Ella Frank - Veiled Innocence

“You can talk to me about him, Addison.”

I shake my head. “And which him would that be?”

“Both. But right now I mean Grayson. Talk to me, let me help you.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You need to talk about him.”

“No,” I murmur. “I need to forget. Forget that I knew him. Forget that he ever existed…” I walk to the door thinking, forget that I destroyed him.

“Addison?”

“What?”

“What happened wasn’t your fault.”

And there it is, the unimaginable—me.

What happened was my fault, but like all good fairy tales, everyone chose to believe the lie.

Tick, tick, tock.

Past…

Miss Shrieve.

Mentor? Teacher? Coach? Rival?

As I stood there watching her Tuesday morning, I tried to decide if I needed to be concerned. Did I need to worry about her interest in the man I’d had inside me yesterday afternoon? It was obvious she was interested.

I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. That first day when she’d introduced herself, she’d laughed and leaned in as if she wanted him to kiss her. Not that I blamed Miss Shrieve because I’d wanted him to kiss me too. The only difference was, I’d succeeded and he’d kissed every inch of me the day before.

I also couldn’t forget her invitation to my track meet. That didn’t bother me half as much as her hidden intentions. I didn’t mind her using me to impress him, especially when he’d left with an extra appreciation of me.

I had him, not her. Rival? I think not.

“Addison?”

Shit, Jessica had been talking to me for the last five minutes while I’d been busy observing my hurdles coach. I spun around and plastered a confident smile on my face.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“No shit. What’s wrong with you lately? Brandon says you haven’t called or text him, and let’s face it, we know you hate being at home. So what gives?”

That was true. I hated being at home, but I hadn’t been there, had I?

I’d been with Grayson on Saturday night, giving him a tour of the not-so-perfect part of me, and on Monday afternoon and into the evening, I’d shown him just how perfect we could be together.

The hours in between I’d spent counting—one, two, three—and watching the clock. Tick, tick, tock.

I looked to where the cars were parked, but he hadn’t shown yet—where was he?

“Addison?”

“I don’t know. I just haven’t felt like dealing with Brandon lately.”

“Really? You don’t want to ‘deal’ with the most popular boy in school? I’m pretty sure there are plenty who would.”

I was never one to back down from a direct confrontation, and Jessica was all but daring Addy to come out and play.

“Oh yeah, Jessica? Like who? You?”

With a dismissive shrug, she denied the accusation. “Nope. Just sayin’ is all.”

Walking up to stand beside the girl who was suddenly implying my status in this school was changing, I asked, “It’s what you’re saying that’s so interesting, isn’t it?”

Her brown eyes met mine and a mean sneer stretched her lips. “Brandon’s bored…he’s going to go elsewhere. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Let him fucking go was my immediate thought, but when Miss Shrieve waved in the direction of the parking lot and I saw Mr. McKendrick, my mind shifted.

No, I needed Brandon.

We needed Brandon—he was the perfect cover for our crimes.

* * *

Present…

“Let’s talk about the men in your life.”

I nod at Doc and ask, “Including yourself?”

“Oh, good. You’re talking to me today.”

“I spoke to you yesterday,” I point out quickly.

“Yes, but I had to coax the words out of you.”

Well it’s the only way to make you be quiet…clearly. “That was then.”

“Yes, and this is now. So while you’re feeling chatty, let’s discuss the men in your life.”

We’re back in his makeshift office. He in his chair and me in mine.

“You are the only man in my life.” I raise a brow at him. “How does that make you feel?”

Tick, tick, tock.

His eyes narrow on me. Doc has an uncanny way of saying a lot without saying anything at all. “That wasn’t my question.”

“No, it was mine.”

In his right hand he’s holding a pen, and for some reason I find myself fascinated with it today. “I’m not here to answer your questions.”

“And I’m not here to answer yours.” I pause and then cock my head to the side. “I’m here because you all think I should be. Yet, you keep asking.”

Choosing to ignore me, Doc continues. “Brandon, Daniel, your father?”

He’s left him out on purpose. If he’s waiting for a reaction, he won’t get it.

“These men—”

“Boys. They were boys. Except for my father.”

“Okay, these boys each had a big impact on your life. Wouldn’t you say?”

I notice the pen again as he begins to tap it against his tight lips. He’s thinking, trying to ask the words in his mind without alienating me.

“Yes, they did.”

“And Grayson?”

My eyes connect with Doc’s curious ones as he waits for me to finally crack…to ask for forgiveness and spill all of my secrets. All of our secrets. That won’t happen though, because I don’t feel regret.

How can one seek forgiveness when they aren’t searching for it?

“Did he have a big impact on your life?”

“He wasn’t a boy.”

“No, he wasn’t. So? Did he?”

“Have an impact on my life?” I ask. “He was my teacher. Of course.”

“He was more than that.”

“Says you.”

“Says the state.”

I run a hand through my hair, agitated. I don’t want to be thinking about what they all think, not now—not ever.

“You’d think this would be easy,” I grumble.

Doc’s pen stops tapping, and he asks, “Why isn’t it?”

I don’t answer for a minute and bite my nail instead.

Nervous habit? I can still hear Grayson’s voice in my head.

“Because nothing I say and nothing you say will change a fucking thing.”

Tick, tick, tock.

Fuck, can’t this be over already? I can tell I’ve surprised him. Not only am I talking, I’m showing emotion, but then...he hits a little too close to home.

“Addison? Where did all the men go?

Just like that, the mask slips back in place as I answer his question stoically and without subterfuge.

“Away.”

Tick, tick, tock.

* * *

Past…

Am I a good actress? When I walked through the library doors for class and saw Mr. McKendrick talking to Brandon by the checkout desk, I thought I deserved an Academy Award.

He was dressed in khaki pants and a white shirt, not unlike the one I’d been wearing yesterday—in his house, in his bed—and my body instantly recalled what it had experienced with this man.

When the door clicked shut, those golden eyes rose over Brandon’s shoulder and caught mine. Nothing was conveyed there, nothing given away.

He was a great actor.

“Hey, Addy,” Brandon greeted with a smile as he made his way to me. He kissed my temple and hugged me tightly as I continued observing Mr. McKendrick.

What is he thinking?

I didn’t have long to wonder because the rest of the class began arriving and he led us through the rows of books to the study section at the back of the library.

“Okay, guys, use your hour today to research Anne Boleyn. I expect your report by the end of the week.”

We all dumped our books on the tables as he continued, “Remember, you are in a library. So keep your voices down. I’ll be coming around to check on your work as you go, and you better have something. This isn’t an hour to play around. Got it?”

Brandon wiggled his brows suggestively. “Wanna play with me?”

I laughed as he expected, but all I was thinking was—No, I want to play with our teacher.

“Okay, so get to it,” Mr. McKendrick’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I took Brandon’s hand, letting him lead us through the library. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t really hang back to talk to Mr. McKendrick. I had no excuse that would be convincing enough.

When we got to one of the end rows, Brandon pulled me in and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Brandon, quit it. You heard him.”

He rested back against the books, and his brown eyes twinkled mischievously as he grabbed my jean-clad ass.

“He’s not going to check on us for at least twenty minutes.”

I could feel Brandon’s erection when he rolled his hips against me, so I placed my hands on his shoulders, trying to halt him.

“Come on. You know we both need to pass this class to stay on the track team. I’m already on his shit list. Mom will have a fit if I get kicked off.”

He grinned in a way that would melt the panties off any other girl. The problem was, a man had ripped my panties off and that was all I could think about.

“Well at least kiss me to keep me happy. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

I rolled my eyes and played with a button on his blue polo shirt. “You seem plenty happy. Your hard-on is digging into me.”

He chuckled and squeezed my ass. “That’s because I’m fucking horny. Come on, Addy, it’s been days.”

“Oh you poor thing. Days? You have a hand, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not half as good as your pussy.”

Deciding to throw my “boyfriend” a bone—other than his own—I ran my fingers through his hair and tightened them, pulling his head toward me. He loved it when I was aggressive—huh, just like I loved it when Grayson was.

Maybe that’s why I was drawn to him, because he didn’t let me get away with anything. He was the one calling the shots, not me.

I kissed Brandon’s mouth, and when his lips parted and his tongue came out to touch mine, I hesitated.

I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about Grayson. I was supposed to act as if it never happened. So did that mean I was still supposed to date and kiss my boyfriend?

“Quit teasing, Addy.”

Deciding that I was right and this was the best cover possible, I pushed my tongue inside Brandon’s mouth. Unlike Grayson, who was controlled, seductive, and made me throb the second he was near, Brandon was rushing me, and it became awkward.

I pulled my mouth away and noticed that he was still hard and I was...unaffected. I couldn’t let him know that though.

“We have to stop,” I whispered. “I don’t want to get carried away.” Total lie.

“But—”

“But nothing. You heard what he said, he’s going to check on us and if he sees we have no work done—”

“I know. We’re screwed.”

“Exactly.”

I pushed away from him and was about to leave when I spotted our history teacher standing at the far end of the row. His legs were slightly spread, and his arms were crossed over his chest. His mouth was pulled tight, and his eyes kept moving back and forth between Brandon and me.

“Shit,” Brandon cussed. “We are in so much trouble.”

He had no idea.

“I thought I made myself clear earlier.” Mr. McKendrick’s voice traveled the distance separating us.

I could see Brandon stand up straight out of the corner of my eye as our teacher began walking down the row.

Caught. We couldn’t go anywhere, but what were we supposed to do now? What was I supposed to say, I’m sorry?

“Sorry, sir,” Brandon mumbled behind me.

Apparently, sorry was what was called for in this situation.

Instead of following Brandon’s lead, since he was losing major points for cowering, I placed my hands on my hips and did nothing to apologize.

“We were looking for a book.”

Directing his eyes to mine, Mr. McKendrick didn’t stop walking until he was right in front of us. “Really?”

“Yep,” Brandon agreed, finally managing to contribute.

Mr. McKendrick—that was who was in front of me right now—looked past my shoulder to the boy behind me.