Thief of Hearts Page 24


“Let’s go then.” Stu took my hand. All three of his brothers, plus Karla and Alexis, seemed fixated by the action. I wanted to let go but Stu held on way too firmly. It was almost like he was trying to make a point. Perhaps he was aware of his sister-in-law’s meddling earlier in the day.

“You’ve got a great family,” I said on the drive home. Stu had been silent for a couple of minutes and I’d started to grow tense.

“Yeah, they are; they’re great,” he replied, but he sounded miles away. Where had he gone inside that head of his?

“Well, I’m really glad you invited me today. I had a lovely time,” I went on, running my fingers up and down the edge of my seatbelt. Several moments of quiet passed.

“You ever wonder if maybe you’re not such a good person?” Stu asked, breaking the silence.

Where on earth had that come from? I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Not really. I try to do good every day.”

He glanced at me, interested. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “I suppose I’m in the perfect environment for it. Being a teacher puts me in a position to help. I guess it’d be more difficult to be good in other professions.”

“I’m not a good person,” said Stu. “And even if I had a job like yours, I’d probably twist it, turn it into something bad, find a way to exploit people. You shouldn’t trust me.”

His tone took me by surprise and I grew concerned. “Where’s all this coming from?”

He shrugged. “What Alexis said today was true. You’re too good for me. I think it took her saying it for me to realise.”

“I’m far from perfect, Stu. All of us are. And you are a good person. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be warning me off right now. You’d be taking advantage.”

His handsome eyes slid to mine, glints of gold shining in the hazel. “That’s the thing, I want to take advantage of you, Andrea. I want to so badly, in so many ways.”

His statement struck me as odd, because yes, there were sexual undertones that set my nerve endings abuzz, but there was something else, too. Something that had my fight or flight impulse kicking in, telling me I should keep my guard up.

“Do you always get so introspective after a few drinks?” I asked in an effort to lighten the mood.

“No, if I was drunk right now I wouldn’t be driving. I’m trying to warn you to stay away from me. I’m not good for you, Andrea. Please remember that, because the next time I try to touch you, if you let me, I won’t stop.”

His words sunk in, a shiver spreading through me, and not the pleasant kind. Mark had never made me feel this way, possibly because there had been no mystery to him. He was light, honest and kind, a completely open book, while Stu was mostly closed off. There were thoughts inside his head I wasn’t sure I’d ever decipher, and though there was a part of me that desperately wanted to figure him out, there was another that said I should heed his advice and keep my distance.

I just wondered if I was strong enough.

Nine


An entire week passed, and Stu barely spoke a word to me. He sat in class every day, completed the assignments, but never approached me in the way he had before. I wasn’t sure why, but I got the feeling he was wrestling with some kind of internal struggle.

It concerned me.

That wasn’t the only thing that was troubling me though, because now that he’d submitted some written work, I knew for certain that he suffered from some form of dyslexia. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read or write, but unlike when we were studying maths and he was faster than everyone else, when the class had written work to complete he was always far slower. His sentences were disjointed and awkward, his syntax off, and he repeatedly misspelled common words.

I’d tried several times to talk to him about it, but every time I did he put up a wall. He purposely made himself unapproachable, silent and unsmiling, and I was at a loss as to how to deal with him.

I spoke with my head of the department about possibly providing extra tutoring sessions, and she was all for it. I even asked for advice from Mrs Merrion, the college’s guidance counsellor, and she suggested maybe inviting not just Stu to the sessions, but one or two other students who could use help with their writing, too. This was to ensure he didn’t feel singled out. She was right, because although they didn’t struggle as much as Stu, Mary and Susan could do with some extra tutoring as well.

Today I was taking the class on a field trip to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square as part of their art history module. The admission was free and I liked to encourage my students to make the most of every educational resource available to them. I was hoping that sometime over the course of the day, I’d summon the courage to talk to Stu again. Perhaps he’d be more inclined to listen outside the classroom environment.

Everyone was on top form, happy to be spending a day out of class. We completed the short walk to the tube station, and I was aware of Stu trailing behind. Unlike the rest of the students, he didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the trip.

When we boarded a carriage, I took a seat in between Mary and Kian, while Stu stood next to the opposite window directly across from me. I wore a loose blouse and a long skirt since the weather had picked up. Stu’s gaze travelled down my body, provoking a sense of awareness. He didn’t say anything though.

“We should do this all the time,” said Kian with a grin. “I love going out and about with you lot. Feels like I’m back at school.”

Mary shot him a look. “It wasn’t too long ago that you were at school.”

“Yeah, but this is better because there aren’t any bullies or dickheads. I can just be myself.”

I smiled at him, glad that my class was a place where he felt comfortable.

“How can you enjoy this?” said Stu, addressing Kian. Hearing his voice took me off guard because he’d been so silent lately. “I feel ridiculous walking around in a group of grown adults like we’re a bunch of five-year-olds.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to be here,” said Mary, clearly annoyed. “In fact, we’d probably all be better off if you weren’t. You’ve been going around with a face like a smacked arse the past week, and I for one am sick of looking at it.”

Stu stood up taller. “Did I ask for your opinion?”

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