “Dude, your sister doesn’t like you.”
I’m not his sister.
I’m his stepsister.
Other than sharing a house with him, we may as well be strangers.
“She likes me,” Levi argues. “She just got her period, though, which is making her kind of bitchy. Didn’t you, Willa? Bloody panties all over the bathroom floor—”
Even though it’s stupid and he’s made it up, it doesn’t stop him and several friends to roar in laughter. At my expense. I cringe, quickly turning to avoid his mean teasing. This time, I’m desperate to see Mr. Park. Not because I want to relive the embarrassment of yesterday, but because he is one of the few people who can shut my stepbrother up.
“Mr. Paulson,” Mr. Park snaps, slamming the classroom door shut behind him. “I suggest you spend less time clowning around and more time studying. Fs on exams mean you won’t pass my class. Do you really want to spend the summer retaking this statistics class?”