Robin Wasserman - Pride

“Nice try tonight,” he called in a low voice. “Maybe this weekend I can give you some pointers.”

Adam knew he should fight it, should make the coach put him back in the game, show Kane he was unfazed. Show Kane that he couldn’t have everything, that he didn’t always win.

But, instead, he stayed quiet, stayed seated.

The thing was, Kane did always win-and Adam was so tired of losing. Maybe it was just better not to fight.

Harper didn’t know how they’d had such good fortune, but she was only too happy to enjoy it. When Jack Powell had come storming out of the gym, his face clouded with irritation and a barely contained rage, Harper had been grateful for the quick peek, but assumed he would just walk on by. Instead, inexplicably, he’d stopped to chat with Harper and Kaia-and, just like that, their long and boring night began looking up.

Not that Harper cared about the next lesson in French class or the long-delayed plans to renovate the cafeteria, or whatever it was Kaia was so cheerfully babbling about. Harper was just content to enjoy the scenery. Then again, maybe that was Mr. Powell’s motive as well, since he seemed even more disenchanted with the topics of conversation than she was. And he kept sneaking sidelong glances at Harper as if waiting for her to say something. Do something.

Mr. Powell was the first new teacher Haven High had seen in years-and, thanks to his age and obvious sex appeal, rumors had been flying for months. Could they be true? Could the dashing young teacher have his eye on one of his students? Could it be that he was waiting, plotting, hoping to get Harper alone, for a very special student-teacher conference?

Not that she’d ever do anything about it, of course. There was Adam, for one thing-and, for another, hooking up with a teacher was definitely on the wrong side of the sexy/sleazy divide. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t preen a little under his surreptitious attention, right? Flirt a little, give him the full Harper Grace treatment? You certainly couldn’t fault his taste.

“I should be getting back,” he finally said, aiming his piercing stare at Kaia. ( Probably wishing she’d go away and leave us alone, Harper thought smugly.) “Unless there’s anything else you ladies need.”

“Oh, Mr. Powell, please stay,” Kaia simpered, “I really need to talk to you about these new textbook standards you were telling us about. It’s so fascinating.”

Pathetic, Harper thought. Could she be any more obvious, throwing herself at him like that?

“Well, maybe I didn’t mention it before,” Mr. Powell began after a pause, “but it’s very important that these textbooks follow the rules . Otherwise, the school board will just toss them out. After all, one textbook’s just as good as another. Don’t you think, Harper?”

“What?” Like she was listening. Who could pay attention when he had such adorable dimples? “Uh, sure.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Kaia countered. “I would think that if a textbook were something really new and different, it might be able to make its own rules. And you know, if one school district didn’t want it, another one would be sure to snatch it up.”

“And I suppose that in this charming little scenario, the first school board would be sorry?” Mr. Powell asked drily.

“It would feel like quite the fool,” Kaia said, imitating his British accent. “It would probably want the textbook back, but, sadly, it would be too late.”

Suddenly, Kaia peered into the darkness and waved at an approaching figure who’d just gotten out of his car. “There’s our pizza!” she chirped.

“You ordered a pizza?” Harper and Mr. Powell asked together, equally incredulous.

“You said you were hungry,” Kaia reminded her. “I’ll go reel him in,” she added, skipping off toward the pizza guy, who was wandering aimlessly in the darkness.

As Kaia’s silhouette faded briefly out of sight, Harper turned toward Mr. Powell and realized he was looking intently at her, as if trying to figure something out.

“Well, well, well,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest, but her voice steady and light. “Alone at last.”

Kaia approached Reed and greeted him with a silent wave. She took the pizza in one hand and, ignoring his confused look, slipped a possessive arm around his waist and led him back toward Harper and Powell.

The pizza had been late, but no matter-she’d been amusing herself by torturing Powell with meaningless small talk, knowing how it made his skin crawl to be seen with her.

“Hi, guys!” she said perkily as she and Reed approached. “Look who brought us the pizza.”

Reed-who, despite his greasy GUlDO’S T-shirt and baggy jeans, was looking incredibly tasty-extended a hand toward Harper. Kaia forced herself not to notice the way his unruly long hair brushed the lids of his dark, bottomless eyes. After all, this was business.

“I’m Reed,” he said slowly, as if every word had to battle its way through the haze of pot lying between his brain and his mouth. “I think we-”

“They don’t care who you are,” Kaia interrupted him. She handed the pizza off to Harper, then put her arms around Reed’s waist. He was so trim-but so firm. “But I’m glad you came,” she said, gazing up at Reed-every inch of her attuned to Powell, a few steps away.

“I, uh, didn’t know you two knew each other,” Harper stuttered.

Kaia touched her hand to Reed’s stubbly cheek and glanced over her shoulder.

“Oh, we’ve gotten to know each other really well these last few days,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Powell. “We’ve gotten very close.”

“I should go,” Reed said, disengaging himself. He pocketed the money Harper had given him for the pizza and took a step backward.

What’s wrong with him? Kaia thought angrily. Can’t he see that I’m throwing myself at him? What is this, performance anxiety? He’s only into me when we’re in some freakish, secluded spot all by ourselves?

She shivered at the memory. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t think of those nights again.

Focus, she reminded herself. And don’t let him go .

“Reed,” she called sweetly, and he turned around again to face her. “You forgot your tip.”

She stepped toward him and gave him a soft, chaste kiss on the lips.

Behind her, she heard a gasp. And knew without looking that it wasn’t Harper. Perfect.

Then Reed put his arms around her and pulled her closer, and their chaste kiss turned into something else. Long, deep, his fingers crawling down her back, their bodies fusing-and then it was over.

Reed walked away, into the shadows, and Kaia watched him go. Watched long after his figure had disappeared.

Eventually, behind her, Jack Powell cleared his throat.

Kaia had almost forgotten he was there.

“Come on, Kane, where are we going?” Beth peered out the window at the desert landscape speeding by as if the bumpy, arid land on either side would offer some kind of clue. But there was nothing out there but scraggly Joshua trees, distant hills, and the occasional billboard for an XXX strip club a mere fifty miles away.

“How many times have you asked me that?” Kane asked, glancing over at her with bemusement and then turning back to the road.

Counting this morning, when he’d begged her to ditch her applications for the day and take a road trip? Counting the hour in the grocery store buying water and picnic preparations, and then the hour and a half on the road?

“About thirty,” she guessed, blushing.

“Add another zero and you’ll be closer,” Kane said, shaking his head. “And what have I told you each and every time?”