Invisible String: An Enemies to Lovers Teacher Spicy Contemporary Romance
Invisible String: Chapter 9

Say It (Spotify Studio Oyster Recording) – Girl In Red

It had taken me a moment to remember exactly where I was when I finally woke up. Eyes wide, snuggled up in unfamiliar but incredibly soft navy cotton sheets–and completely butt ass naked.

I was on my side facing the window, a mid-morning sunlight streaming through the thin curtains. I slowly twisted around and found the space beside me suspiciously (and thankfully) empty, the sheets pushed back as if they had been previously inhabited.

Slowly, the night before began to piece itself back together.

The bar.

Hanna and Rob and a lot of shots.

Ben.

Then Pizza, and…Dad?

Oh God, Dad.

Oh God, making out on the sidewalk.

Oh God–orgasms.

When exactly had I lost my mind? When had I entered the alternate dimension where sleeping with Ben Bennett was a good idea? Hanna was going to lose it when I told her. I couldn’t decide if it would be from glee or horror. And then there was the job we were both applying for; Rob had all but confirmed Ben had approached him about it as well. He already had an advantage over me, and now I’d slept with him. If that got out…

Pushing all panicked thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the most important task at hand.

Locating my clothes. Thankfully, they were all in the room, and it didn’t take long before I was scrambling around, replaceing pieces until I was fully clothed, bra excluded. That fucker had decided to hide and I had to cut my losses and get out of there before Ben returned from wherever he’d gone.

I’d get a clean exit, leave before we could talk about last night and suffer the ensuing awkwardness. It was just some big mistake. He’d probably had one too many, as had I, which had us both taking our clothes off and screwing each other’s brains out.

Luckily, my phone was still charged with less than 20% remaining. If made my way out of the bedroom, shoes in hand to keep noise to a minimum, hopefully he’d be in the shower and I’d be able to escape.

Maybe I could pick up a breakfast muffin from a nearby market while I waited for a rideshare. There was one just down the street that I’d been meaning to try all summer. I heard they baked the muffins in store and used maple smoked bacon, my personal favorite.

I crept down the hall, freedom in the form of his apartment door in sight, hand reaching out to grasp the door handle.

“And where do you think you’re going, Ms. Davis?”

My heart stopped dead in my chest and I turned to replace him across the room lazing against his kitchen counter. His shirt was missing but he wore a familiar smirk on his lips, and a pair of grey joggers were hanging low on his hips.

“Home?” I grimaced, my hand still firmly wrapped on the door handle.

“Without so much as a goodbye?” he tsked, forcing a frown onto those perfect lips, his hands going to his hips. I smothered a laugh at the sight.

“Goodbye,” I said, finally letting go of the door to wave sarcastically, but he ignored me, instead grabbing a mug from one of his cupboards.

“Do you still take milk with your coffee?”

I narrowed my eyes at him as he set the spare mug on the counter, and filled it up with delicious coffee, the smell of the freshly brewed liquid singing to me like a mermaid to a sailor.

What did he mean still? How did he know? As much as I was craving my first sip of caffeine of the day, I knew spending another minute in this apartment was a mistake. A huge mistake. Last night had been insane, but we had an agreement. One and done. No repeat performances. And this morning after charade felt too close to crossing a line.

“Ben, I should really go.”

He gasped. “You mean you’re sneaking out instead of believing we can both act like adults who just had sex?”

“Exactly,” I shot back, smirking.

He shook his head and beckoned me over. “Come eat. I made toast.”

I opened my mouth to fight back, but the low grumble of my stomach at the mention of food had me thinking otherwise. I knew fighting Ben would probably result in this going on longer. Maybe if I ate his food and drank his coffee, he’d let me leave in peace. Who was I to turn down free food?

Besides, I could always pick up the breakfast muffin after I left.

“Good to see you exhausted your culinary skills trying to impress me,” I grumbled, stepping into the kitchen and replaceing a seat, the counter acting as a breakfast bar. I looked around the kitchen, replaceing it rather… clean? The countertop was clean of clutter, nothing like my own when I’d had my own place. I’d been less of a ‘put away groceries’ person and more ‘leave it out on the countertop for maximum access to snacks’ kind of gal. In fact, his entire apartment seemed well-organized and tidy. That shouldn’t have surprised me given how neurotic he was at work.

“Hey, it’s a certain kind of person who knows the perfect setting on their toaster,” he said, a genuine smile lighting his face up. “Now, almond or peanut butter?”

“Nutella?” I answered, but he rolled his eyes at me.

“Of course, you have the preferences of a child.” He shuffled through his cupboards, moving various jars out of the way. It was then I noticed the subtle red lines running down his back. I nearly choked on my coffee. He turned, oblivious to the fact he had claw marks running down the length of his back, holding the tub of hazelnut spread proudly in his hand.

I smiled awkwardly back at him, trying to hide my reaction before replying. “Don’t hate me because I’m fun. Besides–if it’s so childish, why do you have it here?”

“I keep it for my niece,” he said with a shrug, turning to pull the toasted bread out of the hot toaster, then grabbing the tub and removing the lid, the veins in his forearms rising to prominence as he gripped it, causing an unholy reaction deep inside of me.

“I didn’t know you were an uncle,” I said, trying to ignore everything that had just happened as he passed me over the toast.

“My oldest sister travels often so her kid, Cara, comes here to stay for a few weeks during the holidays,” he explained nonchalantly, grinning and gazing down at the floor. “You know, she was one of the reasons I knew I could teach. Looking after her… teenagers are different, but she was just so much fun and gave me the confidence to take the job.”

“Like a holiday at Uncle Ben’s,” I added, taking a bite of the toast and fighting the urge to moan at the chocolate spreading on my tongue.

He barked a single laugh, still not looking at me, “That’s Fun Uncle Ben to her.”

“Oh come on now, how fun can you be? I bet you sit down and solve math problems together.”

He laughed again, the sound light and joyful enough to force me to smile slightly in reply. “Fun math problems,” he added.

I shook my head at him, muttering “nerd” under my breath.

A silence fell over us as we ate, Ben lapsing back into leaning against the counter as he sipped his coffee and I polished off the toast.

“Are you okay with last night?” he asked, breaking the silence, his hazel gaze focused on me.

“What do you mean?” There was a lot of last night I was still very much okay with, even if it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do.

He chuckled slightly, but I shot him a scowl in return.

“Well, with it being a one-time thing. Have you changed your mind now you know for sure how impressive my bedroom skills are?”

“No, Ben, you fucked me so perfectly now all I can think about is your hand in marriage and spawning your demon child.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Good,” he nodded and took a long drink of his coffee. “So, when can we get started on saving the groups?” He looked at me, eyebrow twitched upwards like it was the most innocent question in the world; leaning casually against the counter and looking rather delicious without his shirt on.

I looked down at the dregs in my mug, not really sure how to answer his question. Of course, I wanted to save my club, more than anything. But to work with Ben, to team up with him, with us both going for the same promotion… If we succeeded, he’d look better, come out on top. Meanwhile, I’d still be that pesky Art teacher trying to reach outside her lane. I’d practically be handing him the promotion.

“I’m not sure about that.” I obviously caught him off guard, and his eyes narrowed at me.

“Why not?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke, his eyes still laser focused on me. “We’re friends now, right? We can work together with clothes on and off.”

“First off, you gotta forget about last night. You can’t keep bringing it up.”

“I know, I’m sorry–you’re so easy to tease.”

I huff out a breath. “I’m saying… I’m not sure if we should work together. Just because we can get along for one night doesn’t mean we’re the best of friends. I mean, given our track record I doubt we’ll be able to work together for longer than fifteen minutes without turning to strangulation or sex.”

The minute the words left my lips, I regretted them. The bitterness of what I was saying and unwillingness to try anything hit me. Had I always spoken to him like this? Or had it only been since the summer? Judging from the way he barely flinched, the words seemingly rolling off him, maybe I’d been a villain in our relationship for longer than I’d realized. And now I saw him in this new, strange light, I finally had a chance to see things, re-examine them.

Maybe Ben Bennett wasn’t the only asshole in this relationship.

The room fell silent for a moment before he shrugged and sent a completely undeserved smile my way.

“Well, I feel pretty friendly. In fact, I feel so friendly, I’ll spare you the embarrassment of trying to convince your Uber driver you aren’t doing the walk of shame and I’ll drive you home.”

He lifted his mug to his mouth again and drained it. He gave me a moment to put myself back together and time to push all those pesky invasive thoughts away for later. He pulled on one of the kitchen counter doors to reveal a dishwasher and loaded the used dishes inside, taking my empty mug and plate from me without saying a single word.

It’s only a short silence, but it has me wriggling in my seat, so desperate for it to end as I watch him close the dishwasher and settle on the other side of the breakfast bar. His palms pressed into the counter as he stood opposite, leaning ever so slightly forward and looking straight at me.

But when he looks, he really looks; his gaze is intense, burning, analytical. Like I’m a puzzle and he’s holding all the pieces, trying to figure out how they all fit together without knowing the final picture. I try to read him right back. I can see the thin ribbons of gold in his eyes, see that morning shadow starting to creep in across his jaw, and I want to graze my hand across it, feel that roughness against the softness of my fingertips, then trail them across his sharp jaw to see if I can get a reaction from him, watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

It’s another of our power plays. Apparently last night hadn’t been enough to get it all out of my system; the current in my body turned haywire under his burning gaze. What did he expect to replace? What did he want to see?

Like waking up from a spell, I become aware how hot it suddenly became, and how hard it was not to run my fingers across his skin, the need to touch him intensifying under the realization.

“T-t-thanks,” I started, desperate to break that silent intensity but the words came out all strangled, closer to unintelligible noise than language. I had to cough awkwardly to clear a lump from my throat before I continued, the moment growing more and more uncomfortable. “Thanks for the offer… of the ride home… but are you sure it’s okay for you to drive?” I was fighting a rosiness that threatened to darken my cheeks.

He furrowed his brows in silent question, and I immediately clambered to clarify myself. “I mean, since we were drinking last night.”

Realization smoothed his features, his fluffy brows relaxing and his eyes clearing.

“I’m good, I only had a few last night,” he replied, still looking at me, still reading me. The intensity fades and a smile returned to his lips. “Besides, I wasn’t the one sinking shots with Hanna at the bar all night.”

“I do not know how to say no to that girl,” I grinned in response, thankful for the air easing around us. He stood up straight from the counter, before leaning over and scooping up keys I hadn’t realized were there until now.

“Should we go?”

A few minutes later, he led me out of the building to where his familiar black car was parked. I would’ve thought it was brand new if I hadn’t seen him drive it to school over the years–there wasn’t so much a crumb or piece of rubbish lying anywhere. But after seeing his apartment, this didn’t surprise me. It even still had that smell, the unmistakable but indescribable new car smell, but there wasn’t an air freshener to be seen.

God forbid he ever saw the inside of my car–it was a rolling storage facility. I still had some bits and pieces from when I had moved back home: an old chess board I still hadn’t found the pieces for, a bag of clothes to go to Goodwill, and the trash left over from about a dozen fast food meals I’d sneakily eaten in the car. Not to mention I couldn’t tell you the last time I cleaned it out. I grimaced at the thought of what I’d replace when I finally did. Some things were left best undisturbed.

The car jolted out of the parking space, immediately turning to do a U turn in the middle of the road. My fingertips wrapped firmly around the handle on the car door, my body rigid as we pulled out onto the street.

I was yanked from my thoughts as the car came to a violent stop at a junction, Ben slamming on the breaks. I looked for the danger he had to stop so suddenly for but found the road empty. Without warning the car accelerated, turning so quickly to the right that my butt slid slightly across the leather of the seat, and sped down the road.

“Watch your speed, the speed limit is 20,” I reminded, side eyeing his speedometer. He shrugged me off, the speed slowly creeping up past thirty-five.

“It’ll be fine,” he smiled, and I swear he pressed down on the accelerator.

“Take a left here, I just realized I didn’t give you my address.”

A strange look twisted across his features, but I didn’t have time to ask him what the problem was before my body jolted forward as he yet again did an emergency stop at a junction.

“Jesus, why do you keep doing that?” I yelled, as the seat belt pulled painfully tight across my body. There was a car in front of us now who’d stopped with plenty of time at the junction. It was Ben who was the problem.

“Doing what?”

“Braking like that! You’re going to get us into an accident!” And then it hit me. All those times he had pulled out in front of me in his car. His first day at school, even just last week. “Who taught you to drive?”

“My dad.”

“Did you ever get any lessons? Like from an instructor?”

“No, why would I need those?”

My eyes widened at the realization. “Has anybody told you that you are the most terrifying driver?”

He smirked knowingly. “It’s been mentioned here and there.”

“I cannot understand how you still have a license.”

“Some people think it’s a fluke.”

“It’s absolutely some kind of miracle.”

The rest of the car journey I spent clutching onto the door handle for dear life, my body rigid to stop myself from swinging forward every time he braked too hard and accelerated away again. He followed my instructions home, and I tried to avoid any major roads for both of our sakes. At points, I’d wanted to yell at him to pull over and let me drive, but I figured getting him to even safely stop might have been beyond his skill set.

“This must be pretty handy for work,” he commented, finally pulling up at the edge of the leafy sidewalk. I’d always loved how this street looked in fall, which was clearly in full progress judging by the number of red and orange leaves covering the road. “What is it? A ten minute drive?”

“Five if I’m lucky.”

“I live across town, so I always have morning traffic to compete with.”

“Unluckily for the traffic,” I muttered under my breath. When I glanced over at him, he grinned wide.

“I thought you lived across town on Second. When did you move?” he asked, his head tilted slightly in question.

I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering how he’d known my old address. It was, in a word, creepy. “How did you know?”

“I saw you a couple of times, my gym is across the street. I put two and two together when I saw your car outside all the time,” he answered, shrugging me off like it wasn’t a big deal. But I was already onto a follow-up question.

“Why didn’t you say hello?”

The question was simple. I could see him clearly in my mind, standing outside the old gym I’d never dared to go into, gym bag in hand, a pre-work out in the other. He was probably shorts paired with an old college sweatshirt kind of guy, and meanwhile I’d be across the street, lost in my phone or with a friend. So close, almost tied together, but separated by a road and a shared disdain for each other.

“Well, I already annoyed you enough at school. I didn’t think you’d want more irritation after hours,” he answered, giving me a look.

There was nothing in his posture, not even in how he said the words that told me there was more to it, but I had the feeling anyway, a buzz on my skin daring me to dig further. I wasn’t entirely convinced I’d enjoy the answer, so instead I let out a sigh, breaking eye contact with him and glancing out at the familiar house instead, still devoid of life in the early morning hours.

“Thanks again for driving me home.” I smiled slightly, trying to ease the tension that had appeared, but failing as he flashed a smile my way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll see you about, I guess.”

“See you Monday, Ms. Davis.” His voice was light, playful, but with an echo of something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Climbing out of the car, I fought the urge to turn around and invite him in; for coffee, food, anything really that meant this moment could keep going between us. For years, we had worked against each other, and I could barely tell you any actual information about this man other than how crazy he drove me. But in one night I’d gained more ground than in two years working together. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give that up, even if his driving was completely terrifying. Holding myself together, I marched up the front lawn, stepping onto the porch that wrapped around the house. My keys twisted in the front door, and the familiar smell wrapped around me. It wasn’t until a few moments after I’d closed the door, that I heard him drive away.

I wondered for a moment if he had also hesitated. If he’d waited.