Alle Kapitel von Hot Professor Is My Step Dad : Kapitel 51 – Kapitel 60

BonnieIt had been twelve days since the accident. Twelve days since Sloane's blood stained the parking lot asphalt. Twelve days since someone aimed a car at me and hit her instead. But you would never know it from the way people talked. They whispered like it happened yesterday. Like the sirens were still wailing and the ambulance lights were still flashing.The whispers followed me everywhere.Not behind my back. Those I could handle. These were right in front of my face. Delivered with fake smiles and wide eyes and voices pitched just loud enough to be overheard."Bonnie oh my God you are so brave.""I heard you gave Sloane CPR.""Is it true she confessed before they took her away?""Did she really hire someone? Like a real hitman?"I wanted to scream. Instead I smiled and nodded. I said I cannot talk about it. I said the police asked me not to share details. I said I am fine. Really. I am fine.By lunch I was ready to climb the walls. Not literally though.My tray was untouched. T

BonnieI noticed he watched me go. He was already a finished boy. My finished boy.Or whatever that was."See?" she whispered. "You are a natural.""I am a disaster.""Same thing."Soon Lucian caught up with us anyways."We need to fix ourselves," he said. "We look like we have been rolling around in a dumpster.""Charming," Bianca said."Accurate."We ducked behind the nearest tree. A scraggly oak that had somehow survived years of football games and student loitering. Bianca pulled out her compact mirror and I pulled out my phone camera. Lucian just ran his hands through his hair and called it a day."Your shirt is untucked," I told him."So is yours."I looked down and he was right. My white button down had come untucked from my skirt. It hung loose over my hips. And I could see the edge of my sports bra. Not ideal."Turn around," I said."What?""Turn around. I need to fix myself."Lucian blushed. Like actually blushed. A pink flush crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks.

BonnieThe bathroom door locked behind me with a click that echoed off the tiles.I leaned against it and pressed my back to the wood then tried to remember how to breathe. My chest was tight. My throat was tight. Everything was tight like someone had wrapped a wire around my ribs and was pulling and pulling and pulling.The drive home had been a blur of streetlights and silence. Marcellus asked his questions. The way he said Lucian's name like it was an accusation. The way he looked at my hands. At the rust still clinging to my palms. Like he was cataloging evidence for a trial I did not know I was part of.I pushed off from the door and walked to the sink then turned on the faucet and watched the water run. Hot and steaming till It fogged up the mirror.My reflection stared back at me.My hair was a mess. Shirt untucked. Dark circles under my eyes that makeup could not hide. I looked like someone who had been running for days and had just now stopped.I scrubbed my hands. The rust c

LucianI had been staring at my phone for twenty minutes.The message was typed out and then deleted. Typed again and then deleted again. My thumbs were hovering over the keyboard like they were afraid of the letters. It was just a dinner invitation. Not a marriage proposal. Not a confession of undying love. Just my mother asking me to bring Bonnie over on Sunday.But it felt like more.Because bringing someone home to meet your mother was not nothing. It was the opposite of nothing. It was the kind of thing you did when you wanted someone to be part of your life. Really part of it. Not just the fun parts like the roller rinks and the almost kisses and the late night texts. The real parts. The messy parts. The parts where your mother asked too many questions and served too much food and looked at you across the table like she was trying to figure out if you were happy.I was happy with Bonnie.But happiness was complicated when the girl you were falling for had shadows under her eyes

BonnieMy mother's back was killing her.She had spent the entire day at work hunched over spreadsheets. By the time she walked through the front door she could barely stand up straight. I watched her shuffle to the couch and lower herself onto the cushions with a groan then as she pressed her palm against the small of her spine."I am sorry baby," she said and her eyes were already closing. "I do not think I can make dinner tonight.""It is fine Mom. I will handle it.""You do not have to.""I want to."She smiled and thanked me. Then turned on the TV and let the evening news wash over her. The anchors' voices became a low murmur in the background asI went to the kitchen.Good heavens!Marcellus was already there.He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. He watched me with those dark eyes that always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. "What are you making?" he asked."Pasta. Something easy.""Need help?""No."I moved around him and pulled a pot from the cabinet