Falling Through Darkness Read online

  Clenching my teeth, I have to force my jaw apart in what I hope kind of resembles a smile more than a grimace that shows exactly what I’m feeling.

  “Actually, we’ve met, have we not, Alex?” The way he pronounces my name, the way the syllables roll off his tongue, is clearly sexual. He seems to caress it in a way I can feel deep inside of me, causing me to shiver. Clearly giving the impression we know one another intimately.

  “Wait.” Emma looks at me with a confused frown. “I thought you didn’t know each other.”

  Damn, that’s what I get for lying. What did I expect? Looks like fate isn’t done screwing me over, or maybe it’s karma. The smirk Duncan throws my way should have let me know he won’t be doing me the favor of pretending we never met.

  Fine, two can play this game.

  “Do we?” I ask him, tilting my head to the side, studying him from the top of his head to his sneaker-clad feet. Damn, he sure is sexy in a pair of track pants and a long-sleeved Henley that shows off his muscles. I bet he’s the gym teacher, or coach of whatever sport is popular at this high school. “Well, for the life of me I can’t remember. Must not have been very memorable.” I smirk, pleased with myself to see the cocky smile vanish.

  He steps so close he’s just barely not touching me, and I can feel his heat radiating off him. “Are you sure?” he asks, his tone is neutral, but the heat in his eyes is not. “Because I distinctly remember the shirt you wore, the purple sure made your eyes pop.” His gaze travels down my body suggestively, practically undressing me, uncaring that Emma is standing right next to us.

  I’m standing there like a fish out of water, not knowing what to say. His words might have sounded innocent, but the way he ogled my body, lingering a little too long on my breasts, tells a different tale. I’m no idiot, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he was thinking back to when my shirt was plastered to my chest and probably see-through on top of it due to the liquid drenching it.

  Once he’s done perusing my body, he winks at me, fucking winks, before leaning back and saying casually, “We met Saturday at the Labor Day party my neighbors threw. Remember?”

  “Oh, well… That’s great… I mean…” Emma stutters, clearly unsure how to deal with the tension, most of it sexual, between the two of us. Duncan seems unrepentant, that smirk still stretching his lips.

  Ugh, why do I have to have such a strong connection with someone I work with and who is clearly a jerk. Probably a manwhore, too.

  Trying to save Emma further embarrassment—the poor girl is turning bright red—I try to break the awkward silence. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me what a jerk you are. I appreciate that.”

  Emma chokes on air at this. Oops, guess this didn’t help with the embarrassment after all. I turn away, looking for the coffee before he can make a smart-ass remark, causing me to either jump him or smack that stupid smirk off his face, causing an even bigger scene. I find a cup next to a full pot of delicious dark brew. I need something to not only occupy my mind but also my hands. I prepare myself a cup and take a sip.

  Moaning, I close my eyes. This coffee is surprisingly delicious.

  Suddenly, my eyes spring back open. Was that a growl I heard?

  I can feel my brows draw together when I look back toward Duncan, who’s scowling at me. What now? “What?” I ask genuinely confused.

  “Nothing. I need to go prepare for my first class. The assembly will be over soon.” With one last heated look at me, a nod to Emma, and a quiet, “Ladies,” he turns on his heels and walks out of the room.

  “Oh, my God. Girl, what was that all about?” Emma asks me, fanning her face. “I can still feel the sexual tension in the room. I about suffocated just standing close to you two.”

  I heave a sigh. “It’s nothing, trust me. Attraction is something that fizzles out fast. I bet by this time next week he won’t even know I exist anymore.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Her eyes bored into mine, giving me the impression she sees past my mask. She smiles in what seems like understanding and squeezes my arm. “But regardless whether you believe it or not, I’m gonna enjoy the show of you being proven wrong. Mark my words. You, my friend, are gonna eat those words one day soon, and you’ll owe me,” she exclaims joyfully.

  I can’t help it, but her bubbly personality is infectious. While I will never be as lively as her, I can’t help but smile at her antics.

  I take another sip of my coffee, hiding my smile behind the cup and watch her animated face light up. “I know, you owe me a bottle of wine this time next week when that hunk of a man has proven you wrong, and I win.”

  “Fine,” I say while chuckling. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Sweet.” Her smile is positively blinding. “Well, after all this excitement, let me introduce you to some of the other teachers. They’re all really excited to meet their new colleague from Europe.” She gives me a warm smile before taking my arm and steering me around the room.

  After introductions have been made, she finally leads me out of the teachers’ lounge toward my classroom. Thank God, I’m not sure I could have taken much more socializing. My classroom seems to be on the other side of the school from the teacher’s lounge and entrance.

  Emma opens the door for me and steps aside, letting me go through first. I look around when I enter the room. The walls are bare and lack any kind of character. Hopefully, I’ll find posters and other titbits to decorate the walls with and make it… less bland. There is nothing worse than to study in a place that looks about as welcoming as a prison cell. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of the students actually thought of this place as a prison. I remember sometimes I did, too. What kid didn’t?

  This is perfect; another way to start fresh, figuratively and literally.

  Smiling, I walk toward my desk in the corner. I put my bag down and turn to look at Emma.

  “Thank you for showing me around. I appreciate it. Do you know when my first class will show up?”

  “Oh! Yes, I’m sorry! I completely forgot to give you this,” Emma says, holding a sheet of paper toward me. “Mr. Harris gave me this for you. It’s your schedule. I understand Miss Reynolds has given you her lesson plan for the first two months?”

  “Yes, she emailed it to me and gave me some pointers. Which I appreciate, since I filled in on such short notice I haven’t really had time to prepare.”

  “Awesome. Your first class should be here in about five minutes. And don’t worry, everyone knows you just arrived, so no one expects you to give a full lecture on Hamlet or whatever it is you English nerds like to talk about,” she says with a wink. “See ya later!” With that, she bounces out of the room.

  “Bye, Emma.”

  I stare after her for a minute, wondering what Mr. Harris has told the student body about the new English teacher. Maybe I should have attended that welcome meeting too, just to know what to expect. Sighing, I turn to my new desk to get started, hoping this day and my new life will go as planned.

  Chapter Five

  When the last student leaves my classroom at the end of the day, I collapse into my chair exhausted. Who would have thought being from Europe is such an attraction to high school student? I have been fielding questions about where I’m from, what I’m doing here, why I left, to some bordering on inappropriate.

  Kids are exhausting.

  At least I now have a general idea as to where they are in their aptitude and a basic idea of a starting point, despite all the questions. It won’t be easy coming in on such a short notice and picking up someone else’s lesson plan.

  But it will be fun, I’m sure. Insert sarcasm. I’m not one for sticking to the rules too much though; I’m more of a they-were-meant-to-be-broken person.

  The first week is pretty much planned already, I received the study plan before I came here and was able to prepare some. Seems poetry is up first. While I’m not a big fan of it myself, I’ve always enjoyed teaching it. Seeing the surprise on their faces w
hen I show them what it can be besides the old stuff from two hundred years ago is why I do this job.

  Twisting my head from one side to the other in the hopes of relaxing my shoulders, I start packing up my things off my desk—getting ready to leave for the day.

  I need some wine, chocolate, and a relaxing soak in the bathtub.

  Standing in order to leave, I take one last look around the place that will hopefully be a part of my future for a while.

  I grab my bag and move toward the door when I stop dead in my tracks.

  Are you kidding me? What’s he doing here?

  “Can I help you?”

  My feelings must have shown on my face because Duncan heaves a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. “Look, I came here to apologize for this morning, and Saturday. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. I’m not usually this forward, especially at work. I—”

  I can’t help but scoff at this. I have a hard time believing he’s never done this with a woman before. I know, my cynic is showing, but I’m too exhausted to care.

  “I’m telling the truth, but I can see you don’t believe me.” Is that disappointment in his eyes? I can’t quite make it out before his expression shutters. “Like I said, I just wanted to apologize for being inappropriate and welcome you properly. Even if it’s not wanted.”

  Shit, I didn’t mean to be this big of a bitch. Or well, I kind of did but now regret is filling me. If I’m not mistaken, I see genuine contrition on his face, even if I can still make out the sexy smirk barely hidden and the mischievous spark in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help but be a bitch sometimes. Let’s just forget what happened and start over, as colleagues. We’ll be around each other during the day, so we might as well move on and be friendly—I guess.”

  My little speech, for some reason, causes Duncan to smile broadly, his white teeth just about blinding me.

  “Sure, let’s forget how your body reacts to my proximity. But I gotta tell you, it won’t be easy for me. You’re beautiful, and I enjoy sparring with you.”

  I have to smile at this. I doubt many people tell this gorgeous man no, especially women. Rolling my eyes heavenward, I pray for divine intervention. Hoping I haven’t inadvertently presented this guy with a challenge he can’t refuse. I bet he’s had it too easy in the past and enjoys the chase. And I have no interest in him chasing after me.

  “How about we try, all right? You’ve had your fun, now let’s move on.” I try for casual, but he’s right, I can’t forget my body’s reaction to him—not then and not now. It’s like an invisible string connects us and every time he’s close it tightens, letting me know he’s near and winding me up, coiling tight, waiting to burst. And I’m afraid what will happen if it ever does.

  “Sure, you try, baby. But you’ll realize something soon, I’m not someone who gives up easily,” Duncan drawls, giving me his smirk.

  Shit, this is what I was afraid of. While most of me wishes he’d go away—gets bored of me and leaves me alone—a tiny part of me is ecstatic at the prospect of him not giving up on me.

  “Great,” I grunt and move around him to leave the school, and he falls in step beside me.

  “So, how do you like it here so far?” he asks me, breaking the awkward silence.

  “I love it. The area is beautiful, and while not part of the city, it’s still close enough should I want to venture into the center for some reason.” I can’t help but respond enthusiastically. Today, while eventful, has been amazing. Everyone is extremely welcoming, making me feel at ease.

  While we walk down the hallway making idle small talk, I think back over our conversation. And something hits me. So, if he’s never behaved that way with a woman, why did he with me? Surely, it can’t be just because he’s attracted to me. That’s preposterous.

  Before he can comment on what I said, I change the subject as we walk out the main doors.

  “Why’d you do it then?” When he looks at me curiously, I stop to clarify, causing him to stop with me. “You said you never behaved the way you did with me before with a woman. What made you do it? Why be such an asshole?”

  He visibly startles and looks away; I guess he didn’t expect me to ask him why he behaved the way he did. Good. Maybe he’ll be honest now.

  Clearing his throat, he looks back at me. Biting the inside of his cheek, he seems embarrassed. Seriously?

  “Look, I know this is gonna sounds crazy, and like a cheap excuse, but I was really drunk Saturday. And I tried to help, but instead of being charming I ended up being an asshole.” He seems sincere, but I’m confused.

  “Help me? Why?” I genuinely want to know. I mean I know I was a mess that day, but surely it wasn’t that obvious, was it?

  “Well, you looked miserable when you stepped out of the bathroom with your makeup all smudged. I wanted to take your mind off whatever troubles you had,” he says while a blush colors his cheeks. “You’re beautiful, and I intended to flirt, not—”

  “Wait,” I interrupt him. I take a breath trying to calm myself, I’m furious at the ridiculousness of his excuse. This asshole can’t be for real. “Let me get this straight. Instead of asking if I’m okay like a normal person, you pretend to be into me? For what? Your own bloody amusement? Did you get a good laugh out of it afterward, huh? Had fun toying with me in a moment where I was already in a bad place?”

  I’m livid at his ridiculous excuse, who does this shit? I wish I could yell at him, let all of my frustration and anger out at him, but we’re at work so I can’t. He opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t let him. I don’t want to hear more lame excuses.

  “You know what? First impressions are right, you’re just like I thought you were. Stay the fuck away from me,” I ground out, trying really hard not to let my anger explode out of me. I turn to storm toward my car, trying unsuccessfully to prevent the tears from filling my eyes. I don’t understand why this hurts so much. He’s just a guy, someone I barely know. I shouldn’t bloody care.

  “Alex, wait!” he yells after me. “I know it was a stupid thing to do, and it obviously came across the wrong way, but you’re misunderstanding me.”

  “I don’t give a shit. Go find someone else you can entertain yourself with, Duncan.” My voice breaks on his name.

  “Shit.” Guess he heard that.

  I try to beat him to my car, but I’m not fast enough, his longer strides easily catch up with mine. Grabbing my arm to stop me, he turns me around to face him; his hands holding me are surprisingly gentle.

  I avoid his eyes however, looking at the ground while I’m desperately trying to put my mask back on and fighting the tears. No need to show him how much he hurt me.

  “Alex, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I wasn’t lying; I am into you. Very much so. I didn’t realize you would think I was playing you because I wasn’t, I swear.” His voice is quiet and gentle. The pleading is quite obvious.

  He sure makes it sounds like he’s sorry, but can I trust it? I know I’m a cynic, but when life tries to teach you the same lesson repeatedly, at some point even the most obstinate optimist learns it and changes their ways. I’ve been fucked over one too many times. I can’t go through it again.

  When I don’t answer, but instead start to look for my keys in my bag, he moves his hand to my neck, squeezing gently. Still avoiding his eyes, he forces my chin up until he can catch my gaze. It’s too soon; I can’t shutter my expression all the way. And I’m pretty sure the tears swimming in my eyes give away most of what I’m trying to hide—how much it hurt what he did.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean—”

  I can’t take it anymore, fearing I might break completely, I hiss, “I don’t give a shit what you did or didn’t mean. I’m done here.” With that I tear myself out of his grasp.

  I move the last few steps toward my car, unlocking it with my keys. I rip open the door and glide into the seat. I’m about to slam the door shut when he grips it.

  Fuck, I just can’t catch
a break.

  Since I can’t slam the door shut, as I have no doubt his hold wouldn’t budge, I huff and stare straight ahead.

  “Jesus,” Duncan whispers. “Someone sure did a number on you, didn’t they?” Kneeling next to me in the open door, he puts one hand on my leg, squeezing softly, not touching me any other way. Yet, I can’t help but flinch, still raw from the emotions swirling around inside of me. I don’t understand what’s going on with me; why I’m feeling anything but indifference right now.

  “You need some space to process, I get it. But let me tell you one thing, and you gotta listen and actually hear what I’m saying. I want to see where this attraction can take us. You should know, I’m not afraid to go after what I want. Whatever happened to you in the past that twisted shit in your head, I will do my damnedest to help you untwist it. Whatever it is, I’m willing to help. I’m not planning on going anywhere.

  “So brace yourself, baby. Because you can do whatever you want—call me names, run, push me away—I won’t give up. I’m a stubborn motherfucker. And after seeing your reaction to me, the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking, I’m going to try my damnedest to win you over. And I usually get what I want.”

  He whispers the last sentence seductively, and I can’t prevent my body’s reaction, and I hate myself for it. It’s drawn to him, reacting on a carnal level to the seductive timbre in his voice, the heat radiating off his body, the feel of his thumb rubbing my leg.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, thinking that what? You can be my Prince Charming who rides in on his steed protecting the damsel in distress? I don’t believe in fairy tales. Prince Charming is usually the asshole fucking the princess over or getting drunk and beating the shit out of her. I’ve made enough mistakes in my life to finally have learned when to step the fuck away. Now move before I stop caring and run you over with my car.”

  Heaving a sigh, Duncan gives my leg one last squeeze before letting me go. “All right, Alex. But be warned, I don’t plan on stopping until I’ve proven you wrong. Someone has to.” With that, he moves away from the door, letting me close it. With a shaking hand, I press the button to start my car before I drive away.