Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I peel off my clothes and slide a T-shirt over my head before sinking onto the bed and pulling the covers over me. My fingers reach for the book on my nightstand, flipping it open without absorbing the words. It’s a distraction—just something to occupy my hands, to keep my mind from spiraling.
But it’s no use. My thoughts circle right back to today. To Jackson. Every touch, every look—it all lingers, igniting something I don’t want to name. I haven’t fully processed what happened, but I also can’t stop thinking about it.
It feels dangerously familiar. Like Mr. Bishop all over again. An older man I should stay away from. Off-limits, yet magnetic. The kind of man who becomes a challenge the second he shows even a flicker of interest. And now, the past and present are beginning to blur in ways that make my skin prickle.
It had all started innocently enough then, too.
Mr. Bishop would call on me in class more than the others, even when I wasn’t raising my hand. At first, I thought he was doing it to see if I was paying attention. However, it continued to happen, and I began to notice the way his gaze would linger a second too long.
Then came the requests, his voice lowering like we were sharing something just between us.
“Georgia, can you stay after class for a moment?”
“Would you mind helping me organize these papers?”
“I need an extra hand setting up for the next lesson.”
Nothing blatantly inappropriate. Just enough to make me wonder if I was imagining it.
Maybe if I had let it go, chalked it up to overthinking—if it hadn’t been for the way his fingers had brushed mine when I handed him something or the slow drag of his eyes when I leaned over his desk.
It wasn’t obvious. But it was enough. Enough to make my heart race. Enough to make me crave the attention. Enough to make me want to push, test, and see just how far those innocent moments could go before they turned into something else.
And they did.
Then, one reckless night in the empty school parking lot changed everything. We were careless. Desperate. Caught up in something we couldn’t control—or maybe didn’t want to.
And when it was over, my world flipped upside down.
Losing him devastated me. He was the only person who had ever made me feel wanted or shown me real affection. And in the end, my reckless need for danger cost him everything. His job. His reputation. His entire future was wiped out in an instant.
My mother was so ashamed she pulled me from school without a second thought, transferring me somewhere new like that would erase what happened. Bill, of course, had his own version of events where I was to blame.
I was too provocative. Too tempting. I had probably seduced him.
Everything about me was scrutinized and torn apart. The way I dressed. The way I carried myself. That my body had developed faster than it should have. It was all my fault.
And when Bill’s open palm struck my face, my mother didn’t stop him. She just stood there, watching. In her eyes, I deserved it. Deserved the shame I had brought onto our family.
I can still feel the sting, the way my cheek burned long after the slap, even as I lay curled up in bed, sobbing into my pillow. But worse than the pain was the image seared into my memory—Henry’s face as they escorted him out of the school, his expression a mix of shock and regret.
I force the thought away.
The sound of splashing interrupts my thoughts, prompting me to rise and draw back the blinds. Jackson is in the pool, each stroke as he wades through the water accentuating his sculpted muscles. God, he is beautiful. Go to bed, Georgia. Don’t do it. Don’t even think about it. “Dammit…” I curse myself as I throw caution to the wind. When do I do the right thing anyway?
Grabbing my white bikini out of my suitcase, I change and head downstairs.
The sound of the sliding glass door as I open it grabs his attention, and he spots me as I walk out. “Mind if I join you?” The lights from the pool reflect off his glistening chest. He lifts his arms, brushing his fingers through his wet hair, tempting me more.
“Sure that’s a good idea?”
He’s giving me a chance to make the right decision. Noah’s inside. “Watch out for him.”
“I think it’s a great idea. Unless you want me to—”
“Get in the fuckin’ pool, Peach.”
I can’t hold back my smile as I dive in. When I emerge, Jackson is inches from me. I run my hands through my hair, pushing my breasts out farther, practically asking for trouble.
“You know how this looks. If Noah walks out…”
“Like two people having an innocent swim?” I ask, sucking in my bottom lip.