Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I’d hoped…just this once, I was important enough.
Levi pops his knuckles slowly in the chair beside me. The action never ceases to unnerve me. There’s just something so threatening about the way he does it. Like it’s a promise of pain. I attempt to ignore it, instead choosing to place my attention on Mr. Park.
He’s leaning against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. Since he left his jacket in the classroom, the white material of his dress shirt visibly strains to encase his biceps. It’s much easier to fixate on his physique than allow Levi to get under my skin or to worry about my mom’s neglect.
Mr. Erickson lectures Levi on the harm to not only my reputation but his too. Gag. This statement in particular has Mr. Park tensing. I peruse my stare up his chest to his jaw muscle that ticks furiously as he glowers at Mr. Erickson.
Mr. Park is pissed.
On my behalf.
That is what gets me through the next half hour. Knowing I’m not all alone through this. He’s too engrossed in ensuring Levi’s harshest punishment possible that he doesn’t notice my openly gazing at him.
I try to imagine what having Mr. Park as a boyfriend would be like. Would he be growly and impatient like he is with the other students in class or would he be sweet just for me? Until today, I might not think it was possible for him to be sweet to anyone, but then he winked at me. We shared a moment and it was charged.
I wonder if we’ll ever get an opportunity like it again.
“Dad!”
The room that had felt deliciously warm a second ago drops to a chilly temperature. I force my stare down to my lap and pick at my nails. It feels like I’m in trouble, but I didn’t do anything. And now Darren is here, dragged from whatever scummy thing he was doing before he was called to deal with us.
Mr. Erickson lays it all out, explaining to Darren the entire story. Blood rushes in my ears and I miss most of what’s being said. My only hope is that Mr. Park speaks up on my behalf if need be.
“Miss Reyes.”
Mr. Park’s deep voice hooks into me, tugging me from the darkness I’d settled into. I skate my eyes over to him and take in the way he motions for the door.
He wants me to leave.
No problem.
I shakily stand and grab my bag. Levi’s legs are stretched out, blocking the path. I make the mistake of looking at him. His blue eyes burn with hatred for me—a hatred I’ve yet to understand.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, tearing my eyes from his to look at his feet.
He doesn’t move them.
Smack!
“Ow, fuuu—dge. Dad, what the hell?” Levi’s feet jerk back and he rubs at his arm.
“Are you okay, cupcake?” Darren asks, voice dripping with faux concern.
I jerk my head up, looking at him in confusion. Is he talking to me? Cupcake? Since when?
“She’s fine,” Mr. Park assures him, an unidentifiable edge in his tone. “Miss Reyes, I need assistance making copies for an assignment tomorrow. Can you help and I’ll return you to your stepfather once they’re done here?”
Darren’s eyes are burning holes into me. I sense that he doesn’t want me to go, but it’s not exactly like I have options right now. Besides, I’d rather escape with Mr. Park than spend another second in this office, suffocating in his stifling presence.
“Yes, sir,” I say, avoiding Darren’s attention. “Happy to help.”
I rush past Mr. Park, unsure where to go, just knowing I need to escape. Mr. Park catches up to me and gently grips my arm, guiding me out of the front office and into the hallway. He doesn’t let go but instead tightens his hold. The action doesn’t hurt. It feels possessive. As though he’s laying claim to me. This sends a wild thrill down my spine.
“In here,” Mr. Park murmurs, pushing through a door marked Staff Only. “Copy room.”
The room is nothing more than a closet. A giant copy machine sits along the wall and the other two walls are floor-to-ceiling shelves covered with reams of paper and other supplies. There’s space for both of us, but adding a third person would be a tight squeeze.
He pushes the door closed behind me, leaving his palm on the door, caging me in. My heart rate kicks up at his proximity.
“Do you really need help?” I ask, my voice breathless and faraway.
Amusement briefly dances across his features, lighting up his eyes and making the corners of his mouth twitch like he might smile. “I’m quite capable of making copies myself. You, on the other hand, needed a breather.”
I note that he doesn’t drop his hand. If anything, it feels as though he’s leaning closer into me. He’s so near I can smell his cologne—a hint of spice and maybe apples. Whatever it is, it reminds me a little of Christmas. That makes my heart swell.