Just This Once (The Kings)

After meeting with the Bluebirds, I was drained.

Wallowing alone in my apartment like a miserable troll held a certain appeal, but more than anything I wanted to get lost in the warm comfort of Whip’s embrace. I needed to confide in him about my call with Principal Cartwright, so after the meeting I hastily tapped out a quick text to him.

A girl could get used to a man like Whip waiting on her. Desire, hot and intense, swirled with longing inside me.

After a quick stop at my apartment to grab a change of clothes, I eagerly made my way to his house. The drive down his winding road had become a familiar comfort. As soon as my car dipped below the canopy of the trees that lined his long driveway, I was safe.noveldrama

True to his word, Whip was waiting—sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on his front porch, in bare feet and jeans. I stepped from my car, and he stood, a bright smile on his face. Tears burned the backs of my eyelids as I took him in. Whip was strong and sexy and mine.

“Hungry?” he called out. “I have dinner if you are.”

I smiled, but my stomach tightened as I climbed the porch stairs. We came together, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I melted into his embrace. My fingertips dug at his T-shirt as I gripped him tighter.

Whip looked down at me. “Hey, what is it? This isn’t still about your dad?” His fingertip brushed a lock of hair away from my eyes, and insecurities danced over his handsome features. “I plan to talk with him––I just need to find the right time. We’re going to figure this out.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “No, it’s not that. Like I said, he’s surprisingly okay with it all. He was texting random capybara memes today, acting like nothing ever happened. He’s good.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that right?”

I buried my face into his chest, hoping to steal his warmth. “I mean, sure, he wasn’t thrilled about the sneaking-around part, but it seems like he’s willing to be an adult about it.”

Whip’s hug tightened. “I’d still like to talk to him, if that’s okay with you.”

I looked up and smiled. “Of course.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “Come on. Let me feed you.”

I followed Whip into his kitchen. On top of the stove was a rectangular baking dish covered with aluminum foil. He peeled back the foil, and steam rose above the cheesy top. “Lasagna. I hope that’s okay. I’m trying something new for the station. It reheats well and feeds a crowd.”

My stomach grumbled loudly, and I pressed my hand to it and laughed. “Yeah, I think it’ll do.”

He grinned, and I wondered if this was what it could have been like—coming home after a long day and existing together in this space. Worry knotted in my stomach. I knew I had to break the news to Whip that I was essentially jobless and uncertain about what my next steps needed to be.

I’d always had a plan, and this level of instability about my future was freaking me the fuck out.

Whip moved toward the refrigerator, pulling out a small salad for two and placing it on the kitchen island. He then dug out a metal spatula from a drawer and began cutting the lasagna into large, square portions.

“Now, you have to tell me if this sucks.” He plopped a square onto a plate and slid it aside. “Being a good cook is important for a firefighter.”

I laughed. “Not the saving lives part?” I teased.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean . . . that, too, but bragging rights for the best dinner that week?” He spread his hands, palms up, and smiled. “Come on.”

I took the plates from beside him and set them next to each other on the island. Using a fork, I scooped each of us a bowl of salad and arranged those too. The words I have no job and no future here clogged in my throat. Whip was clearly relieved that the conversation with my dad went well, and I hated to ruin the moment.

After devouring his lasagna and salad, I gushed over his cooking instead. “Truly, it was delicious. Ten out of ten.”

He grinned, looking younger and more playful than I’d ever seen him. “Thank you. I like the crunchy overcooked corners, but I was worried I’d left it in the oven a little too long.”

I licked my fork with a flourish. “It was perfect. Thanks again.”

We cleaned our dishes side by side, but in near silence. With so few dishes he hand-washed our plates and bowls, and I let the lull of running water soothe the tension in my jaw.

When Whip finished wiping his hands dry, he turned to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes, but I managed a jerky nod. “I’m okay. Just tired, I think.”

Whip pulled out a beer and held another up in question. I shook my head, and he placed it back into the fridge. “How are the Bluebirds?”

I smiled weakly. “They’re amazing, as always. They asked me to officially be part of the group.”

He smiled. “All right! You’re in the cool kids club.”

I nodded. My throat was tight. “I accepted, but I think maybe I shouldn’t have.”

Whip paused with his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

Tears threatened to spill over my lashes. “I didn’t get the job, Whip. Principal Cartwright hired someone else.”

Whip’s shoulders slumped, and his head tilted to the side before he closed the gap between us. “Aww, Prim. I’m so sorry.” His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me in close, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I know you really wanted it.”

I wiped my nose before pulling away. “You don’t understand. I didn’t just want that job—I was counting on it. I’ve looked, and there’s nothing else within a reasonable commute.” I took a deep breath and dropped my hands. “I think I have to move.”

His jaw flexed and his eyes closed. He sighed. “Move where?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. Closer to the city, probably? Trust me when I say I looked and looked. Right now there aren’t any teaching jobs I can do within an hour’s drive. Small towns don’t have nearly the demand for teachers that larger suburbs do.”

His body went rigid and his shoulders set. A grumble hummed in his throat. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Exhilaration zipped through me, followed closely by aching sadness. “I don’t want to leave either.”

He exhaled deeply, as though he needed me to speak those words aloud. With a firm nod, he looked me in the eyes. “Then don’t. Get a job doing something else.” He scrubbed a hand on the back of his neck and started to pace. “I can ask around. See who’s hiring. I’ll call Huck at the bakery or see if there’s anything at the brewery. Hell, I can always ask Wyatt Sullivan if he knows of anything at the university.” Suddenly his footsteps stopped, and he looked at me. “But wait. Why didn’t you get the job? Did the principal tell you?”

The words expanded in my throat as my mouth opened, but nothing came out. I didn’t want to lie to him but also didn’t know how to tell him that, in part, he had inadvertently caused me to be overlooked for the full-time teaching position. I was also dreading telling him that I should have listened to him in the first place about calling Child Protective Services for Robbie.

“Um . . .” I sighed and resigned myself to the facts. “The principal found out about our little work-around to get Robbie those shoes. He wasn’t too happy that I went against his wishes to stay out of it.” I exhaled and let the rest tumble out of me. “Then, on top of that, I went ahead and called Child Protective Services about the bruises on Robbie’s face, and it turns out he’s a really good martial artist and I’m just a paranoid substitute teacher.” My hand fell and slapped against my thigh with a smack.

“Oh, shit.” Whip sighed. “I’m so sorry, Prim. This is all my fault. I never should have stepped in. I fucked this all up for you.” He braced his hands on the counter and then pushed off it sharply. “God, I could kill that prick Pokey Lambert. What an asshole.”

“It’s not your fault. I really should have talked with my principal before I made that call to CPS—like you had said. I made a complete mess for Robbie and his family. I feel terrible.” My hands wrung together. “It also wasn’t Mr. Lambert who complained about the shoes. I don’t know who did, but Principal Cartwright did confirm that it was someone else.” I shrugged. “Guess I made some enemies somehow.”

Fury contorted his handsome features as his head whipped up. “I doubt that.”

Whip stood in front of me, his hands rubbing down my arms. “You did a good thing—trying to protect your students. I’m glad he’s okay, but sorry that it worked out the way it did for you.”

I looked at my bare feet. “Me too.”

“Think about what I said?” The hope in his voice was a knife to my chest. “You could work somewhere else and just stay here. Do you really have to teach?”

We stayed, locked together in an awkward embrace for what felt like hours. Finally, I took a breath. “I’m a teacher, Whip. I can’t fathom not working with kids every day. Being surrounded by learning and laughter and students? I don’t know who I am without that.”

His eyes closed and he nodded in defeat. “I know.”

“I’ll find something.” God, I hoped I wasn’t lying to us both. I hated this feeling—any feeling where my ribs poked and my gut churned. Escape was the only logical answer. It had always worked before. “I think I’d like to take a hot shower. Rinse the day off and settle in. Would that be okay?”

He hesitated like maybe he wanted to say more, but instead he clamped his mouth shut and nodded. “Of course. I’ll finish up out here.”

“Thanks.” I hurried past him and went straight to the primary bedroom before I dissolved into a mess of snot and tears. I couldn’t let him see me fall apart.

I couldn’t even explain what I was feeling. The pleasure in him wanting me to stay. The hope laced in his deep voice when he offered solutions that kept me close. Craig had never done anything apart from expect me to follow him around and keep quiet about all the ways in which I didn’t quite measure up.

But wasn’t this the same thing? Leaving my passion for teaching simply to stay close to a man? The fact Whip was the best sex of my life didn’t change the fact that whatever intense emotions I was fighting were partly because of my fears. Whip was passionate, reckless. He tended to leap before he ever looked, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe I could do the same.

Instead, I lacked any safety net and had landed flat on my ass.

If I stayed only for him, all that Emily-ness my mother was so happy to see again could be lost forever. If I fully jumped in with Whip, I knew my feelings for him would only deepen. Falling in love with him felt like the most natural thing in the world. If I allowed myself to do that, my emotions would be laid bare—emotions that he could inevitably use to hurt me somehow. How long would it be before he expected me to change? Hadn’t he already started by asking if I still had to teach?