Lessons from a One-Night Stand Read online

  I pretend that it doesn’t spur memories of his magnificently talented tongue…

  Whoa, I zoned there for a moment.

  Cut me some slack, it had been a while since I was properly taken care of.

  I clear my throat into the microphone, ending the whispers and murmurs from the student body now that Coach Bailey has sat down behind me. He can stare at my ass all he wants. He’ll never have it in his palms again.

  “Good morning, everyone.” I turn back to “Coach Bailey.” “Thank you for the wonderful introduction and the additions to my bio. I promise to let you do the streaking next time.” I give him my best fake smile.

  Fay the office assistant’s face is fire-engine red as she sneaks a look at Austin, obviously uncomfortable.

  Facing the students once again, I’m surprised to still have their attention. “I’m Principal Radcliffe, and what Coach Bailey didn’t tell you is that I’m from Florida, born and raised. I can’t believe you guys still have snow on the ground. It’s been years since I’ve seen it. I was a professor at Florida State before taking this job.”

  “Why come here?” a kid near the back row screams.

  Everyone laughs.

  “Guess I’ve watched too many Alaska shows on the Discovery Channel.”

  I earn my own laughs without the help of Coach Bailey.

  I have my own reasons but they’re not for the student body to know. Thankfully, this job presented itself and people aren’t exactly clamoring to work in Alaska so getting this job was easier than I would have thought.

  “I want each of you to know that I have an open-door policy. Although I’m only here for the remainder of the school year, since Principal Miller will be returning next year, I hope to get familiar with each of you. For you seniors, I’m making it my commitment to meet with each of you to talk about your future and what path you see yourself headed down. I know most of you will have probably chosen your school or maybe you’re weighing your options. But I think I can help you understand what the expectations will be once you reach post-secondary education and help you with what for some, is a difficult transition.”

  Groans and more mumbling sound from the students.

  “I mean, maybe one of you wants to take surveys for money. If that’s the case, I would be the go-to person for advice.” I turn to face the man whose good looks still make my heart beat uncontrollably. “Right, Coach Bailey?”

  The auditorium fills with laughter.

  He smiles, leaning back in his chair, one leg resting on his knee. Bastard thinks he’s the king of this school. He’s about to be struck from his pedestal.

  “Well, I’m sure you all want to get on with your day. Please remember, my door is open, always. Have a nice day.”

  Fay rushes up to the microphone, taking over to instruct the students to head to first period in a single-file line. She snaps at one kid roughhousing with his friend. I totally underestimated her, I’m happy to see.

  A few of the teachers approach, introducing themselves before heading off to their classrooms, but Coach Bailey lingers, obviously waiting for me.

  The auditorium clears out, and as the custodian—Kip, I think—stacks the chairs, Coach Baily finally approaches me.

  “Holly,” he says my name as though he knows me.

  Okay, so he kind of does. But knowing I have a racing stripe under my panties is not the same thing as knowing me.

  “Hello. Austin, right?”

  He smirks, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.”

  “Nice to see you again. Thank you for that humorous introduction. Really got the kids’ attention.”

  He stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Yeah, sorry, I just thought it could use some spicing up.”

  “So, you won’t mind if I send you my resume? You know, since I need to look for another job after Principal Miller returns? Maybe you can spice that up too.”

  He laughs, his smirk growing. “All right, I deserved that. Truce?”

  “Do most women give in so quickly, Austin?” I cross my arms, my blazer pulling on my shoulders.

  His gaze floats down my body, concentrating on my breasts for a few moments, then he meets my gaze again. “Most times. You did on Saturday.”

  I’m clenching my jaw so hard my teeth might turn to dust, but I ignore his reference to Saturday night. “That’s a pity then, because all is not forgiven here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to head to my office and get some work done.” I spin on my heel and head off the stage.

  “Holly! Hold up.” He jogs to catch up to me and lightly grasps my elbow.

  “Yes?” I flick my gaze to where he holds my arm, and he drops his hand.

  “I just… I don’t want to start out on the wrong foot. I do apologize for ambushing your bio. I really am sorry.”

  Now he knows he can’t railroad me. It was a hard lesson for me to learn in life, not to please people by constantly accepting apologies that hold no weight.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll see you around the halls.”

  I walk down the row of chairs until I’m safely in the hallway, at which point I suck in a breath.

  Am I really going to have to work with him day after day until the end of the school year?

  I bet you’re happy you’re not me right now. I would be.

  * * *

  I’m not in my office for five minutes before my cell phone rings on my desk. My mom’s name flashes on the screen.

  Damn it. I need this right now like I need a yeast infection.

  “Hey, Mom,” I answer, sitting down in my desk chair. Ouch. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I inhale quickly from the stabbing pain centered on my tailbone. I guess Alaskan high schools don’t have the budgets for comfortable office chairs that colleges do.

  “Good afternoon, or I guess morning for you.” She laughs. “I was checking in to see how you’re settling in.”

  “Well, remember I started my new job today?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You should’ve called this morning to remind me.”

  You know that phrase the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? Yeah, that doesn’t apply to my mother and me. She’s laid-back and believes everything takes care of itself. And I… do not.

  “I had a lot to do,” I say.

  “You always do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I tap my pen on my desk in agitation.

  I swear that a mother’s ability to say only three words and still get under her daughter’s skin is a special talent bestowed by the heavens.

  “Nothing, sweetie. How’s the weather in Oregon? Cold?”

  Now you know—I lied to my mother.

  I know, I know, but I do have my reasons.

  I cross my fingers. “Yeah. Good thing we went shopping for that winter coat you told me to buy.”

  “Told you. You should listen to me more often. I did raise you.”

  I ignore her taunt. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. I’m heading into the restaurant for the lunch service. I miss you.”

  The hardest part of coming here was leaving my mom. That, and lying about it. But she doesn’t always understand why I have to do the things I do, and I don’t want to hurt her.

  “I miss you too. How about we Skype during The Bachelor tomorrow night?” I ask, dropping my pen on my desk.

  “Perfect. You make a pizza and I’ll make one. It’ll be just like we’re together.”

  A knock sounds on my office door and I glance over to see Fay standing there.

  “It’s a date then. Have a great day, Mom.”

  “You too, sweetie, love you.”

  “Love you.”

  I hang up, guilt eating away at my stomach. What she doesn’t know is best in this case. In a few months, I’ll be back in Florida and she’ll never be the wiser.

  I wave Fay in.

  “I’m sorry, Principal Radcliffe, but—”

  “Please call me Holly.”
>
  “Principal Miller said that shows a lack of respect for authority.”

  God bless this sweet woman’s heart. “I insist. Call me Holly.”

  “Okay… I hate to interrupt, but Coach Bailey has asked to be penciled into your schedule. You have an opening during fourth period, and he has a break as well. I wanted to make sure that was okay.”

  I never want her to feel afraid of me, so I smile sweetly. “Of course, please pencil him in.”

  I say that while thinking that he needs to stay the hell away from me with his sexy smile and tall, strong build. I could grab Fay by the lapels of her silk jacket donned with shoulder pads and scream in her face, “Do you have any idea how magical his fingers are? I’ll cave, Fay. How much is one woman supposed to resist?” But I’m a professional, so I’m not going to do that.

  “Great. I’ll stick him in then.”

  Visions of when Austin stuck it in me come to mind, and I feel my face heat.

  She smiles and shuts the door when she leaves my office. If I wasn’t in a fish bowl in the middle of the front office, I’d let my forehead fall onto my desk.

  So far today, I’ve been humiliated in front of my new school, stood face-to-face with a guy I let finger-fuck me on Saturday night—in his Jeep, no less—and lied to my mother… again.

  This move is working out exceptionally well. What more could a girl ask for?

  Three

  Austin

  “Coach!”

  Elijah joins me as I walk to the front office to make sure everything really is water under the bridge with Holly. I want a job coaching at the college level next year, and I know any potential employer will be calling her for a reference. As of right now, I think she’s cast me as the school clown who takes nothing seriously. She has good reason to feel that way, what with the student population probably taking bets on whether she’ll streak during the next football game.

  “Not now, Elijah, we can talk at practice.”

  “JP asked Becca out!”

  A few heads turn our way.

  “So beat the shit out of him.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

  Elijah stops for a second but quickly catches up to me. “Seriously?”

  “No. Don’t do that.”

  Although I would’ve. It’s clear JP set up Elijah. What a dickwad of a friend. But I’m their mentor and already in deep shit with the principal. This morning, she was nothing like the smiling, satisfied woman in the back of my Jeep on Saturday night.

  “I’m so mad at him. I want to punch him in that big bird nose of his.”

  I tug on Elijah’s shirt until we’re out of the clogged artery of the main hallway. “Beat him at his own game. You know Becca. You know what she likes and what she doesn’t. Not to mention you have one advantage that JP doesn’t—Becca loves you.” I point at his chest.

  Becca walks by a few seconds later, staring at Elijah until he looks at her. Then she scowls, acting as if she hates him.

  “Go.” I nudge him, and he bumps into Becca, her book almost spilling to the floor, but Elijah catches it and mumbles something.

  Becca takes the book out of his hands, murmurs something to herself, and turns the other way, whipping him in the head with her long ponytail.

  So maybe she needs some time.

  I feel super shitty for leaving Elijah in the hall, looking like a lost puppy, but I have more pressing matters to deal with and that’s making sure that Principal Radcliffe and I really are on good terms.

  The hallway is clearing out as I walk into the school office. Fay’s smiling face is a nice surprise. She’s a happy woman generally speaking, but when Principal Miller was here, she often looked on the verge of tears. Principal Miller just wasn’t a people person. God help her child. Oh, stop judging me, you don’t even know her.

  “Hey, Fay,” I say as I approach the desk.

  “Hi, Austin. Not yet, honey. She’s on the phone.”

  I lean against the counter and snatch a butterscotch candy from the bowl. Fay always has the best treats.

  “What’s new?” I ask, picking up a pen that’s sitting there and tapping it end to end on the counter.

  “Gary is working on the float for the Bailey Timber Founder’s Day Parade.” Her smile reaches from ear to ear, and I know she’s remembering some of the Founder’s Day moments she shared with my parents.

  “That’s great. Savannah is coming by tonight to talk logistics. Anything you think we can improve on from last year?” I suck on my candy.

  “Knowing Savannah, it’s all in place. I think it’s great that after what happened with your parents, you guys managed to keep it all intact.” Tears well in her eyes. Every year we have this same conversation.

  “Yeah.”

  “You and Savannah have sacrificed so much.” Her hand covers mine. “Your parents would be proud.” She squeezes my hand.

  I place my other hand on top of hers. “That means a lot. Thanks, Fay.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time your mother and I went on a double date?”

  I could finish the story for her, but she likes to tell it, so I settle in for another rendition of Fay and Beth’s wild teenage double date. It’s when my mom met my dad.

  “Coach Bailey.” Holly stands in her open office door. Her jacket is off, leaving her in a sleeveless, cream-colored satin blouse that shows off her muscular arms. I knew she was strong, the way she suspended herself over me, using my roll bar like a pull-up bar while she was riding me.

  What? I’m a guy. If I notice something physical about her, it’s going to lead to thoughts of sex and since I know what that’s like with her—phenomenal, if I were to pick one word—of course it’s going to lead to thoughts of actual sex with her. It doesn’t make me a pig.

  “Another time, Fay.” I tap the pen on the counter and leave it there.

  She smiles at me like she did when I was fifteen. “Definitely.”

  I walk into Holly’s office, shutting the door because no one needs to overhear the discussion we’re about to have.

  “Have a seat,” she says, sitting down behind her desk, looking all prim and proper with her back straight.

  Everything on her desk is neat as a pin. I get the feeling she probably has a vision in her mind of little cut-out lines where each item should be placed.

  “Thanks.” I sit down on the other side of her desk, feeling as though I showed up to a wedding in a sweat suit. Her pantsuit costs a lot of money, I’d bet, and here I am slumming it in jeans and a button-down. But more than that, it’s the energy she’s giving off. It’s cool and professional and not at all like the woman I met at Lucky’s on Saturday night.

  The sun pops out from behind a cloud and shines through her window, across her blouse, and I get a perfect vision of her bra. Lacy, like the one I took off her that night. One of those ones without a clasp. Not as easily accessible, but sexy as hell.

  Shit. Must refrain from thinking of Holly naked. I change positions—jeans aren’t exactly the easiest to hide a hard-on in.

  “What can I do for you, Austin?” She clasps her hands on her desk and leans forward.

  I’m pretty sure she has no idea that her arms push her tits together when she does that, but I’m a good boy and resist the urge to keep glancing at her cleavage.

  I’m in over my head right now.

  I clear my throat. “I wanted to apologize.”

  “You already did that.” Her face is as void of emotion as an A-list actress who’s had too much Botox.

  “Yeah, I know, but I can’t help but think you thought I was full of shit. I think you’ve pegged me wrong.”

  “Why do you say that?” She tilts her head ever so slightly.

  “I think that you have the impression that I don’t take this job seriously, and that can’t be further from the truth. I’ve been here for almost nine years. I’ve developed the baseball team to the point where some of these boys might get drafted to some big-name schools. I care about the stu
dents—”

  She holds her hand up for me to stop. That same hand that was holding my dick on Saturday night. Let’s just say I don’t forget these details. “I know about Elijah Crupe and his potential offers. Whatever your worries are about me, don’t worry. I’m a mature adult. You misstepped.”

  “I had a little fun. If I’d known you were the same woman from Saturday night, I’d have included all the other great qualities I know you possess.”

  Her eyes flare open and her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look impressed.

  You’re here to apologize, not flirt with her, idiot.

  “Thank you, but I think it’s safe to say we’re done with the extracurricular activities now.” She leans back in her chair.

  “You should’ve stuck with Scrabble, and what was your other hobby? Refinishing furniture? Is that like antiquing?”

  She stares at me blankly.

  I’ve offended her. I’m hanging around Phoenix and Sedona too much.

  “Let me take a stab at your hobbies, if I may?” She doesn’t wait for my permission. “You’re probably an outdoorsy kind of guy. One who’s out all day doing dangerous or risky things with the excuse of having ‘guy time.’ You come home late at night, fall onto the couch, and watch some sporting event?”

  I smirk. She’s good.

  “Figures. Guys like you are all the same. So, mock my hobbies if you will, but they are mine, and I’m not going to let you make me feel as if I’m some boring person.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “If you’re done insulting me for the day, please let me get back to work.”

  “Holly.” I stand, my fingers on the edge of her desk. God, I’m such a fuck-up right now. I’m never not in control or one step ahead of someone when we’re verbally sparring.

  She looks up at me, and if her gorgeous green eyes could give me the middle finger, they would.

  Time to cut to the chase.

  “Listen, I’m applying for some college-level coaching jobs and they’re gonna call here for references and I—”

  “There you go thinking I’m going to sabotage your career because you embarrassed me after we slept together. I’ve looked into your classes and your coaching. All of your players are holding their GPAs where they need to, and your seniors are progressing nicely toward graduation. I’ll only speak on those items should someone call, but please don’t put me down as a character reference.” She raises her eyebrows, dismissing me.