Page 38 of A Royal Menace

Emmett:Why did the scarecrow win an award?

Me:I don’t know. Why?

Emmett:Because he was outstanding in his field. Badum-dum-tsh.

Me:Oh, my God. You’re so corny.

Emmett:But you laughed. Please tell me you laughed.

Me:Okay, fine. I laughed. But only because I haven’t had my second cup of coffee yet.

Emmett:It’s 9:30. I’ve been up for 3 hours and already had two cups of coffee, a run, a shower, and a bagel.

Me:It’s Saturday. Only psychopaths get up that early on the weekend.

Emmett:Speaking of breakfast, why do seagulls fly over the sea?

Me:I’m afraid to ask.

Emmett:Because if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.

Me:I really need more coffee.

Emmett:Have an awesome day, Elle.

Me:Have an awesome day, Emmett.

Things between Royal and me have been, dare I say,pleasantthis week. I still can’t believe I found the nerve to ask him over tonight to help me with my lesson plans. It’s not a date, or anything, but I was nervous as hell typing out that email. And as glad as I was he said yes, I was anxious on Tuesday morning, wondering how he would act around me at school.

I needn’t have worried, though. He acted totally normal, or at least, this new normal where he pours me coffee and tries to keep the noise in his classroom to a minimum. I can still hear them having fun in there, but it isn’t as distracting as it was before last weekend.

I groan as I look at my reflection in the full-length mirror for the umpteenth time this afternoon. I’m wearing casual joggers with a matching hoodie that is cropped at the waist, revealing only a sliver of skin when I bend or move in certain ways. I’m not sure it’s appropriate, but I’ve already changedtwice.

First, I put on an outfit usually reserved for school days, and I looked too stuffy for a casual Saturday night. Then, I put on a dress for about five seconds before I ripped it off. I looked like I was trying too hard. And now? Now I feel like I’m not trying hard enough.

God, I hate being this anxious about an outfit. This isnota date. It shouldn’t matter what I’m wearing, right?

I study my reflection, again. I look good, and this is perfect for a night in with a coworker, right? Ugh. I’m going to change again. Maybe jeans and a T-shirt would be better?

The doorbell rings, and I bite out a curse as I leave the bedroom. I’ve taken too long. This outfit will have to do. Pausing by the front door, I plaster on a wide smile before I pull it open. My smile fades as my eyes traverse the length of Royal’s body, and my mouth suddenly turns into the Sahara Desert.

He looks too good in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a maroon button-down that brings out the color of his eyes. Thesleeves are cuffed to his elbows, showing off strong forearms sprinkled with dark hair. As I stare at them, my dry mouth floods with saliva. I choke on it and start coughing, breaking whatever spell I was under.

“You okay?” Royal asks, and I realize he’s still standing in the hall, and I have no idea how long I’ve been staring at him like an obsessed zombie.

Coughing again, I step to the side and wave, inviting him to come in. He smiles warmly and steps inside, and I check out his broad shoulders and back as I close the door. God, he looks good. I should’ve left on the dress. I feel like a slob next to him.

He turns back toward me, and I force a smile as I pass by him and head toward the kitchen, asking, “Would you like a beer?”

“Sure, that sounds really good.”

I nod and motion him toward the small table where I’ve left my lesson plan book. He takes a seat, and I grab two bottles of beer from the refrigerator before popping the tops off with a bottle opener. It’s the same brand he ordered at karaoke in Santa Monica, and I had to go to three different stores to find it. His smile when he sees the label makes it all worth it.

I take the chair across from Royal, and we sip our beers as I lay out my plans for Monday. He suggests ways to tweak each subject’s lesson, making them more fun for the kids without being overly obnoxious like his class was prior to last week.

When I look at him in awe for the third time, he chuckles and shrugs. “I’m smarter than I look.”

“I never thought you weren’t smart,” I say. “I just thought you liked playing with the kids more than actuallyteachingthem.”

---