Chapter 7: I was just playing along because...

As soon as I looked up, I saw Rusty disappear around the far corner of the hallway. He walked toward the main entrance, head down, with his hands tucked into his pockets and a folder stuck under one arm.

Shit.

Without taking a second to process my options, my legs carried me faster than I intended until I caught sight of him again. With the thought that this could be my last chance - to get some answers, of course - I just couldn't help myself.

"Rusty." I didn't have to raise my voice much for it to carry through the empty hallway.

His head snapped up and he looked back. Then, that damn smirk twisted one side of his lips upward. "Thought the Loner was usually in a hurry to get out of school."

"Doesn't work as well when you're the teacher." With ten steps I'd closed the distance between us. I kept my shoulders back, head up, trying to appear confident when I felt nothing of the sort. "Are you really okay?"

He made a sound in his throat and leaned against the wall to face me. "I'm just tired. It's been a long week..." Letting out a long breath, he raised his head to the ceiling. "Or half a week, I guess."

A kid sped around the corner, almost tripping over the rug and going headfirst into the glass door in the process. Teacher mode kicked in. "Jeffrey, no running."

He wasn't one of my students, but I'd had him a few times the year before while subbing - a quiet kid, who always seemed to find trouble.

"Yes, Miss Kline." The child lowered his head and ducked through the door as quickly as he could, but my breath caught in my throat at the sound of my name.

"Loner has a last name," Rusty mused, and almost instantly, some of the rough edges around his face disappeared.

"And you have a kid," I said with more venom than intended as I spun back to face him.

His eyes widened, but his unbalancing smirk didn't fade.

I looked down at the tile floor and readjusted the bag on my shoulder, I hadn't meant to call him out on it but there was no turning back. "You're not a teacher, so why else would you be here?"

"I have a nephew."

Guilty of letting my assumptions get the better of me, my chest deflated, and my heart fluttered. "Oh."

"My name is Eric, by the way." He flashed his temporary ID badge before pulling it off his neck and slipping it into the drop box by the office door.

The flutter in my chest turned into a staccato beat that threatened to shake through my ribs, but my mouth refused to open. This quaint anonymity concept I'd been holding onto was fading faster than I could process.

He moved toward me, nudging me across the hall until it was my back pressed against the wall. "I could just call you Miss Kline."

There were other downsides to working as a teacher. The first being I hated when people called me by a name I resented. "Lena."

The smile returned to his eyes. "Nice to meet you, Lena."

I didn't intend to let him disarm me so easily this time. He may have had a good excuse for coming here, but there were some other details that piqued my curiosity. "If you came here for your nephew, where is he?"

"He's not feeling well. I came to talk to his teacher, and we're putting together a plan to get him caught up."

"That's - " Then my thoughts came to a screeching halt, sensing a major crack in the innocent illusion. "Wait a minute, why were you in a hotel room?"

"I just moved back to town, and my house wasn't ready." He took my hand and pulled me a step closer. "Can I walk you out, or would you like to hang out in the hallway all evening?"

Despite my mental objections, my body was eager to comply. It wasn't like he was inviting me on another cab ride. My cheeks heated again as soon as the thought floated through my head. A little cool air would do me good, and even the subtle change in scenery would give me a second to compose myself.

Eric pushed the door open, letting me exit first, then joined me at the top of the stone stairway. The day had been unseasonably hot, but now, a chilly wind carried a blanket of grey clouds overhead. Just beyond where we stood, the parking lot had nearly cleared out, save a handful of cars.

Eric stopped next to me. "I can't say I picture you in any of these cars."

"I'm waiting on my ride." I kept to the opposite side of the stairway, holding my bag close against my side and keeping my shoulder to him. If I didn't look at him, I figured that cut off at least one means of him getting under my skin again.

"I can give you one."

Wrong again. I smacked his arm. Then I drew back, covering my mouth.

"Ow," he grunted, rubbing his arm - either humoring me or fishing for sympathy, because I sure as hell hadn't hurt him. "I was being serious. My Land Rover is over there."

"I didn't hit you that hard." I gave him a flat look. "But maybe I should have. Does no one notice the huge sign that says staff and faculty only?"

I wanted a reason to be angry with him, even if I had quite a reach to find it.

"It's not like I got here when staff and faculty were looking for a place to park," he said, shaking his head. "And I had other things on my mind. What's with the attitude today?"

As his gaze moved over me, I pulled myself in again, tucking my arms around my middle and focusing on the distant parking lot. I couldn't admit that he was the cause of my attitude - my fantasy night with an anonymous man who went by Rusty crushed by the reality that he had a name and a life in my hometown. I rolled my shoulders and my back popped, letting my muscles relax. "It's just annoying."

"I'll remember that." Eric leaned back against the concrete barrier and crossed his ankles, laying the folder next to him. He obviously had no intention of leaving and letting me wait in peace.

So, I went back to poking holes in his narrative - or at least attempting to. "Why didn't you drive to the bar Friday night?"

"Because my car was full of junk and I didn't feel like messing with it. Besides, I intended to get shit-face and figured Cade would be the one dragging me back to my hotel room after he closed up." He cocked his head, but aside from that movement, his body remained languid.

My next words caught in my throat. Everything he did rattled me, from the way he spoke to his casual movements. "I don't know what to make of you when it seems like you're telling me what I want to hear."

"Just because I say what you want to hear doesn't mean it's not the truth." Completely ignoring my stand-offish stance, Eric reached for me, pulling me closer by the strap of my bag as if we weren't standing in plain view on the front steps of a public school, and for a second, the icy façade I used for protection faded, and my body relaxed.

He tucked my hair behind my ear. "Now, that looks more like the girl I met Friday night."

Friday night wasn't supposed to be haunting me, and I shouldn't be considering doing it again, but judging by the look on Eric's face, he was enjoying every moment of this.

Whatever this was.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. My voice quivered, making me sound just as pathetic as I'd felt when I'd wished him luck and literally took off running.

His smile shifted, and his eyes narrowed. He caught me around the waist and pulled me against him. "You. There are a million things I need to be thinking about right now." His tongue traced his bottom lip. "And then I saw you. You make it impossible to think about anything else."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek and looked away. Maybe the smile I fought would have been an appropriate response to what I assumed was a compliment, but he was too close to getting into my head. Where the hell is Oliver?

His thumb traced my chin. "I'm not messing with you, sweetheart." He pried my hands loose, tugging me back out of my carefully constructed shell. "You're a sweet girl, Lena. And I'm glad you ran into me today."

Why'd he have to put it like that?

"I'm on the fence." I tried to speak with as little emotion as possible, but Eric laughed, seeing right through it.

"Keep telling yourself that, little Loner. But there's only so far you can go if you don't stop holding yourself back." He straightened, throwing me off balance.

I stepped away, grabbing the metal railing to avoid reaching for him. "Friday night, that wasn't me," I snapped. "I don't flirt with strangers in bars and make out with them in the back of a cab. I was just playing along because..."

He tilted his head, waiting for me to continue, but I regretted ever opening my mouth in the first place.

"Because?" His voice was still gentle, nudging, but more curious than pushy.

Because I couldn't resist. I had to come up with a better excuse than that. I was bored. I wanted, just a little, to torment Ollie. And that Redhead. But none of that was what came out.

"I wanted to get out of my own head," I whispered.

"And it worked?"

I closed my eyes and inhaled. Wasn't that obvious? I'd made out with him in a cab. I could still taste his lips, that bite of alcohol. I could still feel his hands on me. Smell his breath.

My chest shuddered. "I enjoyed doing things that I wouldn't normally consider but it wasn't me."

"I don't believe you." His words were quick and even, without a hint of the doubt that choked me.

I squared my shoulders and tried to think of a retort, but before I could, Eric groaned and pulled his phone from his pocket.

"I have to go," he said, looking at the screen. He tucked the folder under his arm again and typed a message as he started down the stairs. Then, he turned back to me, straight-faced and without a trace of that devilish, flirty grin.

I already missed it.