A young teacher loses her keys one evening and has to get a ride home from her colleague, the music teacher Mr. Nelson. This is a short story idea from @bluerainbowbrite as we discussed a student stealing my keys once years ago. It is up for grabs i...
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"You know, you keep calling me, Mr. Nelson, there's gonna be trouble." He softly chuckled, teasing, hoping she would find it charming. Usually, things had always been so easy with women, the chase ending in minutes with bodies crashing into each other. She, on the other hand, had been a different venture altogether, hard to read, hard to place, and instead of losing interest, it only spurred him on even more.
Lids fluttering coyly, she peered above the rim of her porcelain mug. "Good trouble or bad trouble?" Lipstick left a perfect pink kiss over the edge as she finished her sip. Slightly licking the chocolate remnants at the corner, she waited for his answer.
In that moment, as his body begged to be the cup she held so carefully in her delicate fingers, he finally realized she was actually flirting with him. It was vague, and she wasn't very good at it, but she was flirting. She had been leaving breadcrumbs all evening, and he followed them, right to her door. They were gentle, slight, things you could easily brush off as misunderstandings. Something she used to keep the ego guarded, he wondered how many men missed her subtlety, getting lost in her word play, giving up before they even knew they had a chance.
"Hmmmm." The sound escaped him as he widened his eyes, then narrowed them quickly as he looked at her. Prince made it all too clear that he was aware of her game, but he needed her to understand how badly he wanted to play.
The intensity of his gaze was too much, and Evie hurriedly looked away. "Sorry." The apology fell from her as a crutch, but she wasn't sure what instance she was sorry for. That word always left her lips, a blanket statement for insecurity. "It's just a habit, you know, from the kids... respect and all..." Her words disappeared as she folded into herself nervously, adjusting her thigh from pressing against his, disheartened she placed the cup on the table and readied to say goodnight. Fearing the conversation had gotten stale, any hope she had held began to fade. Their future date, a goodbye kiss, just a little more time with his company, all slipping easily from her grasp.
"Yup." Another small phrase left him. His words were nothing barely sounds, but his eyes surveyed every inch of her beneath the lamp light. Feeling her body shift away, he leaned back in, savoring the rustle of layers as their bodies drew closer. He knew exactly how to bring her attention to him. "Archeopteryx."
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