She's With Stupid Page 21

  They all laughed at her stern voice. “Oh Emilie, how could you?” Lana said in a scandalized whisper. “You’ve become that which we have always despised—you are an authority figure.”

  Kate threw up her hands as if to ward of evil. “Get thee away, teacher!”

  Emilie pretended to glare at their misbehavior and the girls laughed even harder, while Ethan grinned at their antics with tolerant amusement.

  Kate gasped a moment later when she heard the opening notes of “Blue Suede Shoes” over the loud speaker. “I love this song!” She grabbed Lana’s hand decisively. “You can go work if you want to, Em. Lana and I are going to shake and shimmy our blues away.”

  Kate pulled Lana out on the floor and promptly began moving in a manner that called to mind convulsions. After a brief, horrified look around, presumably to make sure no one she knew had miraculously appeared at a middle school dance to witness her fall from cool, Lana shrugged good-naturedly and joined Kate in her ‘dance.’

  Emilie rolled her eyes at her friends’ silliness and risked a quick look at Ethan, who was watching the two of them with concern.

  “I hope they don’t hurt themselves.”

  She smiled. “I think they’ll be okay. I am, however, dreading the dangers they’ll present to the other guests at Kate’s wedding reception. We may need to have an ambulance on stand-by.”

  Ethan continued to stare intently down at her as he lightly traced the back of his hand along her cheek, and Emilie felt a tell-tale shiver run down her spine. “I, um, really do have to make a few laps around the gym to check for any monkey business, so—”

  “Come on, Emmy. One dance won’t destroy the balance of good and evil, will it?” Ethan flashed her one of his little-boy-lost pouts, and she felt a reluctant grin tug at her lips at the sight of that twinkle in his eyes. The music shifted from the rock n’ roll beat to a poppy doo-wop song, and his face lit up with excitement. “You gotta dance now, darlin’. They’re playing our song!”

  Ethan grabbed her hand and swept her onto the dance floor with a dramatic twirl as “Why Do Fools Fall in Love” began to play. Emilie sighed in exasperation as he placed her arms around his neck and his hands on her hips with another exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows.

  “I wasn’t aware that we had a song,” she said dryly.

  “We do now.” He grinned and suggestively pressed his hips into hers. Emilie groaned at his persistence, but she mirrored her movements with his, swaying her hips as the song picked up momentum. Trying to pretend she didn’t enjoy being with him was exhausting. Perhaps it was time to give it a rest for a little while.

  Taking notice of the sudden lack of tension in her shoulders, Ethan let out a satisfied laugh and they began to move in sync to the music with surprising ease — as if they had been dancing together for years. Once she let herself relax, Emilie was surprised to admit that she was having fun.

  Ethan began to spin her in a series of twirls as the song reached a crescendo, and he chuckled with delight at her glowing face. “We’ve still got it, baby!”

  He followed this statement with a deep dip over his arm before pulling her tightly against him as the song ended. They were a breath away from kissing when a smattering of applause broke out around them.

  They returned to reality to find a group of her students watching them with avid interest. One of her eighth grade boys whistled, another shouted “Work it, Miss Thatcher!” and Emilie could have sworn she heard one of the girls mutter “That was hot.” She pulled away from Ethan to give the kids a theatrical curtsy, which earned them another round of applause.

  As the music switched to a ballad, Ethan stalled her exit from the dance floor, lightly tugging on her arm until their bodies were touching from chest to knee. “They’re playing our song again,” he said with a teasing smile.

  Sighing again, more from habit than annoyance, she allowed him to hold her close as they began to sway to an old Motown song. “You picked all the music, too, didn’t you?” Ethan asked with a slight frown. When she nodded, it was his turn to sigh before he again pulled into the tight circle of his arms.

  Emilie closed her eyes, enjoying his familiar scent and the feel of his arms holding her so securely. He bent his head, allowing his lips to graze her ear as he began to murmur along with the words to the song, “Oh, you treat me badly, I love you madly…you’ve really got a hold on me.”

  Unbidden tears burned behind her eyes, and when she opened them to find Ethan staring down at her with that maddeningly intense stare he used to give her when they were young and he thought no one else was watching, Emilie realized with a start that she hadn’t felt this contented since the last time he’d held her like this.

  Ethan gave her a questioning look. “This is nice,” she admitted with a shrug.

  He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yeah, it is.”

  The sense of rightness intensified with each passing moment, and each small puff of his breath against her skin while the strains of the song echoed in the gym only added to that feeling. It was comforting and overwhelming and completely terrifying.

  Emilie abruptly jerked away before the song ended and feebly tried to ignore his confused expression. “I’ve got to make the rounds now.” She bit her lip as she gazed up at his handsome, oh-so-familiar face and felt her heart do a funny flip. She wondered with growing alarm when that had started happening again.

  Ethan smiled and lightly caressed her cheek. “I’ll be here when you get back. Unless you want me to come with?”

  “I’d better go on my own,” she said. “It’s easier for me to seem menacing when I’m not being directly compared to a giant Marine.”

  She suddenly felt painfully shy, and Ethan must have noticed because he simply nodded. “Okay, I get that. But don’t be too long, promise?”

  Emilie felt her breath catch in her throat before she nodded and forced herself to walk away from him. She continued to feel his gaze on her as she did her duty and cased the perimeter of the gym for any wayward students bent on mischief.

  She broke up one tussle between an eighth grader and a lowly seventh grader who had crashed the dance, and she interrupted two make-out sessions that were taking place in the hallway leading out of the gym.

  And all the while, she felt a warm feeling bloom in her stomach at the thought that, by some strange twist of fate, Ethan Drake was waiting for her.

  After two circles around the gym, interrupted by one brief twirling session with Lana and Kate to the tune of a song about balls of fire, Emilie decided to make one last inspection of the bleachers, which she had been avoiding due to the gloomy shadows underneath that gave her the willies. Frowning at her unavoidable task, Emilie left her friends, who had finally returned to the sidelines to tease Ethan about his moves on the floor earlier. As she turned towards the bleachers she heard them rehashing a long ago dance contest they had once conducted at the lake house.

  She felt a smile tug at her lips as she moved towards the bleachers. She had a very clear memory of that dance contest because she and Ethan had won the glittery, homemade baton trophy thanks to some risqué moves and a daring lift inspired by repeated VHS viewings of Dirty Dancing. Given the gleam in his eyes when she walked away, Emilie was willing to bet that Ethan was also remembering how insistent she had been that they practice the lift in the water, exactly the way they did in the movie. He had teased her about it mercilessly when they were alone, but he had done what she wanted.

  He usually had.

  Inhaling sharply at the pang of longing that struck her every time she allowed herself to recall just how close they had once been, Emilie closed her eyes and prayed for strength. She was getting that scary falling-into-the-abyss feeling again, and she had no idea what to do about it.

  Reaching the edge of the bleachers, she hesitantly leaned into the dim shadows underneath to listen for any sounds of mischief. Failing to detect any sign of trouble, she determined that it would be all right for her to go find the others
and make a fool of herself for a few more minutes.

  She had a goofy smile on her face when, without warning, Emilie found herself being grabbed from behind and forcefully shoved further back into the shadowy alcove beneath the bleachers. She let out a startled scream before it was cut off by a hard mouth being pressed into hers. When her attacker pulled slightly away and she saw who it was, Emilie opened her mouth to scream again, but the sound was quickly muffled by a hand that smelled so strongly of formaldehyde it caused her to gag.

  When Leo refused to budge, she resorted to glaring daggers at him and biting down hard on the fleshy part of his palm. “Ow,” he growled as he pressed her more firmly into the wall and switched hands.

  Trying desperately not to panic, Emilie continued to stare defiantly at her jackass captor. After a brief, silent battle of wills, Leo cautiously removed his hand. She immediately let out another outraged shriek and he covered her mouth again with a muttered oath. He used his other hand to clasp her wrists together above her head and roughly pushed the weight of his lower body against her.

  Emilie jerked her body to test his hold and hissed in consternation at how strong he suddenly seemed. She unsuccessfully tried to dislodge him again, but it was no use. She wasn’t going anywhere until he let her go, and her squirming had merely drawn her attention to certain parts of Leo’s anatomy that she would rather forget existed.

  His face contorted in a sneer as he pressed his hips into her stomach and leered. Emilie shuddered with disgust and abruptly stopped wiggling. Cautiously, Leo removed his hand again.

  She blew out a breath in frustration. “Just what do you think you are doing?” she demanded.

  When he leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck, she could smell whiskey and stale beer on his breath. That, at least, explained his recent personality transplant. Getting sloppy drunk at the slightest provocation tended to affect a person’s reasoning skills.

  “I’m mad at you,” Leo informed her.

  “You need to let me go. Right now.”

  His only response was to giggle in her ear as he tried to vacuum-suck her earlobe. Eww. This was reaching all new heights of creepiness. Though she had suspected he was becoming a loose cannon, she had never dreamed that he would assault her, especially not in so public a venue.

  She made another attempt to shake him off, but his grip on her wrists tightened painfully and caused her to still. The darkness surrounding them felt increasingly suffocating, and she barely prevented herself from giving in to her escalating urge to cry in frustration.

  Leo gave her what she was sure he thought was a pitiful look. “I love you!” When her only response was a contemptuous glare, he gave her wrists a squeeze. “I can make you admit that you love me, too.”

  Emilie gave him a look of deep loathing. “You’re delusional. I told you to stop and I meant it!” She renewed her struggles against his hold while he tried in vain to block her attempts to bite him again.

  His breath shortened as his grip tightened. “Listen, you little b—”

  His hold on her wrists was abruptly broken when a very large, very pissed-off marine yanked him away and tossed him to the ground. Leo whimpered in shock as Ethan proceeded to kick him twice in the gut before fisting his hands in the front of his shirt and lifting him until his feet dangled helplessly above the ground.

  Leo’s face paled considerably when he saw who it was. “Not you again.”

  Ethan shook him none-too-gently and growled menacingly. “I’d like to know just what the hell you thought you were doing.”

  “I-I-I—she’s my girlfriend!” Leo cried desperately.

  Ethan gave Leo’s flailing body another wrenching jerk. “I hate liars almost as much as I hate useless little bastards who bully women.”

  Tears and snot ran freely down Leo’s face. He looked helplessly at Emilie, who was still huddled against the wall watching the two men fight with an odd sense of detachment. “Tell him, Emilie!”

  She gave him a look that could have frozen wildfire before focusing on Ethan, who seemed about five seconds from pummeling Leo’s face into a pulp.

  “Let him go, Ethan,” she said softly. “He’s not worth spending the night in jail over.”

  “I have to respectfully disagree with you on that, Emmy.” Ethan gave him another vicious shake, and Leo let out a weepy squeak, his gaze going frantically back and forth between Emilie and Ethan.

  To Emilie’s mind, Leo looked pleasantly terrified by the very real prospect of being ripped apart by the man who now held him in his grip. However, though the idea certainly had merit, Emilie couldn’t let Ethan harm him.

  “Ethan, you’ve got to stop. He’s a drunken fool and you’re a Marine. No one would think it was a fair fight. So you need to let him go now. Please.”

  Her voice broke a little on the “please,” and that slight hitch in her breath was likely the only thing that made Ethan lower Leo to the ground. Once Leo’s feet touched the ground, Ethan gave a hard shove that caused him to stumble.

  Ethan’s fists remained tightly clenched as he watched Leo cower and quickly back away. “Stay the hell away from her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

  If possible, Leo’s face paled even further. With one last glance at Emilie’s impassive expression, Leo turned and fled back to the light of the gym, tripping over his feet several times as he went.

  Chapter 15

  Only when Leo turned the corner and disappeared from view did Ethan twist around to face Emilie. She was still leaning against the wall, the shadows from the bleachers above casting a faint pattern over her skin.

  He breathed deeply, hoping that it might calm him. If he hadn’t been so anxious about Emilie’s long absence from the gym… if he hadn’t thought he’d heard a muffled scream from under here… if he hadn’t convinced her to let him come with her tonight… All the possibilities and what ifs flooded his brain and boiled down to one simple fact: she could have been seriously hurt.

  His features hardened as he took two ground-eating steps to reach her. Emilie met his stare, and he was pleased to see that at least her eyes were no longer glazed with fear as they had been when he pulled that bastard off of her, and she didn’t flinch when he placed his hands on her shoulders to reassure himself that she was really fine. “Did he hurt you?” he rasped.

  She shook her head and reached up to cup his face in her soft palms. “I was only frightened.”

  Through the shadows, Ethan could make out the sincerity in her dark brown gaze, and he felt the knot in his stomach begin to ease. When she smiled slightly and tilted her head, he saw something else as well. With a thrill of anticipation he noted that, for the first time in what felt like forever, Emilie was looking at him with something akin to trust.

  Ethan crowded closer to her, letting his head fall into the curve of her neck with a heavy sigh of relief. “I was pretty damn scared, too,” he murmured into her neck while he drank in the smell of cinnamon and vanilla that mingled with the faintly tropical scent of her shampoo.

  Her arms slipped tentatively around his shoulders, and she buried her fingers in the softness of his hair. Taking that as his cue, Ethan swiftly wrapped his arms around her, molding her body to his and holding her as close as he could.

  “You were always good at saving me from sticky situations,” she murmured.

  Emilie was smiling against his neck, and he drew his head back slightly to give her a crooked grin. “Yeah, well I’d prefer to never have to pull you from that particular sticky situation again, we clear?”

  Her widened innocently. “Can I help it men find me irresistible?”

  He growled deep in his throat and gave her a light squeeze. “Don’t remind me. It already keeps me awake nights.”

  “Why, Ethan Drake, I do believe that is the sweetest thing you have ever said to m—Oomph.” The rest of her response was cut of by his lips descending softly but firmly over hers.

  The relief Emilie had felt when he
had pulled Leo away from her was quickly turning into the confusing happiness she always felt when she was in Ethan’s arms. The shadows that had felt oppressive a moment ago now seemed welcoming and warm — like a cocoon blocking out the rest of the world so that only the two of them remained.

  Ethan seemed to feel the same way. He softly nuzzled her ear before working his way across her face with gentle kisses on her eyelids, nose, and cheeks. When he finally reached her lips she was feeling distinctly giddy.

  His mouth hovered above hers again for a scant second, giving her time to pull away, but Emilie was no longer interested in caution. She had wanted to kiss him again since she was sixteen years old, and she would be beyond stupid to let this opportunity pass her by. With newfound resolve, she stood on her tiptoes and lightly nipped his bottom lip.

  Ethan covered her lips with a raspy growl and returned her kiss with flattering ardor. She tried to take herself out of the moment long enough to gain some perspective —she was quite certain this was something she never wanted to forget— but his mouth was swiftly destroying any control she might have had as his tongue insistently stroked hers and she was rapidly finding it difficult to breathe, but in a good way.

  Their first kiss, all those years ago, had been soft and sweet. This kiss made her feel like she was about to explode.

  It seemed to go on and on, as if Ethan was trying to learn everything about her through her lips. His hands were fisted in the back of her hair, tugging on it in a deliciously spine-tingly way, and Emilie wondered dreamily where he had learned to do that thing with his tongue. Whoever had taught it to him was a freakin’ genius.

  Her hazy thoughts were interrupted only when he pulled back to hold her face in his hands, using his thumbs to lightly stroke the pulse beating rapidly under the curve of her jaw. His gaze was full of emotion, and for a moment she struggled to identify it in the hazy light. His eyes held desire, that much was obvious, but they were tinged with an even deeper emotion Emilie wasn’t sure she wanted to analyze.