Carter

When I’d overheard Reagan’s conversation on stage, I’d grinned my ass off. At the time, I hadn’t understood why she’d indicated Elena wanted me. It was as if Reagan knew the teen me was a douche and had dated the bitch of the century. But I’d had no idea how she’d known, or even if she had known my history with Elena, the girl who’d happily put out. Needless to say, I’d been confused as hell.

And that all happened before I touched her ass.

I still couldn’t believe I’d done it, but when her friend didn’t help her out, I saw it as my duty to lend a helping hand.

From the first moment I’d heard her as I stood behind that curtain, I was captivated.

She made me laugh with her wit.

She charmed me with her actions.

She intrigued me with her attitude.

I wanted to know all about Reagan Wild.

While she’d seemed familiar, I sucked at placing the puzzle pieces together. It wasn’t until Elena mentioned Reagan had gone to school with us that it all clicked into place, and hell if I was dumbstruck for a moment.

Back in high school days, I hadn’t known her name, but I’d seen her around. When I had, I took notice. I just didn’t let anyone know I was ogling her. Why? Because back then, I was the biggest douche out there. Reagan was different to the version of the girl people expected me to be with, and back then, I’d been too concerned with what everyone thought.

Foolishly, I’d ended up with Elena. She’d been picture-perfect in looks, but some of the things that came out of her mouth, I’d wanted to slap her for. Obviously, I didn’t hit women. Ever. Instead, I’d pretended my life, the two years with her, were awesome, despite being interested in a girl who I hadn’t known much about.

At least I’d grown up since then.

Only Reagan didn’t know it and probably thought I was still an arrogant, shallow prick.

The memory of the day still stung, the one when I realized that was exactly what the girl I’d crushed on thought of me.

“What about that one?” Mark pointed to a girl a few desks over in the library. She was short, blonde, and curvy.

Henry snorted. “Yeah, and I’d have to roll her in flour to find the wet spot. No way.” My three friends chuckled while I wanted to punch the dick in the face for the comment. Still, my smile stayed firm because I was a fake dickhead who cared what they thought about me.

“That one?” Paul pointed to another bigger girl.

“Jesus. You idiots just want all the pretty ones for yourselves and give me all the heifers. Don’t think so. I’ll find someone to take to formal yet.” Henry complained.

“Oh damn.” Mark laughed. “That one’s for you, Henry.”

I clenched my jaw when Mark pointed out yet another larger girl. I didn’t see the problem with any of them. Hell, they were pretty in their own way. Something out the corner of my eye caught my attention. I glanced there.

Fuck.

It was her.

I’d seen her around for a long time, but it was the last few weeks she’d grabbed my attention more and more. She was stunning, with long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and curves I wanted to run my hands over.

She stood on the other side of the bookshelf from where we sat at the table pretending to study, and I knew she’d heard everything that was said so far.

My gut tightened.

“I think I just threw up in my mouth,” Henry said, and then pretended to gag. They all laughed, and I caught Paul looking at me, so I added my own chuckle into the fray.

Which made me feel like an even bigger asshole.

Her face darkened in disappointment, at me I guessed. Since I’d started taking notice of her, I’d spotted her on more than one occasion looking my way. As if she liked what she saw. Of course, I’d preened over it. I’d even flexed a few times when I discreetly saw her looking.

And now I’d just fucked up by going along with my friends and their dickish ways. Not that I’d do anything about my attraction to her. Hell, I was moving out of town in a few days. Still, I hated the fact she’d heard them and would think I was just like them. But maybe I was. Laughing along was just as bad as making the comments myself, right?

Even as I answered question after question in her class, I couldn’t get my mind around the fact Reagan was the same girl I’d lusted after years ago.

There had to be some way I could win her over.

Make her see I wasn’t the douche I had been.

Make her see the curves she still had caused all the blood to rush to my dick since he was picturing me running my hands over them.

Jesus, dude. Now isn’t the time to think about that shit in a class full of kids.

“Yes?” I asked, taking a few steps forward and pointing to a kid with thick glasses.

“Is it true after football you’re looking at coaching?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have a bachelor’s degree and a teaching certificate from my time in college.”

“So you didn’t just waste your time partying and hooking up with—”

“Bradly,” Reagan warned. Some kids snickered. I glanced behind me to see she’d said it without raising her gaze; instead, her gaze was on a paper she pulled in front of her.

Smiling, I shook my head at the kid. “At first I let loose a bit. I mean, it’s college. I wanted to have some fun. But then I realized I also wanted to have something to fall back on when football finished. I wanted to do something that I knew I’d like, so I had to find the tools to make sure I could see it happen when the time came.” I paused. “Football isn’t forever. It wears on your body a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I love the game, but everyone needs a backup plan in case it fails, because playing a sport there’s always a risk of injury. One so bad you can’t play the sport again, and instead of spiraling down into the dark pits of regret, though you’ll still have them, you move on eventually, and by completing a degree in fields that prepare you for the future, it’ll mean moving onto something you enjoy doing hopefully.”

Behind me, I heard Reagan suck in a surprised gasp of air. I glanced to see a soft smile forming on her lips. She nodded once at me, and it seemed as if she were proud of my explanation. My attention went back to the students. They looked at me like I’d just told them the wisest thing they could learn in life. All their reactions felt good.

Reagan’s the most.

God, I wanted to know everything I could about the woman.

But would she let me?

I wasn’t sure, but I’d try.

A bell sounded in the room. Reagan stood and came around the desk. “Class, please thank Mr. Anthony for his time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Anthony,” most called out.

The kids started to pack up their things while Reagan moved back around the desk to do the same. It was lunchtime. I had one more class I had to visit after lunch, a sophomore math class, but I found myself not wanting to. If I had my way, I’d be back in Reagan’s class. I was now annoyed with stupid Steve, the phys ed teacher, who was ripe on the nose, for taking up more of my time and making me late to Reagan’s. Her class was fun, her students all seemed to adore Reagan as their teacher, and I wondered if her other English students were as easy as those.

“Lunch,” I stated like a caveman at her side. I was surprised I didn’t grunt and add, “You go with me,” then pound my chest.

“Ah, yes. It usually happens around this time of day.” She started for the door. A few kids called a farewell to her. She waved and smiled back.

I had the feeling, with her fast pace, she was trying to get away from me.

“Are you going to the teacher’s lounge?” I asked, keeping up with her stride.

She glanced to me and then back in front of her. “Um, yes?” It came out like a question. Did I make Reagan Wild nervous?

“I’ll join you then.”

She tripped, righted herself, and then stopped altogether.

Before she could say anything, I did. “I remember you from school.”

A flash of utter shock crossed her face, and then she frowned. “Okay?” she said, uncertain.

“Let’s just have some lunch and we can talk,” I offered.

Something close to unease dipped her brows for some reason. “Uh, I just remembered I promised I’d have lunch with Brooke in her office, so we can….” She bit her bottom lip, obviously trying to think of something. I wasn’t so bad to have lunch with, right? Shit, she probably still thought I was a dick.

“Look, I’m not the same—”

“Yoga!” she all but shouted, and quickly glanced around us. Students and some teachers were watching our exchange with interest.

I raised a brow and crossed my arms over my chest. “You and Brooke do yoga through lunch?”

She clutched her bag to her chest and nodded. “Yes?” She shook her head. “I mean yes we do.”

Smiling, I shrugged. “That’s good. I don’t mind yoga.”

Her gorgeous eyes widened. “You can’t.” She rubbed at the back of her neck.

“Why?” I questioned slowly.

“Um…” She coughed, and again glanced around quickly. She leaned in a little. God, she smelled edible. Out the corner of her mouth, she said, “We do it naked.” She groaned, like she couldn’t believe that lie just left her mouth.

“Naked?” I questioned, my lips twitching instead of laughing my ass off like I wanted to.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I could do that.”

Hell yes I could do that. Naked yoga with Reagan would be a delight. One where I’d have to try to keep my hands to myself… so maybe it was a nightmare because I wasn’t sure she’d be happy with my wandering hands.

At least not yet.

Not until I won her over.

Until I proved to her I wasn’t a prick.

“No, sorry, it’s, um, women only.”

“Just you and Brooke?”

She cleared her throat. “A-and sometimes Heather.”

“The librarian?” I’d met her briefly after assembly, and suddenly I was shuddering. Heather was in her late sixties, had a mullet and hairy legs.

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Right.” I chuckled. “I get the feeling you just don’t want to have lunch with me.”

She laughed, sobered, and then forced a laugh again. Yeah, Reagan was nervous, and I swear if she looked around again, as if she were after someone to save her, I was going to spank her ass. My company wasn’t that bad. While I liked her being nervous, I didn’t want her to feel like she had to run from me or get someone there to distract my attention so she could escape.

“It’s not that,” she mumbled, but I still caught it.

“Then what is it?”

She sighed. “Fine. We’ll be friends. Okay? Now I really have to get to… um….”

“Yoga?”

“Yes. Yoga.”

“Naked yoga.” I smirked.

A blush lit her cheeks and she cringed. “That’s right.”

“But we’re parting as friends?” I was happy with that. It was better than nothing. So I pushed a little. “And if we’re friends, we can exchange numbers.”

Her eyes flashed wide. “Why?” she shrieked, then slammed her lips shut.

“Carter,” I heard, and I wanted to groan in pain. “You waited for me. That’s so sweet,” Elena said, appearing out of nowhere.

“Ah.” It was my turn to try and think of something to say.

Elena curled her hands around my bicep and I wanted to push them away. “Are you coming to lunch? We can do some catching up.”

“Actually—”

“Great!” Reagan shouted. I narrowed my gaze at her. She’d better not leave me. Then she smiled. “That’s a brilliant idea. I have to head off…” She backed up. “Things to do….” She backed up again. “Have a nice lunch.” Then she turned and dashed away.

Elena snorted. “She’s weirder now than she was back in the day. Come on.” She smiled and led me toward the teachers’ lounge. I had seen it on the quick tour I had after assembly. “It’s been so long.” Elena giggled, and I cringed. “Are you in town a while?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. I was actually moving back, but she didn’t need to know that.

“That’s great,” she purred.

Christ.

We entered, and right away I noticed Brooke, Reagan’s friend and colleague, talking to Tom by the coffee machine. Stepping away, I wiggled my arm free. “I’m just getting a coffee. Do you want one?” I asked Elena, even when I didn’t want to. I was polite after all.

“Sure. I’ll grab you some food and we’ll meet at the table.”

“Thanks,” I said half-heartedly over my shoulder, already moving toward Brooke.

“Carter, are you enjoying your time here?” Tom asked as I stopped beside them. Brooke eyed me up and down with a smile on her lips.

“I am. Thanks again for having me.” I nodded. Looking to Brooke, I said, “I thought you were having lunch with Reagan and doing naked yoga?”

She froze, her wide eyes comical. Tom thumped his forehead and then shook his head, while Brooke stuttered, “Y-yeah, um, naked yoga.”

“Don’t you do it every lunch? Reagan said you did, which was why she couldn’t have lunch in here.”

Tom sighed, tipping his head back he gazed at the ceiling and muttered, “I seriously need to get her head checked.”

“Yes.” Brooke nodded. She put her coffee down. “Can’t believe I forgot about… naked yoga?”

“That’s what Reagan said.”

She laughed. “Right. I’ll just, ah, go and grab some food for us both, to uh, keep us sustained for…”

“Naked yoga,” I supplied.

“Yeah, that’s it. Excuse me then.” She went to shift around us.

“Brooke?” I called.

“Yes?”

“Reagan didn’t get a chance to give me her number before she had to go. I don’t suppose you could give it to me?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then said, “You want her number?”

Why was it so hard to believe?

I nodded.

Tom cleared his throat. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

I chuckled. “Yes.”

Very sure, I am.

Jesus, I sound like Yoda.