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Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

As he looked into her beautiful blue eyes, saw her adoring smile, and admired the flawless scarlet of her hair, he felt a stirring in his chest. After all of the one-night stands he had experienced, his evening with Sophia at the academy should not have affected him. He stepped aside, letting Alexis be with her as they were meant to be, and yet, at the moment, he found himself longing for her. She was sweet, loving, courageous, and pure of heart while honest about her desires. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to caress her, to wake up beside her and see her smile. But was that because of his feelings for her, or his feelings for who she reminded him of?

“Of course you do!” she hissed. “I just gave you your first blow job.”“Well, yeah, and, well, damn. But we kissed too. You liked it too, didn’t you?”