Hard To Handle (Teach Me Book 2) (14 page)

Sneezing four times in a row, she tossed a wad of tissues into the overflowing trash bin next to the couch. She couldn’t bring herself to care about it. Or anything. She laid there, sprawled on her couch, trying to muster the energy to go and make herself some soup.

That wasn’t looking likely. She flipped through the channels on the television—finding nothing but crappy shows—before letting out a groan of disgust. She was pathetic. Why? Because she felt like the walk over to her DVDs in the cabinet beneath her TV was far too taxing at this point.

Just as another round of sneezing hit her, she heard the doorbell chime combined with loud knocking on her front door. Because, apparently, ringing a person’s doorbell wasn’t enough these days.

“Go away,” she muttered hoarsely.

When the ringing and knocking stopped, Laney’s eyes fell closed on a sigh of relief. Only to snap back open at the sound of her phone vibrating on the end table.

“Ugh! Leave me alone,” she grumbled, reaching for the nuisance. Without a glance at the caller ID, she growled into it, “What do you want?”

The sound of male laughter greeted her. “Oh, sunshine, you are bad off. Let me in so I can make you some soup.”

Zach was on her doorstep? No. She was just … eww. No other human should see her like this. She was disgustingly sneezy, snotty, congested and she wasn’t even sure when she had last showered.

“Please go away. I’m dying and if you get close to me, you’ll die, too.” She broke off to sneeze four times consecutively. “I’m pretty sure that can be considered manslaughter or something.”

He chuckled. “Just let me in, Laney. I promise it’ll be okay.”

She exhaled loudly. “Fine. It’s your funeral.” She ended the call, heaved herself up off the couch, and stumbled to the door, shoving the wad of tissues she’d had in her hand into the pockets of her zip-up hoodie. Laney flung open the door and turned around without greeting him, making her way back to the couch only to fling herself down upon it.

She heard Zach setting items down on the kitchen counter, then opening and closing her cabinets. Soon, Laney drifted off to the sounds of a reality show involving a man being hired to try and catch a bunch of rabid raccoons. Her last thought was that she was grateful she’d decided to become a teacher. The next thing she knew, someone was gently rousing her from her sleep.

“Laney,” came a deep voice, speaking softly.

Bleary-eyed, she squinted up at Zach. “What are you still doing here?”

“You need to eat something.”

“It’s too far to go to the kitchen.” God, she sounded so pathetic. She would cringe if she had the energy. Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off the couch and walked over to her kitchen table. Zach set her down gently in one of the chairs, scooting his own chair close to hers.

“You’re feverish so we need to get some food in you, first, since your mother mentioned you probably haven’t eaten.” Her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. “Then, we’ll get you showered.”

Zach spooned some chicken noodle soup for her and held it up to her mouth. As soon as she tasted it, she knew it hadn’t come from a can.

“You made this for me?” she croaked.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You’ll feel much better after you get something in your stomach.” His voice was gentle and nurturing, two things she never thought she would attribute to Zach.

She finished the entire bowl of soup, surprised at how hungry she had been. At the sight of the empty bowl, she leaned back against the chair with a sigh. “Thank you.”

The softness in his eyes made warmth run through her. The last time a guy had taken care of her when she was sick was, well … never. Aside from Foster, of course, and he didn’t count. But, the fact that it was Zachariah Mayson taking care of her? That was a completely jarring realization.

“Don’t overthink it, Laney,” he told her, his solemn gaze on her.

* * *

Zach could tell she was about to freak out and he needed to snap her out of it. So he did the only thing he could thing think of—he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into her bathroom. Carefully setting her down on the lid of the toilet, he went about getting the shower ready for her. Once the water was adjusted to a decent temperature, he helped her up to assist her in removing her clothes.

“You going to be all right in here by yourself?” He unzipped her hoodie and pushed it over her shoulders, tugging it off her arms.

She gave the slightest smirk. “You asking for an invitation?”

He shook his head before he lifted her tank top over her head. “Nope. Just worried about whether you’re feeling weak or lightheaded.”

Zach watched as she closed her eyes for a brief moment before pushing her pajama pants down her legs. “I think I’m good.”

“You want me to stay, just in case?” he offered. He was concerned that she might fall in the shower from lightheadedness brought on by her fever.

Tiredly, she asked, “Um, would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Keep your eyes on hers. Above the neck, Mayson. Above. The. Neck
. He kept repeating this to himself as he helped her into the shower. His gaze slipped down over her graceful back and her ass before he closed his eyes on a silent groan.

Sitting down on the toilet lid, he leaned his forearms on his knees, head in his hands, disgusted with himself. She was sick and feverish, and had just eaten for the first time in God only knows how long, and here he was ogling her?

“Zach?”

His head jerked up at the sound of his name. Only to wrench his eyes away to stare at the wall. Damn Laney and her clear shower curtain.

“Yeah?”

“Um, I hate to ask this, but, um … could you help me wash my hair? My arms just feel like they’re going to fall off. But if it’s too much to ask, I understand.”

He’d already begun to peel off his clothes and was in the shower by the time she’d finished speaking. Letting the warm water wash over them, he turned her to him, directing her face away from the spray. Lashes wet, trickles of water running down over her face, free of any makeup, Zach knew that even with those normally vibrant hazel eyes weary with exhaustion, he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

He savored the moment of washing her hair, massaging her scalp, her eyes falling shut with a tiny moan. Because this was the Laney she never let anyone see. The Laney who wasn’t dolled up in fashionable clothes and makeup. The Laney who never asked for help because she was so fiercely independent. But she hadn’t asked anyone.

She had asked only him.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-O
NE

L
ANEY’S CLASSROOM WAS FREEZING COLD
. All. The. Time. Except for, oh, twenty minutes before her lunch period and then again at dismissal. Because that made total sense, right?

It was eleven o’clock in the afternoon and time for her current group of students to head to their next class while she would have her lunch break. Just as she opened her classroom door and toed the doorstop into place, she decided to rid herself of one of her cardigans. Yes, she had on two cardigan sweaters because if you lived in Florida where it could be near eighty degrees in February but you worked in what felt like Antarctica during the day, this is what one had to do.

Leaving her thinner black cardigan on and carrying the other one back into her classroom to toss over her desk chair, she returned to the doorway to start calling her students to line up. But something lying on the floor near the outside corner of her opened door caught her eye. It was small and purple.

“What in the world is that?” she asked her students, pointing to the fabric.

“Looks like someone’s underwear,” commented one student. “That’s pretty gross, Ms. K.”

“Uh, yeah. Super gross,” she agreed. But the more she examined the random pair of underwear on the floor outside her classroom, the more she realized they looked familiar. Familiar as in …
Oh, shit, they’re mine
.

Just then, the door opened up across from her. Zach’s students were about to switch classes. He put in his door stop, glanced over at her, and then down to the underwear lying on the floor. With curious amusement, he raised an eyebrow.

Laney gave him a terse shake of her head, begging him to not say anything. Then, removing a pencil from the students’ communal pencil cup nearby, she made a show of scooping up the panties with the tip of the pencil. She walked over and tossed them into the trash bin beside her desk that she used primarily for discarded paperwork.

“Eww. Let’s try and keep the panties at home, kids,” she joked, and her students laughed.

“Ms. K., it’s not every day we get greeted with panties at the door!” one of them joked.

“Is that a sign of good luck?” she quipped.

“Probably,” a few students agreed, laughing.

After Laney led her students to their next class, she returned to her room, letting the door close behind her and sat down in her desk chair. Lying her head down on it, her shoulders shook with silent laughter. She really needed to use dryer sheets regularly.

She heard her classroom door open. “Hey, Kavanaugh,” a familiar male voice called to her and she could hear footsteps getting closer. Then, the voice lowered. “Or should I call you ‘The Panty Dropper’?”

Raising her head off the desk, she saw Zach standing over her, eyes alit with amusement and they both burst into laughter. Holding her sides, she giggled. “I really had to try and act like they were some random, gross pair of panties.” More giggles. “Oh! I have to get them and put them away now that the students are gone.” She reached into the trash bin that was nearly empty but for two sheets of ripped paper. Retrieving the panties, she went to stuff them in her work bag, but Zach caught her wrist.

“Wait a minute. This is one of my favorite pairs.” He took the underwear from her, tucking it into his pocket. “You can’t go throwing those around the students.”

“What are you throwing around the students?” Lawson had just entered her room. “I was coming to ask you if I can borrow an overhead transparency marker real quick but this sounds way more interesting.”

“Laney’s throwing her thong underwear on the floor in front of her students,” Zach told him casually.

“Shhh!” Laney hissed at him.

“Okay,” Zach told Lawson in a loud-whisper, “I’ll tell you later about how she accidentally tossed a pair of panties outside her own doorway.”

Laney threw a transparency marker at Lawson, which he caught in one hand with a wink.

“Laney, you’re a bad, bad girl.” He clicked his tongue at her before turning to leave the room. Tossing over his shoulder, he added, “And I like it!”

Rolling her eyes at Lawson’s back, she saw Zach return his attention to her. “Want to have lunch together?”

Laney hesitated. “Um, I was just going to grade papers so I won’t be so late getting out of here today.”

“No problem. I actually have some to grade, too.” He gave a shrug. “Just thought it would be nice to have some company, someone I can bounce some of these answers off of since it’s tough with the subjective ones.”

Well, when he put it that way. It was just him asking for her help, one teacher to another. She couldn’t say no. She was trying so hard to keep that wall in place, the one that she felt he tried to topple over a few times already with the Christmas movie marathon and helping her when she was sick with the flu over New Year’s. And, because they were just having sex, she didn’t want to blur the lines with a friendly lunch.

“Oh. Okay, sure.” She knew there was a good chance her smile looked forced.

“Great! I’ll go grab my lunch and papers and I’ll be right back.” Zach was out the door before she knew it.

With a sigh, she pushed back from her desk and stood to walk over to the back counter where her mini fridge sat with her leftovers in it. She had just opened it, and reached in to pull her lunch container out when Zach reentered her classroom.

“Oh, I forgot. The guy made a mistake on my order and made up a veggie sub so he gave it to me. You want it?” He held a wrapped sub out to her while the other dangled from a bag hanging from his fingers. Laney was rooted to the spot. It was like the whole Adam and Eve apple thing.
Should she take it? Would he make more of this if she did?

“It’s just a sandwich, Laney.” Zach’s tone was gentle and his eyes made her feel like they knew the conflicting thoughts in her mind.

“Okay,” she finally answered. “We can sit and spread out at my teaching table.” She gestured to the large rectangular table in the front of the room where she conferenced with students on their projects, either one-on-one or in small groups.

“Sounds good.” Zach headed over to the table.

I could do this. It’s just lunch amongst coworkers. The guy had accidentally made the wrong sub for Zach. No big deal, right?
She reached into her fridge to grab her favorite brand of sweet tea when his voice stopped her.

“Oh, hey, I grabbed a sweet tea for you when I was checking out. I just happened to see it.”

No big deal?

More like she was in deep shit.

* * *

Zach knew he was pushing his luck with the whole ‘Oh, the guy at the sub shop totally made a veggie sub by accident’ when Zach always ordered a turkey, salami, and ham sub. It wasn’t like that was top secret information, either. He knew he should have left it at the sub, but no, he had to push it with the sweet tea.
Idiot
.

As they ate in companionable silence, he asked her for her input on some of the writing samples he was assessing. She was a great source of feedback because she managed to provide unbiased comments, regardless as to whether a given student had behavior issues in class.

At the end of their brief lunch break, they had both graded nearly all of their papers and cleaned up their trash. Laney walked to the back of her room with the other half of her sub to place in her mini fridge.

“Thanks, again, for the sub.”

“Anytime, Kavanaugh.”

“Well, you shouldn’t say that because, really, how often is it that they’ll mess up your sub order and make a veggie sub instead, right? Probably never.” She gave a small laugh tinged with the slightest bit of panic.