Page 21 of Teaching Roman

Chapter Eleven

The beachbehind our villa was fairly deserted the next afternoon, which meant it was quiet enough for me to read. If I could get lost in a textbook maybe I could forget what had happened with Roman last night. A few hours of sleep had cleared my head, reminding me that starting something with him was a terrible idea. First, he was a teacher. Second, I had just broken up with Brett. Third, he was a teacher!

I told myself to chill, but while that command usually worked on Jillian and Cassie, I couldn’t swallow it myself. We were both consenting adults. We’d gone to bed together. We weren’t hurting anyone.

Yet.

This whole thing had heartbreak written all over it, which is why it would be better if una semana turned into una noche. We’d had one spectacular night together, why ruin it by dragging things out for a week?

“Why are you smiling?” Cassie asked, a note of suspicion in her voice. She’d slept until late morning, and Roman had been long gone before she got up. Keeping last night to myself was not only the smart move, but it would prevent her teasing me all day long.

I shrugged. “I do remember some high school Spanish.”

Despite our lack of beach chairs, the sand was soft, hot, and welcoming beneath me as I settled down with Cell Biology and Genetics. Cassie stripped off her sundress, revealing a tiny bandeau bikini top and something that barely qualified as bottoms.

“Aren’t you going to put sunscreen on?” I asked her.

She raised an eyebrow over the rim of her sunglasses. “No, Dr. Stone, I’m not. I wanted to get some sun, remember?”

I could hear the challenge in her words. She suspected I wanted to give her a lecture on skin cancer, but I knew she was trying to pick a fight. Cassie had some rage building up inside her, and I suspected I knew why.

“Have you talked to Trevor?” I asked, switching topics to what I knew was on her mind.

“Absolutely not. I’m not even sure I can get service down here.” She shrugged like she didn’t care and rolled onto her stomach on the beach towel.

I knew she was lying. We’d both texted Jillian earlier to touch base with her, and we were probably going to get smacked with some serious roaming charges, too. But we definitely got service down here, which meant Trevor hadn’t called or texted. Because Trevor was an ass. Reminding her of that wouldn’t put her in a better mood though.

“When did you talk to him last?”

Her voice was muffled by the sound of rolling waves. “Let’s see, when I was throwing his shoes at him.”

She’d left that part out of her story before. Of course, her initial version was a barely coherent string of curses punctuated by sobs. “You threw his shoes at him?”

“And his pants and his shirt and a lamp.”

“A lamp?” I couldn’t help but be impressed. Apparently Cassie had a little bark behind her bite.

“He’s a piece of shit,” Cassie said. “I would have kept throwing things at him but I decided I was above it. Right now, I’d rather just enjoy the fucking sun and not think about the son of a bitch.”

“Fair enough.” I flipped my textbook back open and uncapped my highlighter.

“You are in the middle of fucking paradise and you’ve got your nose stuck in a book.” She hadn’t even rolled over to confirm this, she just knew me that well.

“I can’t get behind.”

“The semester hasn’t even started yet. You just aced your finals. Take a break.”

“Think of it this way. I have to get ahead,” I explained.

“How’s the view from up there?” she asked. “You’re soooo far ahead of me! Is it sunny?”

“Looking good.” I smiled to myself as I found the spot I’d bookmarked.

“Too bad you’re missing the view from right now.”

“That’s deep,” I told her absently. “You should write a book. I bet you could give Deepak Chopra a run for his money.”

Cassie giggled as she laid her head on her arms, which were already kissed with sun. No doubt she’d look like a beach goddess by the time we headed back to Washington. I pulled my beach hat further down to keep my nose from burning. I wasn’t born to tan. I was born to freckle and roast.