“Do you really need help?” I ask, my voice breathless and faraway.
Amusement briefly dances across his features, lighting up his eyes and making the corners of his mouth twitch like he might smile. “I’m quite capable of making copies myself. You, on the other hand, needed a breather.”
I note that he doesn’t drop his hand. If anything, it feels as though he’s leaning closer into me. He’s so near I can smell his cologne—a hint of spice and maybe apples. Whatever it is, it reminds me a little of Christmas. That makes my heart swell.
“You’re smiling,” he murmurs. “I was just sure I was going to be met with tears.”
I grin, chancing a look up at him through my lashes. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Too bad I don’t believe those words. I want him to, though. I want this man to see me as someone who could be his equal. Someone he would want to take to bed with him. I want to be seen as a woman, not some helpless girl.
“You shouldn’t have to be.” He lifts a hand like he might touch my face. I hold my breath, praying he does, and then exhale a disappointed sigh when he fists his hand and drops it back down. “Your family is supposed to look out for you.”
“We’re not exactly close.” I hate that the conversation has moved from our almost playful banter to his concern for my familial relationships. “Darren didn’t like that my mom came with baggage.”
Mr. Park’s eyes narrow. “You are not baggage.”
His fierce tone sends currents of buzzing electricity through every nerve ending. I shift on my feet and chew on my bottom lip. The copy room is completely silent aside from our breathing that seems to be heavier than before. It feels as though all the air has been sucked from the room, leaving me hot and desperate for a cool breath.
The door bumps into my ass and I yelp in surprise. Mr. Park’s features harden and he barks out, “May I help you?”
“Callum?”
Mr. Park’s nostrils flare and he curses under his breath. Not like he’s ashamed of being in here with me, but as if he’s annoyed we’ve been interrupted. I give him a knowing smile. This moment feels like our little secret and I want him to know I won’t give him away.
“I’m teaching Miss Reyes to use this dinosaur of a machine, Miss Collins. You’d think Mr. Erickson could find a way to budget for a better copier machine,” Mr. Park says. “Do you need in here?”
Mr. Park grabs a handful of papers off the shelf and pushes them into my hand. He motions with his head for me to go over to the copy machine. I wriggle past him, my body brushing against his in the process. He stiffens and I can feel the heat of his stare burning into me. As soon as I’m at the machine, he opens the door.
With my back to them, I try not to look guilty. But I am guilty. I’ve been flirting with my teacher all alone. Given the time, who knows what would have happened. My skin flushes as they talk in friendly voices behind me.
“Let’s get you back to Mr. Erickson, Miss Reyes.”
I jolt at being addressed and set the papers down on a shelf. If I don’t make eye contact, maybe Miss Collins won’t see how badly my mind is still racing with steamy fantasies about Mr. Park.
Once we’re in the hallway and traded places with Miss Collins, I shoot him a questioning look. I’m not sure why I need reassurance, but I need it. I need to know what I felt in that room wasn’t my imagination. That he felt it too.
His penetrating stare bores into me, his expression giving nothing away. My heart sinks until he tugs at the knot on his tie.
“They should also see about fixing the air conditioner in there too,” he grumbles, though it sounds teasing. “We could have suffocated in there.”
My skin flushes and I fight a smile. “I did find it hard to breathe.”
Oh my God.
We’re absolutely flirting.
Shamelessly and in the hallway. At school.
“It’s probably good we escaped when we did then.” He winks at me again before growing serious. “Are you going to be okay? At home?”
I deflate like a balloon, dropping my attention to the scuffed linoleum. “I will.”
He steps closer, enveloping me with his faint cinnamon and apple aroma, until his shiny dress shoes come into view. “You’ll tell me if you feel…unsafe?”
I tilt my head up, searching for his eyes, to discover him towering in front of me. So close it feels intimate. So close the heat of his body washes over mine.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I promise.”
His nostrils flare and he leans closer. My eyes flutter closed as I imagine him dipping for a kiss. Instead, his murmured words tickle over my face rather than his lips. “Good girl.”
Male voices from down the hall have Mr. Park stepping away from me. I pop open my eyes just in time to see Darren and Mr. Erickson round the corner.
“Willa,” Darren calls out. “I’ve checked you both out for the rest of the day.”
I wince at the thought of riding home with both Levi and Darren after everything that’s transpired today. But it’s not like I have a choice. Nodding, I quickly make my way over to him. Darren places a heavy hand on my shoulder and squeezes. It makes my skin crawl. He’s not exactly the fatherly or affectionate type.
Feeling helpless, I glance at Mr. Park. He watches with a blank expression that leaves me hollow inside.
Darren ushers me out of the school and away from Mr. Park. The cold, wintery air blasts into me, making me wish I’d worn a coat today. His suped-up black Camaro is parked in the fire lane out front. Levi is leaning against the car, arms crossed as he waits.
“In the car. Both of you,” Darren growls, releasing his hold on me. “I’ve had enough bullshit today without having to deal with this.”
He hits the fob, unlocking the vehicle. Levi opens the door and lifts the seat, motioning for me to sit in the back. “Ladies first.”
I ignore him and slide into the back. Once they’re both seated and buckled in, Darren peels out, his lame rock music blasting through the speakers.
I wait for him to yell, like he’s known to do, but he doesn’t. It’s not until we’re home and making our way inside that he finds his voice again.
“Are you a fucking idiot?” Darren snarls at Levi. “I could go to prison for that stunt!”
Darren backhands Levi, sending him crashing against the wall. Levi grunts, rubbing at his cheek, a fearful glint in his normally mean blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Levi mutters. “I was just having some fun.”
“Fun?” Darren’s eyes narrow and the vein in his neck throbs. “When were these pictures taken? Before or after Willa’s eighteenth birthday?”
“After,” Levi says quickly. Too quickly. “I swear it.”
“And you,” Darren snaps, turning his venom on me. “Stop traipsing around our house half-naked like a little whore and maybe this shit won’t happen. For Christ’s sake. Go to your rooms before I beat the fuck out of both of you.”
I shudder at the threat. Darren hasn’t hit me, but he’s hit Levi and my mom both enough for me to know he would do the same to me.
“I’m sorry,” I croak out. “It won’t happen again.”