The next couple of days go by without a single bit of verbal communication between me and Edward. Angela and I decided I’d take the afternoon pick-up for a couple of days, so the only acknowledgement I get from him is a wave from the distance as the kids file into the car.
I’m beginning to think he really doesn’t remember shit from that night and was just being extra nice with me.
It’s not until Wednesday night when I look through G’s school agenda book that I notice a note in the teacher’s writing space:
Ms. Swan, I’d like to schedule a conference with you. Please let me know when you can meet. I look forward to seeing you. Regards, Mr. Cullen
Well, then. That could be interpreted a bunch of different ways.
A flurry of possibilities runs through my already discombobulated mind.
He can: A.want to talk about something Garrett did, good or bad. B. want to meet to tell me how much he fantasizes taking me into the teacher’s lounge to punish me for being a bad girl, or C. he may just want to know what I plan to bring for the first PTA bake sale.
It could be any of those things , really.
After tucking in Garrett, I finish my nighttime routine and snuggle into bed, trying to concentrate on my latest book review. But instead of ripping apart the latest adolescent fiction to shreds, I can’t seem to stop my thoughts from being hijacked by Edward. It doesn’t help that tomorrow, it’s my turn to drop the kids off in the morning, which means I’ll be face to face with the object of my every fantasy for the past week.
And he wants to see me.
To do... What the fuck do I know?
...
“Maybe he wants to ask you out.”
Angela unsurprisingly optimistic about why Edward would want to see me.
“Angela, isn’t it common practice to meet with parents one-on-one at the start of the year? You said you got a similar note yourself.”
We’re standing outside Angela’s home at eight in the friggin’ morning waiting for Lily to get her stuff and shuffle to my car.
“Yes, but he didn’t write ‘I look forward to seeing you’ in my note.” She nods as if she’s cracked a secret government code.
Angela and I have quickly picked up our friendship where we left off. She’s as positive as always. I was pretty good friends with her back in high school, even though she was two years older. Together with Rose and Alice, Angela fit right in, and she never looked down on us like other upperclassmen did. When she left for USC, I cried.
We exchanged a couple of emails soon after she left, but then time took over and we never spoke again until now. But it’s funny how some relationships just pick up no matter how much time has passed. It’s like we were never separated.
“Well fine,” Angela says with a roll of her eyes, “then what did Rose and Alice say? Clearly they must have an opinion.”
Oh, do they. I called both of them last night to tell them the latest, and neither one was shy about expressing her thoughts. Obviously, I should be shagging him.
I take out my cell and scroll to Rosalie’s text message from early this morning first, holding it up to Angela’s face.
Here’s your chance! Don’t be a chicken shit!
Angela snorts.
I show her Alice’s next.
Oooh, Bella’s gonna get laid. It’s about fucking time. Go get Mr. HottyPants!
Angela seems satisfied. “Good. See? I’m not the only one who thinks you should loosen up. Flirt a little. You never know!”
Angela still doesn’t know about that night at the bar. I don’t have time to explain, but clearly, a girls’ night in is in order. I make plans to get Angela together with the girls soon. And just like that, Lily’s running past us to join Garrett in the car.
The kids chatter endlessly about school, new friends, and now and then I hear little bits about Mr. Cullen. It doesn’t ease my nerves one bit, and before I know it, I’m pulling into a parking space and being led into the school by Lily and my son.
Deep breaths. In... and out...
There he is. All fuckable and crazy hot.
All I see are his broad shoulders and tight ass, but trust me, the view is more than enough to render me useless.
Another deep breath.
I consider chickening out, and I almost make a silent exit after kissing my son goodbye at the door. I can always send Edward a note back with possible meeting times.
Totally acceptable behavior from a responsible parent.
“Bye Mommy!” Garrett nearly screams, alerting the entire classroom to my presence. Some other parents turn around and smile while I stand looking like a deer in the headlights.
Oh, dear God. I love my son. I really do. But... seriously?
I turn to shush him with my finger to my lips, but my eyes widen when Edward turns and locks eyes with me.
My hand quickly drops and I freeze, like I’ve been caught doing something naughty.
Ooh. Maybe he’ll punish me after all.
I’m a horny mess, I know.
Edward’s eyes brighten as he gives me a lopsided grin and walks towards me. I’m balls in now. No going back.
“Ms. Swan, good morning.” His sexy voice washes over me.
“Bella, remember?” I reply.
He bows his head apologetically. “Bella. Did you get my note?”
“Yes, and I was just about to speak to you about it this morning,” I lie.
“Great,” he pauses, seemingly as nervous as I am all of a sudden.
“So? What did you want to talk about?”
“I, um... I wanted to meet with you, you know... I do that with all the parents at the beginning of the year to assess where my students are and what the parents would like to accomplish, and which committees they’d like to sign up for...”
Oh, how cute... He’s rambling. I want to lick him even more now.
“Um, sure! When did you want to talk about those things?”
He looks around before leaning in, answering softly. Having him this close brings back all kinds of horny memories.
“l can’t really meet with you now, since, you know, I have class.” His head tilts towards the waiting children behind him. “And I know Mrs. Cheney picks up the kids in the afternoons. Maybe meet Friday when you pick them up?”
He leans in even more, and I’m suddenly worried other parents might be catching on to the sexual tension surrounding us. I’ve yet to utter another word.
“There’s a lot to talk about. Don’t you think?” He whispers, green eyes penetrating mine with meaning.
My breath catches.
Did he just acknowledge what I think he did?
“Uh... yeah, okay. Friday’s good,” I answer, dumbly.
The smile that emerges on his face causes me to stare at his lips-- the same lips that were all over me a few days ago.
Is it hot in here?
He must notice my obvious ogling because the smile morphs into a smug grin.
Bastard. He knows.
“Great. I’ll see you then,” he says walking backwards before turning towards the children.
“Okay, kids! Let’s get started. Good morning!”
“GOOD MORNING, MR. CULLEN!!” They shout in unison.
Good morning, indeed.
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