Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
He chuckled. “What makes you think I don’t care what other people think?”
I smirked. “Duh. You’re a math teacher.”
“Which is an admirable profession.”
“Mr. Collins, I’m not sure admirable is the right word. I wasn’t an A student in English, but admirable implies people admire you for being a math teacher, like they think being a math teacher is cool and you make them want to be a math teacher.”
He snickered. “Miss Jacobson, you’re thinking of the word envy or inspiring. Admire or admirable means you regard someone with respect. It can also mean you look at someone with great pleasure. I don’t want to be an astronaut, but I admire them.”
I giggled. “And you probably look at those centerfolds with great pleasure, huh?”
“Well, putting yourself out there like those women do takes a lot of courage. If that’s not admirable, then I don’t know what is.”
My side hurt from laughing so much. His gaze slid to my shoulder, and my breath hitched when his fingertips brushed my skin as he slid my bra strap up my arm and back onto my shoulder. Then he let his gaze slip to my chest.
I swallowed, lips parting to accommodate an audible breath. Either I was a total idiot, or he was attracted to me. But it scared me to assume anything because I didn’t want to be wrong and feel like a fool—a naive child.
“What’s next?” I whispered.
Kyle’s gaze lifted to mine.
“Target shooting with a gun or a bow?” I asked.
Something akin to relief washed over his face. “This weekend, I can get out my bow.”
I grinned. “Need me to find you a babysitter?”
“Nah. Josh has a bow too. Just come over early Saturday morning if you’re not working. Tell your parents Josh wants to show you his archery skills.”
“Should I feel guilty that you’re making excuses for me?”
He looked at my chest again and mumbled a “no” before wetting his lips.
It sent goosebumps along my skin, and I tried to control my breathing, but my heart ran wildly out of my control, chasing a feeling that I wanted to be real.
“It’s not an excuse. If I ask Josh if he wants to show you his bow and arrows, he’ll say yes.” He cleared his throat and jackknifed to sitting, running his fingers through his hair.
I sat up, too, and threaded my arms through my cold, damp shirt before standing. When he reached for me, my heart almost stopped. He gathered my long hair in his hand and pulled it out from the back of my shirt.
His gaze followed his hands like he was mesmerized by my long hair as he let it fall down my back. The way he looked at me felt intimate and sexy.
He never would have done that to a student. I don’t think he would have done that to Gabby, either. I wasn’t crazy. His subtle gestures weren’t simply kind; they were more.
“So I’ll see you in the morning,” I said before my knees buckled.
“In the morning,” he echoed.
“Thanks for letting me drive your boat.”
Kyle grinned. “I think I’m getting the better deal, but you’re welcome.”
“Because I spent more time watching Josh than you spent teaching me to drive your boat?”
“Sure.” He winked. “That too.”
CHAPTER TEN
FOREIGNER, “SAY YOU WILL”
Eve
“You’re glowing,” Grandma Bonnie said, adjusting her glasses with her arm while she crocheted from the recliner in her room.
Lillyann McDonald, a junior at the high school, played the piano in the foyer just down the hall from Grandma’s room. She was trying to get volunteer hours in for college applications. I closed the door for a bit of privacy and so Grandma could hear me past the piano.
“I think I’m on the verge of doing something stupid, but I don’t know how to stop,” I said.
Grandma Bonnie paused her hands and eyed me over the top of her glasses. “Well, my dear, I guess the question is, do you want to stop? And if you don’t, what are the consequences?”
That right there was the reason I spent so much time at the nursing home. My parents would never have given me that response. They would have beaten the truth out of me with a big guilt trip and the threat of spending another moon cycle locked in my room.
“I don’t want to stop, but I also don’t know the consequences for sure.”
“Is it dangerous?”
I shook my head.
“Illegal?”
Again, I shook my head.
“Does it involve a boy?”
I grinned.
She nodded slowly and returned her attention to the half-finished blanket on her lap. “Have you prayed about it?”
I giggled. Grandma didn’t believe in God but supported what she called my parents’ need to “imagine.”
My dad always corrected her with the word “faith” or “belief.”
“I know God’s answer,” I said.
“But?”
“But …” I sighed, plopping onto the bed. “But what if God’s answer is really just my dad’s voice in my head. Maybe God would be like, ‘Go for it, Eve. You only live once.’”