Caroline

“You gave us a scare yesterday,” Karla says the next morning. We’re in the staff room, preparing for the day. The kids will arrive any second now.

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry. Good as new.”

“When did you get back to San Francisco?”

“Late last night. With the hotel’s shuttle service.”

Truthfully, I arrived this morning. I’m lucky I arrived in time at all. I woke up with a start at six o’clock in the morning and nearly had a panic attack when I realized Daniel was sleeping next to me, and I’d be late for work. He was still sleeping soundly when I left the room.

The hotel staff was kind enough to arrange my transport, but I still arrived at the school in the nick of time.

Last night was reckless on so many levels that I can’t even wrap my mind around it. The moment he kissed me, my common sense flew out of the window. Nothing existed except him. It was wild, unexpected, and my pulse spikes just remembering it.

When the kids arrive, they bombard me with questions. “Where were you yesterday? Why did you get sick? Are you going to be sick again?” I spend more than half an hour calming them down, then distract them from the incident by asking them to tell me about their adventures. And while they talk my ear off, I can’t help remembering my own adventure. Daniel pops in my mind, and then memories of last night rush in: the sinfully delicious touches, the bliss of feeling him inside me again... the way my heart thumped when he said he didn’t want the night to end.

Damn heart! It always longs for what it can’t have—or worse, for what it shouldn’t want, no matter how perfect it felt to be in Daniel’s arms again. It felt like home, like I belonged there. But this was a one-time thing, a night of weakness. Nothing more. 

I can barely concentrate on our lesson—the life cycle of a butterfly—and during the first break I walk into the staff room determined to do better for the rest of the day.

Helen’s already inside, motioning to my bag, which I forgot here. Well, am I not a complete scatterbrain today?

“Your phone rang a few times.”

“Thanks.”

Walking over to my bag, I take out my phone. I have two missed calls from Daniel, and a message. 

Daniel: Sorry I slept like the dead. Didn’t hear you leave. I’ll be back in San Francisco in the afternoon. Can I take you out for a ristretto? Still your favorite coffee, right?

My face instantly breaks into a smile, my heart skips a beat, and I’m tingling in the most sensitive places covered by my silk underwear. Yep, the whole package... all because he remembers my favorite coffee.

We’re both creatures of habit. When we’re eighty, his favorite pizza will probably still be capricciosa, and my favorite coffee ristretto macchiato. And he remembers.

The longer I linger on that thought, the more excitement builds inside me, filling me with an almost jittery energy.

“Caroline? Everything all right?” Helen points to my hands.

“Oh, yeah. Had a strong coffee this morning.” 

“Are you sure you don’t need to take the day off? Karla told me about what happened yesterday.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” The last thing I need is for Helen to think I can’t do my job. She’s the principal’s daughter, and while she seems to like me well enough, I can’t be too careful. Allergy or not, I forfeited my responsibilities yesterday.

“Okay.”

I head out in the yard, intending to stretch my legs, walk off some of this energy. I also need to eat my sandwich, or my stomach will start growling midway through the second lesson since I skipped breakfast.

Halfway through eating my sandwich, I’ve almost calmed down completely, but then my phone rings, Daniel’s name appearing on the screen. I’m tempted to mute it and call him back after my workday is over, but that wouldn’t do much good. If I don’t talk to him, I’ll spend half my time wondering what he had to say. Besides, I’m a strong, independent woman. I will not fall back in love with Daniel over a hot night, or because he remembers my favorite coffee.

Sandwich in one hand, I lift the phone to my ear with the other.

“Hey,” I greet him.

“Hello, Caroline.”

Ah, two words into the conversation and my skin is already humming. To my defense, my name in his mouth sounds just as sinful as it did last night.

“You didn’t reply to my text.”

“Ristretto is still my favorite,” I say playfully, knowing full well this isn’t the answer he was looking for. I’m just a chicken, always have been. Between blaming my loose tongue yesterday on the Benadryl, and my vagueness now, I’m taking my tendency to chicken out to a whole new level.

“I want to take you out. For coffee, or dinner.”

“We have after-school activities until six, and I already have plans after.”  

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What?” I ask in alarm, accidentally brushing my sandwich against my top, smearing mayonnaise just over my left boob. Fantastic. Sighing, I carefully weigh my words. “There’s no need to talk about anything, Daniel.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m shocked,” I mutter, and he chuckles. “But I can’t tonight, really. Already have plans.”

“Tomorrow?”

Well damn, he’s persistent. “I have plans every evening after work this week.”

“What plans do you have on Saturday, birthday girl?”

He remembers my birthday!

“Ironically, not so many. I’m having lunch with Dad, but we can meet in the evening.”

I can’t ignore him forever, nor do I want to. At the latest, I’ll see him at some Bennett event, and it’s best to get the awkward out of the way before. Why did I have to complicate things and sleep with him? After our breakup, I pulled away from his family, because the whole thing was too awkward. But after Mom died last year, I grew closer to Jenna Bennett—Dan’s mom—again. I rekindled my friendship with Summer and Pippa. I don’t want to give that up, and I want Daniel in my life too, but in a safe way—in a platonic way.

“Excellent. See you on Saturday. And look out for my gift.”

“You don’t have to buy me anything,” I say quickly, but my voice sounds unconvincing even to my own ears. I love presents in any way, shape, and form.

“Oh, I do. Making up for falling asleep and all that.”

“You’re going to milk this for all it’s worth, won’t you?”

“You bet. Plus, I know how happy presents make you.” 

Oh man, here come the butterflies in my stomach. There might be a bit of toe curling involved too. How on earth am I supposed to keep things platonic?