Page 22 of Animal's Reformation
Her neighbor snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I want Lucy to get some extra help with that, but the bitch doesn’t agree. I talked to the principal about it too.”
“What did Mr. Lorry say?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes and jerked his head back. “Said the bitch teacher makes the assessment. Fuck that.”
Olivia licked her dry lips. “Mrs. White is an excellent teacher. If she doesn’t think—”
“I fucking know what my daughter needs. I read with Lucy every night—she’s got some problems.”
“What does your wife think?”What the hell? Did I just ask that?
“I’m not married,” he said, a smirk ghosting his lips.
Olivia cringed, still kicking herself for asking the question. “Well then, her mother?”
“She’s not involved.”
Heavy footsteps thumped across the waxed floor, and Olivia looked behind her shoulder and saw Marcus Thurber—also known as the “Casanova of Slavens Elementary”—walking toward her. The seventh and eighth grade teacher wore one his disarming smiles on his face as he came over and stood beside her.
“Playing hooky?” he said, nudging her with his elbow.
A low rumble of sound—almost like a growl, came from her neighbor’s direction, and Olivia snapped her gaze to him. A small gasp broke from her throat: his face darkened into a scowl and his eyes glittered like sharpened knives. She glanced at his clenched fists and froze in place. Marcus must’ve picked up the menacing vibe emanating from Lucy’s father because he quickly stepped away from her as a nervous laugh escaped her lips.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, only looking at Olivia. “I’ll catch you later.” He sauntered away and disappeared into one of the classrooms.
“Who the fuck is he?”
Startled by the harshness of his voice, she jumped and almost dropped the books on the floor all over again.
“He’s the English teacher for the upper classes,” she said, her voice sounding like sandpaper.
“I don’t like him.”
A simple statement that held so much threat. A chill snaked its way down her spine.
“Okay, but you don’t even know him.”
“I know histype.”
If she closed her eyes while having this conversation, Olivia would swear she was talking to one of the bikers in her dad’s MC. It was too crazy.
“Uh … I have to get to my classroom. I’m so late right now.”
There was a pause while black eyes bored into her.
“Go on. I’m not stopping you, am I?” His voice held a glint of amusement. The tone slid over her skin like a lingering caress, setting every nerve ending alive.
Olivia groaned inwardly, hating the way her body was reacting to him. She took a hesitant step backward, which made him smile and run his tongue over his bottom lip. Another silent groan.Dammit!
“Am I stopping you, Olivia?” he asked in a low voice.
“No,” she whispered, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.
“Then …?” He moved closer.
“There you are, Olivia.” Clara White’s voice broke the spellbinding hold he had on her, and she let out a relieved breath and shifted the load in her arms.
“How are you, Mr. Walsh?” Clara’s voice was stern.
