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

Tate gave her a stern look. “He’s not that bad, Laney.”

She stared at her in pure disbelief. “Who are you? Do you not hear the things he says to me all the time?” Turning to Raine, she asked, “Do you not remember how it all began? From the awful moment he introduced himself?” Cringing inwardly, she could still remember it as if it were yesterday.

She had been ready to start off the school year—her first year of teaching, mind you—as perfect as possible. In the teaching world, however, nothing was ever perfect. Regardless, she was trying to maintain positive thinking while combating the nervousness at being on her own, having her own classroom for the first time. Ever.

She recalled walking to the Media Center with Raine, who had one year of teaching under her belt already. Her friend had put in a good word for Laney with her principal and she’d been hired on at the same school. Raine was Laney’s best friend and roommate from when they attended the University of Florida. Since Raine had decided to take a full course load two summers in a row, she had graduated first, securing a job at the school where they taught.

The two women were headed down to the ‘meet and greet’ session for the faculty and staff before their first meeting of the year commenced. They entered through the large doors of the Media Center and Laney absently smoothed her hair, trying to tamp down her nervousness. She had been about to turn and ask Raine which table she wanted to sit at when she saw him.

Rooted at the spot, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Dressed in pressed khaki pants and a short-sleeved polo that showed off the impressive muscles in his arms, he looked a little more than six feet, fit and athletic. He enjoyed being outdoors, judging from his healthy-looking tan. With short, dark blond hair, a square jaw, and lips that shouldn’t be allowed to be on a guy—they appeared so full and soft—he was every woman’s fantasy. When his eyes met hers, she nearly gasped aloud. Holy crap, his eyes were like the most beautiful painting of a stormy gray sky. When he began to walk toward her, she tensed. Glancing behind her, seeing no one, she panicked because surely this guy wasn’t coming to talk to her. Was he?

Oh, shit. He is
.

He came to stand before her, appearing a little hesitant, sliding his left hand into his pocket while thrusting out his right hand to her.

“Zach Mayson. I’ll be teaching fifth grade writing and English.”

God, even his smile was perfect, damn it. It just wasn’t fair.

She reached out to clasp his hand and when she felt his fingers wrap around hers, she swore she saw his own eyes widen, mirroring her own. That was just freaky, because, well, his hand holding hers had felt … right.

Clearing her throat, she introduced herself, “Laney Kavanaugh, fifth grade social studies.” Ending their handshake, she restrained the urge to groan a little at breaking the contact.

“Social studies, huh?” he asked, rocking back on his heels, assessing her. She had chosen a lavender wraparound dress with teal and white block patterns on it. On her feet were her favorite wooden wedge slides.

“You might want to rethink your attire with all those young, hormonal boys.” His smile set her on edge.

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He held up both hands in surrender and her fingers itched to slap the cocky smile from his face. “Hey, now. I’m just trying to say that having a teacher looking like you would inspire a lot of lust … and possible lawsuits.”

Was he for real?

She wasn’t about to hang around just to be insulted more. Too bad those good looks were wasted on him. She cut him off, strong sarcasm in her tone. “While it was super fun talking to you, Mayson, I need to find a table to sit at where I won’t be insulted about my attire.”

“But—”

Ignoring his sputtering, she turned on her heel and found Raine, speaking with their new principal, Mr. Pratt.

Laney shuddered at the memory, coming back to the present. “That man is wretched and has been from the start.”

Raine and Tate exchanged a look that she wasn’t sure she liked. “What was that?” Her eyes were squinty as she gestured between them.

Raine just smiled sweetly. “Nothing, sweetie.”

“We just think that maybe you two could work through your, uh, differences with all this.” Tate nodded, her blonde bob swinging as if to add emphasis.

“And, sometimes, boys are stupid and do stupid things. Like tease girls they like and pull their pigtails.” Raine’s green gaze locked onto Laney’s hazel eyes pointedly.

“Sometimes it’s good to pull a girl’s hair, though, if she likes it,” came a deep, masculine voice from Laney’s doorway.

Raine’s head whipped around, long, wavy black hair sliding over her shoulders. Her face lit up with a wide smile when she saw her fiancé, Mac, in the doorway.

Laney put her hands over her ears. “Please don’t speak of your bedroom escapades in front of me. La, la, la, la, la.”

Mac smiled and there was that infamous dimple of his, making itself known. If he weren’t like a brother to her, she would probably find herself swooning over that man.

“So,” he slid his hands in his pockets, leaning against the door jam, “you and Mayson, huh? Can I get tickets to that show, please?” He smirked.

Raine and Tate glared at him. “Seriously, Mac? We just got finished telling her it was going to be a good thing for them to work together,” came Raine’s reprimand before the two exchanged a look.

What the hell was with her friends and these mysterious looks all of a sudden?

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But this is a good thing, because maybe now Zach will get the nerve to—”

“It’s time for us to head out, isn’t it?” Raine’s words were rushed as she stood, pushing in her chair.

Tate rose, smoothing her chin-length blonde hair. “Yeah, I forgot that I still have some things to print off so I’ll walk with you.”

Laney’s brows furrowed. Why did she feel like she was missing something here?

“Um, o-kay,” she said slowly. “Bye, guys.” She watched as her friends nearly sprinted for the door, leaving her in the silence of her classroom to wonder how the hell she was going to get through this.

The idea of teaching kindergarten suddenly became appealing to her—even though there was a plethora of germs, snotty noses, damp shoelaces to tie, and whining.

She wasn’t entirely sure dealing with Zach would be the better option.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Z
ACH RAN HIS HANDS OVER
his short, blond hair and gave a sigh. Surveying the lesson plans he had been using, tweaking them here and there along the way, he couldn’t help but worry about how this whole collaboration thing was going to work with Laney.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Laney rushed into his classroom, the sour look on her face at odds with the cheery, blue dress with orange polka dots she wore. He really shouldn’t find the dress appealing since those were colors of her alma mater, The University of Florida, and he had gone to an opposing school, The University of Central Florida. But, said dress was on Laney Kavanaugh. That, in itself, changed everything.

Setting her planner, lesson plan binder, and curriculum guide down on the table with a thunk, she slid into the chair across from him, tossing her long, brown hair back over her shoulders. She fixed her hazel eyes on his, lips pursed, a despondent expression on her face.

Opening up her binder to the first lesson plan for the school year, she forged right in. “I usually start them off with a recap of the branches of government,” she began, looking over her plans. “Maybe we can give them examples to help them grasp the concept. For example, we give them titles like teacher, principal, custodian, cafeteria worker, or whatnot and they have to place them in the correct category. We can divide the students into small groups, assign them a scenario such as ‘What if the cafeteria workers want to add something new to their lunch menu? Who do they have to go through to authorize the change?’.”

Laney glanced up, catching him watching her.
God, she’s so hot when she goes all ‘smart teacher’ mode on me
.

Her gaze narrowed on him suspiciously. “What? Did I speak too fast for your tiny brain to handle? Or maybe I should get some crayons to explain it to you?”

And, just like that, the moment was gone.

* * *

He tossed her a dirty look before gesturing to her lesson plan binder. “If I’m going to go along with this and change my first lesson of the year to align with yours, then I should get to take the lead on the next one.”

“Isn’t it easier to just go over my plans and modify yours to correspond?”

Zach stared at her incredulously. “So I’ll be the one who has to do all the work? Um, let me think about this for a moment.” He paused for a millisecond. “No.” His lips were pressed thin with irritation. Lips that were normally full. The kind of lips you immediately knew would feel soft against your own.

Wait, what? No. No. No
. Her brain needed to stop being a damn traitor.

“Well, that would make the most sense, Mayson.” She threw her pen down on the table in exasperation.

“To you, maybe,” he said sarcastically, his voice getting louder. “Because you’re not the one modifying all of your lesson plans!”

Laney threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! We can alternate.” She inhaled deeply, as if trying to calm herself. In a gentler tone, she offered a suggestion. “Why don’t we make copies of our lesson plans for each other, and then we can go over them and make notes on where we could correlate something with the other person’s subject matter?”

Zach stared at her a long moment—so long that she began to think he was going to fight her on this, too—before finally nodding. “I’m cool with that.”

“Great.” She exhaled loudly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she stood from the table. “All right, I’ll go make those copies. Then, I’ll stick them in your box—”

“That’s what she said.”

His response made her eyes go squinty.

“In your mailbox in the teachers’ workroom,” Laney replied through gritted teeth. Without another word, she gathered up her items in her arms and walked to the door of his classroom.

She needed to get out of there before she stabbed him with her pen. In the jugular.

“Later, sunshine,” he called out, just as she reached the doorway.

“Later, douchecanoe,” she mumbled under her breath.

His laughter trailing after her as she returned to her own classroom indicated that maybe she hadn’t mumbled that quietly enough.

Oops.

Not.

* * *

Laney had been feeling quite accomplished at avoiding Zach and having their contact consist of emails and notes left in their mailboxes in the workroom. She should have known this feeling would be short-lived.

“Why, there’s Little Miss Elusive! Have you been hiding from me, darlin’?”

Was it possible to have convulsions by merely hearing that voice? She was nearly certain one was coming on.

“I would say I was quite successful up until this point, wouldn’t you?”

Wide-eyed with faux innocence, Zach gasped. “But … but why ever would you want to avoid someone as sweet as moi?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not even remotely French. Don’t go there.”

“You’re being diff-i-cult.” He said the last word in a sing-song voice.

Seriously?
It was as if it were his life’s ambition to annoy the shit out of her. Laney laid her head down on her desk and softly thudded it against the wood. “Why me, why me, why me?” she mumbled repeatedly. She felt a hand on her shoulder and it instantly gave her shivers.
Odd
.

Raising her eyes slowly, gaze wary, she saw Zach standing beside her with a worried expression upon his face. It was so foreign to have him be anything but irritating or mean to her, she felt thrown off kilter. Like,
waaaay
off kilter.

“Laney, we can do this. I promise.” He spoke softly, his expression genuine. Without him wearing the usual sneer or sarcastic smirk, she could actually focus on how his eyes were a beautiful shade of gray. They reminded her of the stormy rain clouds coming in over the Atlantic right at dusk.

And had he ever actually spoken to her in that gentle tone of voice?

“Yo, Laney! I need your help with something, please, gorgeous.” Lawson wandered in the room, redirecting her attention from the moment—or whatever it was—that she and Zach were having.

“Oh, hey, man,” he greeted Zach. Walking up to her, Lawson leaned against her bookshelf, stroking his short, neatly trimmed blond beard. “I borrowed this book from you last year and it worked out well with the lesson I did. Can I borrow it again? It’s called,
Miss Rumphius
.” He tilted his head to the side, smiling imploringly, his blonde curl slightly shifting upon his head.

“Of course you can, handsome.” She winked, and gestured in the direction of the main bookshelf nearby. “It should be on the top shelf, there.”

Laney sighed as she continued to watch Lawson thumbing through the books. Lawson was such a cutie. Goofy sense of humor, yes, but definitely cute. Why did all of her guy friends have to be so freaking attractive when there was no chemistry between them? Someone upstairs must have a really sick sense of humor.

And he had such beautiful hair for a guy.
I should probably ask him what conditioner he uses, because God knows I could use so
—

A throat being cleared loudly snapped her out of her musings. She turned to look at Zach, whose eyes were narrowed on her with a brow raised.

So she did what any mature woman would do.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

I
T WAS THE DESIGNATED DINNER
night Laney’s mother had enforced, having them all gather at her childhood home for a home cooked meal. Laney loved her mother’s cooking, especially since she prepared Italian dishes which was her heritage.

Laney and her brother, Foster, inherited much from their father, their lighter skin and light brown hair contrasting with their mother’s trademark Italian features of a darker complexion and hair. Laney hated that she didn’t resemble her mother more than she did. The only attribute she’d inherited from her mother was her full hips and breasts. While the latter might be great in attracting men, there were many women who would agree that ample hips weren’t always a cherished attribute.