Continuing the lesson

Emily’s pencil hovered over her notebook, her lips parted slightly as she watched John adjust his tie for the third time in five minutes. The way his fingers fumbled with the knot—strong hands suddenly clumsy—sent a delicious shiver down her spine. He was *flustered*. Because of her. The realization pooled low in her stomach, warm and syrupy. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs under the table. His gaze flickered downward, then snapped back to the textbook like he’d been electrocuted. Emily bit back a smile.

"Principal Lee?" she murmured, tilting her head so her ponytail spilled over one shoulder. "I’m still confused about…" She trailed off, tapping her eraser against a random equation. It didn’t matter what she asked.

John exhaled through his nose and leaned forward. "Which part?" His finger landed on the page, deliberately far from hers. Emily shifted closer anyway, until their arms were nearly touching. She could feel the heat radiating off him, could see the way his throat worked when she wet her lips.

"The whole thing," she lied, blinking up at him through her lashes. His jaw tightened. *God*, she loved when he tried so hard not to look at her.

John cleared his throat and launched into an explanation about market inefficiencies, his voice impressively steady given how his knuckles whitened around his pen. Emily nodded along, though she wasn’t listening. Instead, she let her knee drift sideways beneath the table until it bumped against his. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. A tiny victory. Emboldened, she stretched her arms overhead with a soft sigh, arching her back just enough to make her blouse pull taut across her chest. The fabric gaped at the collar, revealing the lace edge of her bra.

Emily let her arms fall slowly, her fingertips "accidentally" brushing John's forearm as she lowered them. The contact lasted half a second too long—just enough to make his pen stutter mid-sentence. "Oh! Sorry," she murmured, not sorry at all, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. She reached for her water bottle next, taking an exaggerated sip that made her throat work visibly, droplets clinging to her lips when she pulled away. John's gaze tracked the movement before he visibly caught himself, clearing his throat and flipping a page with unnecessary ****.