Consumed

Chapter 7

Devin's POV~

Once the last bell rings I grab my bag from the desk and head straight to his classroom. I am beyond pissed.

I wasn't doing anything wrong, that bastard ex of mine was the one doing the wrong doing. I felt trapped in his attempt to pin me against the lockers. I know he was trying to act concerned, but I wasn't falling for it nor was I ever going to fall back into that. Mr. Big-bad-Teacher comes and tries to save the day and then tries to give me yet another detention.

I clench my fist around the strap of my bag, pushing through the crowd of students. I probably look like a mad woman, eyes red in anger, smoke pouring from my ears.

I'm dramatic, sue me.

Soon enough the halls start to empty. It’s quiet, only a few voices and locker slams being heard. I turn the corner seeing that his door is wide open and I make note that once I'm in there I'm going to rip him a new one.

I walk through the door and up to his desk, slamming my bag down onto it. "You were seriously going to give me another detention because that asshole?" I spit, glaring in his direction.

"Well hello to you too, Ms. Cavanagh." he looks up through his glasses.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi to you too… Are you going to explain that crap you pulled out there?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"What crap? You didn't think because you work for my mother and because I took you home last night I was just going to let you off easy at school?" My mouth nearly drops to my feet.

I turn around, taking my seat.

Asshole.

"I've heard worse, a lot worse actually." Of course I said that out loud. My eyes glance down to the bandage on my arm, picking at the edges of the tape holding it together.

“That wasn't from your curling iron was it?" I hear him ask. I don't look up. I don't know what to say to him, he’s right, it wasn't from my curling iron. Though I don't want him to know that.

“Yes it was," I shortly answer, still keeping my eyes at my feet.

"Your hair is straight, Devin. I may not know you too well, but I know when you women lie." That's it.

"Can you just leave it? It's none of your concern!" I hear him take in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly. He doesn't push me any further and I'm glad. If he would have I probably would have snapped and came unglued at the seams. Yes, he's my teacher. Yes, he's suppose to care about his students well being, but at this f*****g point I don't need his sympathy let alone anyone else's.

I reach into my bag, pulling out my phone along with my headphones, turning on the only music that will calm my nerves.

...

An hour has passed by and my nerves have finally calmed down. Dillan, Noah, and Brendon are all out like a light. I thank God for them being the biggest stoners in school.

The song Afire Love by Ed Sheeran is ringing through my ears. During this moment I lift my eyes to be met with his for a quick second, but he looks away. I can't help the smirk that spreads across my face when he does so.

"Did you need something, Mr. S?" He doesn't look up from his papers.

I have no clue what I'm doing, but my feet seem to answer that for me when I start making my way to Harry's desk. His emerald eyes are watching me. I see him struggling to scan my body, it's not working as well as he had planned.

"No, just really wanting to get these tests graded before I leave. Grace wants me to work tonight since it's going to be pretty busy."

"I can help," I offer taking a seat on the edge of his desk. "But can I ask you something?" he lays his pen and tests down on the desk, turning to face me.

"Yeah, sure what is it?"

"If Grace is your mother why do you call her Grace?" Why do I sound like a little kid? I'm just curious as to why he does that. I mean if it's his mom why wouldn't he call her mom and not her first name?

He doesn't answer right away, folding his hands behind his head, leaning his chair against the white broad.

"If I answer that, will you tell me how you got that?" he points down at the bandage on my arm.

Seriously?!

"I thought I said to leave it," I sigh, shifting a little to move off the desk. A hand gripping around my wrist stops me. His chair moves so he is now in front of me.

"Devin, I'm only asking because I'm truly concerned." His hand is still wrapped around my wrist, preventing me from moving. "Did Zaid do this to you?" What?! I don't even want to talk about this.

Devin," he pushes.

"Harry, if this will help get you off my back, no it wasn't Zaid. He may be an ass but he would never do this." He wouldn't. I pull the bandage from my arm, exposing the burn. "It was my mom, okay. Now answer my question and let's move on yeah?" I yank my hand from his grip, pushing myself from the desk to stand to my feet.

He seriously loves pushing my buttons, and it's honestly getting on my last nerve. Nobody, not even Zaid knows. I mean, he thinks he knows, but I'm not going to tell him, I lost all trust for him. I don't know why I trust harry with this honestly I shouldn't. Teachers always tell other teachers.

He blinks, looking around the room, most likely to see if I woke the stone heads up, but I didn't. By the look on his face I know exactly what he's going to say.

"Devin I'm -"

I stop him, "Don't. I swear if you do I don't think I'll ever forgive you. I'm only seventeen, they will send me to foster care and I don't want that. Now answer the damn question." I cross my arms over my chest. He sighs in defeat, running his fingers through his hair.

"Fine. Grace isn't my biological mother. That's all I'm going to say." Oh...

He moves his chair, scooting back to his desk, pulling his glasses over his eyes. Something about the way he looks in those glasses does something to me and I can't help but stare. He picks up his pen to continue grading, I find myself snatching the papers from his hand.

"I said I'd help." I split the stack in half, handing him half of them. I have no idea why I'm even thinking this, but what I find myself doing next surprises me as much as it surprises him. "So this might be inappropriate, but since there is only one grading sheet..." I pull his chair back a little from his desk and take a seat right in his lap. I feel his hard stomach against my back, his right knee between my legs. It beats me why I'm doing this, but the thrill of it excites me in many ways and by the feel of it, it excites him too.

"I hope this is okay." I turn a bit, putting more pressure against him. I can feel him struggle from under me and I can't help but bite my lip to contain my girlish giggle.

"It's fine," he says. I know by the sound of it his teeth are clenched.

I'm loving every second of this little torture. It may be wrong, but something in my head is telling me it alright. "Here." he reaches into the drawer of his desk, pulling out a red pen and handing it to me. I gladly take the pen and begin grading.

...

Every few minutes I find myself leaning closer against his chest and his breathing become more jagged. He shifts a little in the seat and I can feel that he's grown every time he rubs against my ass.

"So um, I see you changed your shirt." I finish grading the last paper, laying them on the desk."

"I went home during lunch, some student of mine ran into me because she likes to watch her feet when she walks." I watch as he grades the last question on the test.

"Well, she's sorry...I'm sorry."

"It's okay Devin, I have a million white shirts and that one happened to be one I didn't like so much." He closes the last test, placing the papers on the desk on top of mine. He lets out a big sigh, "Done, finally." his hands land on my lap. My chest jumps from the contact and he notices, pulling away quickly.

"s**t, uhh..." he shakes his head. I take this as a red flag and move from his lap. I shouldn't have, but...I don't know. I glance at the clock on the wall, it's now four. I quickly walk to my desk, grab my bag, and make my way to the door, leaving. I don't look back, I don't say anything, I just leave. I practically ran out of the school.

I don't know what came over me, what brought me to sit down in his lap. Maybe the thrill of knowing it was wrong, maybe because I love watching him suffer. Just maybe.

Admit it Devin, you have a thing for Mr. Sexy-Man-Styles.

I don't.

You do.

You know nothing, you're just a voice inside my head shut up!

I don't know why she - meaning myself - feels the need to but in. I don't have feelings for my teacher. For one, he's my teacher. Do I have to spell it out for you? Second, I don't really have a second.

Exactly.

I groan, shaking my head and pulling my phone and headphones out, utilizing the music to block the annoying voice inside my head. As I make my way through the parking lot, I try and make sense of what happened back at the school. Why didn't he push me away? What if one of the guys would have woken up? What if someone would have walked in?

The music in my ears comes to a stop and I glance down at my phone to see that work is calling. I pull my headphones from the port, sliding my finger across the screen, answering it.

"Hello," I say into the speaker, watching my feet as I walk on the sidewalk.

"Devin sweetie, Its Grace. I didn't know if I would catch you, Harry told me you had detention today. I was calling about your schedule?" I roll my eyes at the fact that Harry of course told his...Grace I had detention. That looks real good on my part.

"Yeah. Should I come by the restaurant or..."

"Whatever is easiest for you Devin. I know you don't have a car at the moment. We could just talk about it over the phone or I could come to you."

"No!" I speak loudly, not meaning for my words to come out in this way. "Um, no, I'll be there, it will just take me a minute."

"Are you sure? It's kind of a far walk honey." She is so sweet. "I can come get you Devin, it's no problem." I shake my head, knowing she can't see, declining her offer.

"I'm used to it, but thank you."

"Alright, be safe sweetie. See you in a bit."

"I will," I smile, clicking the end button. Oh, how I wish I had a mother like Grace. She's so sweet and so caring. I put my headphones back in, clicking the play button, resuming as The Fray plays through my ears.

...

From time to time I catch myself smiling, thinking about what it would be like to have Grace as a mother. We'd bake, cook, and shop together. Do girly things. Nothing my mother ever did once my father passed. Grace is everything I've ever wanted in a mother and more.

After twenty minutes of walking, cutting through yards and trees to make my walk shorter, I'm finally here. I open the door to be met with the air conditioned room, sighing, wiping the bit of sweat from my forehead.

I find Grace behind the bar talking to an older man sitting across from her. She sees me, sending me a warming smile, waving her hand for me come over. I smile back, walking behind the bar to her.

"I'm glad to see you made it one piece," she says, looking at me then back at the older gentleman. "Oh how rude of me. Devin honey this is Robert, my husband. Robert, this is Devin." He nods, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

"It's nice to meet you dear," he smiles. His smile is just as heart throbbing as Harry's.

I take his hand, his handshake is strong and firm. There's no doubt in my that he's a hard working man. Not bad looking either from what I can see. He's about six foot, green eyes, brown hair with a little grey peeking out at the sides. He looks so much like Harry. I see where Harry gets his looks from. Grace must be his step mom.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," he laughs, dropping my hand from his.

"Call me Robert, I'm not on duty so no need to call me sir." Oh. I nod, blushing a bit from embarrassment.

"Robert, look what you did. She was just being proper." Grace grabs my wrist. "Come on, we need get your schedule ready. Robert go home, I'll bring home dinner and feed Gus." She leans across the bar, kissing her husband on the cheek before pulling me back to her office.