“I could take or leave the slacks,” he breathed, all gravelly. “But those lips and your big brown eyes, now those are what get me all jacked up.”

I couldn’t look away and there was something in his voice that said he wasn’t lying. Well, wasn’t this just wonderful. The resident classroom bad boy fancied me. Some days the world really did have a sense of humour. It was like Fred suddenly having a hard-on for Velma when there were a hundred Daphnes he could be shagging.

Levelling both hands firmly on his impressively hard chest (prison workouts?), I pushed him away and stepped aside. I couldn’t look at him now, my eyes trained determinedly on the floor as I grabbed my things. My voice wouldn’t work either, so, with spectacular awkwardness I shrugged into my coat, hitched my bag up on my shoulder, and walked silently out of the classroom.

And yes, I didn’t think I’d ever been so stiff and uncomfortable in my entire life. But I mean, what do you say to something like that? I had no idea how to flirt and was entirely out of practice with men. Furthermore, I’d never known a man like Stu Cross.

And further-furthermore, he was my student. There was no chance in this life or the next that anything could happen between us.

I felt like I was walking on air as I made my way to my car. Fumbling for my keys in my handbag, I glanced around the mostly empty car park. A black Honda Civic idled by the entrance to the college, but the windows were tinted so I couldn’t see inside. A moment later the door I’d just exited opened and Stu strode out. He stood there for a second, pulling a packet of smokes from his pocket and lighting up.

Almost as though he sensed my attention, his eyes flicked up and our gazes locked. Something fluttered in my chest for a second but then he turned away, continuing down the steps and climbing inside the Honda.

Huh.

I wondered who’d been waiting to collect him, and it struck me as odd because Stu didn’t seem like the sort of man who let other people chauffer him around. Then I remembered he was fresh out of prison. Perhaps he didn’t have the money for a car yet, or maybe his licence had been revoked. His crime had been driving related, after all.

I thought on this on my way home, still trying to decide whether or not his interest in me was real or fake. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t see myself as ugly, but I definitely didn’t get pursued like this. Was he pursuing me?

Ugh. I needed to stop thinking about it before I gave myself a headache.

When I arrived back at the flat, Alfie was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Tears were running down his cheeks as he watched the news.

Alfie was incapable of turning off his feelings when it came to distressing world events. I called it Anti-Bystander Effect. We’ve all heard accounts of people standing idling by and filming disasters on their phones while others lay fatally injured. Well, Alfie was the opposite of those people. He’d jump into shark-infested waters to save a stranger, and that was no joke. This was another reason he was a shut-in. Alfie was an emotional sponge. The outside world held too much pain for my cousin, because he was just one person, far too small to absorb it all.

I glanced at the TV screen and sure enough a story was being reported about a bombing in Syria, where over twenty people had been killed.

“Alfie,” I whispered, and he blinked. He’d been so engrossed in the story that he hadn’t even heard me come in.

Letting out a small, watery breath he began wiping his eyes as he got up off the floor.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice quiet, gentle.

He nodded but didn’t speak, instead taking a chair from the kitchen and carrying it over to the cupboards. He stepped up onto the chair so he could reach the highest cabinet, where he kept some of his paint supplies. I watched as he hurriedly grabbed tubes of paint and various brushes, before getting back down off the chair. Then he disappeared inside his room and shut the door.

I’d lived with him long enough to know he’d retreated inside his artist’s mind. It was likely I wouldn’t see him for a couple of days now until he’d finished whatever piece he’d been inspired to create.

I guessed I was having dinner alone tonight. Story of my life. I considered popping over to visit Jamie, but then again, I wasn’t much in the mood to discuss the details of my personal finances and have him question whether or not I was doing okay. I knew he only asked these things because he cared about me, but sometimes I simply preferred not to think about them.

It was the only way to keep from sinking under the weight and stress of it all.

Four

The week went by and I was relieved when Stu didn’t make any more untoward advances. He did, however, make a few random comments during class that seriously confused me. Unfortunately, they were too subtle for me to properly reprimand him on.

You work a projector screen like nobody’s business, Miss Anderson.

Pardon?

Just complimenting you on your very fine projection.

And . . .

What does adumbrate mean, Miss Anderson?

It means to summarise or roughly describe.

Oh, right.

Why?

Thought it meant something else.

Cue my WTF face. I was beginning to think that despite his very mainstream manly appearance, Stu Cross was a bit of an oddball.

When the following Monday arrived, I checked my schedule and remembered I’d organised for the class to visit the nearby library to borrow some books. I liked to encourage my students to read both fiction and non-fiction, and since they were currently reading Jude the Obscure, their assignment today was to select a non-fiction book to borrow.

Everybody seemed enthusiastic when I announced our mini excursion, all except for Stu, who had no discernible reaction to the news. The library was only ten minutes away, and I walked next to Mary and Susan, as the rest of the class followed behind. Stu was directly behind me, talking with Kian, who today had taken quite a shine to the phrase ‘cocksucking dickface’. At least it kept life interesting.

I could tell Stu took a subversive pleasure in befriending someone who had free rein to shout expletives at random. Kian seemed happy to have made a friend, which made me glad, too. I just hoped Stu’s interest was genuine. So yeah, I was still trying to figure him out.

Despite their differences in age, both Mary and Susan were avid Tinder users and had decided to regale me with dating stories on our walk.