Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I grinned at Cecelia. “Correct.” I looked to the rest of the class, pointedly avoiding Frances’s eyes. “And why did the US enter the war?”
“Because of some submarine that Germany took down!” Caden Rivers, the captain of the football team, said. “I just watched a movie about it on Amazon! It was freakin’ awesome. All of those guys were freakin’ badasses!”
“That’s correct,” I confirmed. “Today, I want you to write a short summary of chapter thirty-one in the book. If you read your chapter over Christmas vacation like I asked, you will find this fairly easy. It discusses…”
I continued my lecture, then allowed them free time to write their summaries.
Usually, I’d spend more time lecturing and not requiring them to read the chapter because I found that they learned more hands-on than they did reading chapters. However, I was exhausted.
My uterus was killing me, I’d gotten no sleep last night because I was so nervous about being sandwiched between the two most hated people in my world, and I just didn’t have it in me.
Luckily, they all finished their summaries, giving us enough time at the end of class to have our wind-up random fact of the day.
“What is today’s random fact?” a boy from the back asked as he started to pack up.
I leaned back in my uncomfortable teacher’s chair and said, “Pick a number between one and ten.”
The boy tapped his lips with his index finger before saying, “Seven.”
“Did you know the last person who died building the Hoover Dam was the son of the first person who died building it?” I asked.
There was a pause as everyone digested today’s random fact, and then, “That one’s awful, Ms. Sweat.”
“Okay.” I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Well then, how about…” I tapped my own lip before coming up with one I’d seen on a video last night. “Did you know that MLB umpires have to wear black underwear in case their pants split during a game?”
Everyone groaned. “That’s boring.”
I laughed and stood up, stretching my arms up high over my head.
Yesterday, I’d gone to a class at the gym that focused on functional fitness.
The only problem was that the class usually made functional fitness outside of the class impossible.
For instance, we’d done snatches—and I’d giggled ridiculously at the name of the movement all during class—and though they hadn’t been too hard at the time, today I was still feeling the five a.m. class in my shoulders and neck.
I could barely nod my head without a weird clicking pop happening below my skull.
Getting older was always fun. You learned new and exciting ways that your body was breaking down before your eyes.
I saw a student’s eyes widen as she looked out the door of the hallway, and I moved so that I could look out, too. I was fully expecting to see Rupert or Jolessa there, but that wasn’t who I found.
I looked over, my mouth falling open slightly, and stared at the gorgeous man walking down the hallway toward my classroom.
He had a fluorescent green visitor’s tag on his left pec, and the instant recollection of him hit me full force.
The man from the coffee shop.
I’d clocked him the moment he’d entered the shop.
At first, I’d been stunned because he’d been as big as my brothers—every bit of six-foot-three or four. He was a big man. Muscular. Not in a bulky way, but in an “I’ll kick your ass without even trying” way. He had wide shoulders, a sexy neck that led into an even sexier jawline—one that was covered in the perfect amount of hair that could still give you the dimple in his chin for your viewing pleasure.
He had dark-brown hair that was cut into a tapered fade, longer on top so that it looked like he could style it—if he wanted to.
He had dark, hooded eyes with the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen.
He’d been wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that fit his ass perfectly, a gray long-sleeved Henley, and a really expensive watch that I knew I saw Tibbs coveting.
And that sexy man was literally walking down the hallway, getting closer and closer and closer until it was apparent where he was going.
He was still in the jeans and gray Henley. The sleeves, however, were now pulled up to his forearms, displaying a perfectly unmarred forearm and one covered in tattoos all the way down to his wrist.
He, of course, pulled off both looks.
And generally, I wasn’t exactly attracted to tattoos—they just weren’t my thing. But on this man? They were definitely my thing.
I positioned myself in the door of my classroom, keeping my body perpendicular to the door so I could see both directions and said, “Can I help you?”
He came to a stop not too far away from me and nodded.
“I need help finding a Ms. Petrov,” he said as he took a look past me into the classroom.