“You?” That is all that leaves my mouth before Aaron pipes up.

“Dad!”

Dad? I mouthed silently, with growing horror.

The man releases me and lets Aaron run up to him, lifting him up.

One hand on his son’s shoulder, he studies me, “Well, hello.”

Instincts tell me to hiss at him, like a cat, but the brain cells that had not been fried by this sudden encounter, tell me to act like a professional.

So, I bare my teeth in a smile, and grit out, “Fancy meeting you here.”

His eyes widen at what must have been a maniac look on my face, and the corner of his lips twitch, “Are you Aaron’s class teacher?”

I shake my head, and at Aaron’s panicked look. I say, slowly, not wanting to lie, “I’m a senior teacher here. Since Aaron stays back late, I asked him to help me out with some of the artwork in my class.”

Then, with an afterthought, I add, “I hope that’s not a problem.”

“No, problem,” Those eyes that had haunted me this entire weekend, now move over my frame with deliberate slowness, “Miss -?”

“Abby Johnson.”

“You look much too young to be a senior teacher, Abby.”

Was he for real?

I could sense that he was trying to rile me up, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

However, now that I had had a moment or two to collect myself, I feel more in control. So, I just give him the coldest look I can muster, “Would you like to see my credentials?”

He raises his hands defensively, a small smile playing on his lips now, “There’s no need to get so angry, Abby.”

I hate that he had decided to call me by my first name, as if that was his God-given right. I also hated the tingling sensation in my lower abdomen when my name was on his lips.

When he extends a hand toward me, I stare at it, as if expecting it to bite. That amused him even more, and he introduces himself, his tone like velvet strokes along my skin, with rough undercurrents, “I’m Steven Tanner.”

When I hesitantly take his hand, I feel his firm grip and the callouses on his palm. My heart stutters in its ribcage, making me scowl.

His smile broadens when I force the words out of my mouth, careful of Aaron staring at the both of us, “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Tanner.”

There was a strange light in his eyes when I pull my hand away. A flicker of curiosity, but it vanished as soon as it appeared.

Then he chuckles, his eyes going to the top of my head, “That’s a very nice hat.”

Blushing fiercely, I grab the paper-hat I had made on whim and hid it behind my back, “Y-Yes, well. Aaron and I were- “

My eyes guiltily went to the sword that Aaron was still holding in his hand, “We got done with our work early.”

“I’m sure you did,” Steven murmurs, his eyes fixed on mine.

I want to throw a cloth on his face to cover it. There is a predatory gleam in his eyes as they watch me.

There is a glimmer of the man that I had seen on Friday, but now I see another side of him that puts my back up.

He is wearing the same overcoat I had seen him in before, and a sharp suit underneath that did not have a single wrinkle on it.

“Well,” I cough, tearing my eyes away from him and looking down at Aaron. “I’m going to need that sword back, Aaron.”

He stares at the sword and then at me, and then reluctantly hands it to me.

“Don’t look so glum,” I tell him, still grinning. “If we get done early tomorrow, we can play again.”

“Really?” His eyes widen so much that, for a heartbeat, I worry they would fall out.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay! Bye, Miss Abby!” With that, he abandons his father and rushes outside, as if the sooner he leaves, the quicker he could return.

Steven watches him leave and turns around to look at me.

Uh oh.

He puts his hands in the pockets, and I can’t help but be drawn to the trim muscular build of his body that the act pronounced, “I’ll see you around, Miss Abby.”

He smirks at me and then walks out, following his son’s footsteps.

I don’t know why I was scowling as I watch him leave, but I really wanted to throw the eraser at his head.

As I watch the car roll away from the window of my classroom, I collapse into my chair, deflated.

“Who was that?”

I jump at Scarlett’s voice and look up to see my roommate standing at the door, a heavy faux fur coat hanging from her curvy frame. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I was in the neighbourhood and asked Sharon to give me a ride here.” Scarlett settles her hip at the edge of my desk, “So, spill! Who was he, and where can I get one of those?”

I tuck my tongue in my cheek, “You remember that guy from Friday?”

Scarlett blinks, “The one who insulted your car?”

“Gertha. Her name is Gertha.” I snap.

“Yes, yes. Move on. Was he the same guy?”

Still smarting from the insult to my baby, I mutter, “Yeah. He’s the father of one of the students here. Steven T-something.”

Scarlett stares at me and then reaches out to hit me, making me wince, “What the hell was that for?”

“Steven Tanner?! The Steven Tanner?”

Rubbing my head, I watch her whip out a magazine from her purse and shove it in my face.

“Ugh, what the hell is your problem, Scar- “

My voice vanishes as I see the man who had just been standing in my small classroom, on the front page of the magazine.

“That’s him,” I breathe.

Scarlett tries to snatch the magazine back from me, but I held her off, drinking in his image. There was no coat in this picture, just a midnight-blue power suit and those deadly eyes looking straight at the camera, his hands in his pockets. His hair had not been styled, but it looked like someone had run their hands through those thick strands, and I pursed my lips together, tightly.

“He’s amongst the top ten richest bachelors in Boston. He’s a freaking billionaire.” Scarlett’s voice held awe.

I hand her back the magazine, my tone dry “So, that’s how he can afford those wheels. Whatever, money can’t buy you a personality.”

“Live in the real world, Abby.” Scarlett kicks at me, forcing me to dodge her heeled boot.

“Will you stop hitting me all the time!” I glare at her.

My roommate just rolls her eyes at me, “This man is wasted on you, Abby.”

“He’s not anything on me,” I manage to say through gritted teeth. “Now can we please go home?”

Of course, that didn’t mean anything to Scarlett, who kept pestering me with questions about him on the way back.

“For the last time, I don’t know whether he’s single or not!” I growl at her.

Undeterred, Scarlett flips through the magazine at the interview with him, “He doesn’t like to talk about his ex-wife. Maybe I should Google her up.” She mused.

I wanted to bang my head against the steering wheel.

“Please stop telling me about his life. I don’t want to know.” I groan.

“Why the hell not? The man is sex on a stick. What don’t you like about him?” Scarlett says in a demanding voice.

I had no answer for her.

What could I tell her?

That the way he looked at me made me feel like he was undressing me with his eyes? Or the way his hand had felt on my skin melted something inside me?

Hands tightening on the steering wheel as I take a sharp left-turn, I snap out, “You wanted to set me up on a date with your friend, didn’t you? What happened to that?”

Scarlett blinks, “I thought you said Travis was a dick.”

“I said he looks like a dick,” I corrected her.

My friend makes a noise, “Yeah. He tends to give off that impression but he’s actually really nice. And he’s wonderful in bed.”

“And you would know that how exactly?” I eye her.

She laughs, airily, “One time, in Bali. Just once. You don’t mind, do you?”

I sigh at her worried tone. I just needed instant sex that would put me in control of my raging hormones, “No, I don’t mind. Set me up with him.”

As we reach home, I get out of the car, and peek at her over the hood, “Just how good?”

Scarlett just smiles.