THIRTY-FIVE
Colby shifted in the chair in Principal Anders’s office, dread sitting heavy in his stomach. She’d called him in for a last-minute meeting, and after the interviews he’d been through last week, he didn’t have a lot of hope. Keats’s father had apparently painted quite the picture of an irresponsible, devious Colby Wilkes, and the board had treated Colby in a way that let him know they were giving Alan Keats’s claims some credence. They’d even asked him if he thought his “homosexual status” made the male students reluctant to open up to him. He’d wanted to break things.
And walking through the busy hallways to get here this afternoon, seeing the kids stream past him, some waving and happy to see him—it had physically hurt. These few weeks away felt like years. He’d enjoyed spending his off time with Georgia and Keats, but he missed his job more than he could say.
Rowan breezed in, a stack of folders in her hands and her hair tucked neatly into a low ponytail. “Thanks for getting here so quickly. Sorry I’m running a few minutes late.”
Colby leaned forward in his chair, forearms braced on his thighs, as she slid behind her desk. “Not a problem. What’s going on?”
She looked up after putting the folders aside and met his gaze. “Well, Adam Keats is going on.”
Colby’s stomach dropped to his feet. Oh. Shit. She knew. She’d figured out who the half-naked guy in his kitchen had been. “What do you mean?”
Principal Anders spread her fingers wide across the papers fanned out on her desktop. “He came forward and spoke with the lawyer and a school board official a few days ago.”
“He did what?” Colby’s jaw went slack.
“He defended you, Colby, taking full responsibility for what happened back then. He stated that you tried to help him and he ran away because of his father.”
Colby’s brain scrambled. Keats had come forward? Had Rowan seen him? “I don’t know what to say.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t know he was going to do that?”
Well, that answered one of his questions. He swallowed hard. “You know who he is.”
She nodded. “He requested a private meeting with no school staff there, but I saw him walking out afterward. I pulled him aside to talk to him.”
Colby rubbed a hand over his face. He was so fucking fired.
“It took some convincing to get him to talk to me, but when I told him your job was on the line, he told me the story. He promised me nothing had happened between you two back then.” She smirked. “And he told me to hook him up to a lie detector test if I didn’t believe him. There may have been a few expletives involved in that last part.”
Colby blew out a breath. “I know it looks bad, Rowan, but he’s telling the truth.”
She tapped a finger on her desk. “I know.”
He looked up, surprised.
She gave him a small smile. “I’ve been in this position long enough to have a pretty good bullshit meter. If I had believed anything bad had happened back then, I would’ve never hired you in the first place. Plus, I met Adam Keats’s father the other day and don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“The guy’s scum.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
Colby scrubbed a hand through his hair. “So what happens now? Are you going to tell the board what you know?”
She shook her head. “In my opinion, that has no bearing on the current case. They’ve interviewed who they need to and have the pertinent information. Two teachers from Hickory Point vouched for you. Adam Keats vouched for you. And Travis told his doctors at the inpatient facility that he hid his plans from you and left too fast for you to get any real information out of him. The only person who had anything negative to say was Adam’s father. Travis’s parents don’t have any evidence to really back up a court case at this point. What happened to their son was unfortunate but not anyone’s fault. Their lawyer has advised them not to pursue a case.”
All the starch drained out of him. “They’re going to drop it?”
She gave him a full smile now. “Yes. And if the board had any notions about continuing to investigate you anyway, I told them that you could sue their pants off for discrimination for the homosexual comment they made. I almost threw something at Martin Davis when he asked you that question.”
Colby stared at her, afraid to believe what she was saying. “So . . .”
“You’re cleared, Colby,” she declared, triumph in her voice. “You can come back to school after the Thanksgiving break.”
Colby sagged in his seat, relief flooding him. “Holy shit, Rowan. I can’t even tell you how happy I am to hear that.”
“And”—she leaned forward like she was going to tell him a secret—“if you’re still open to it, I’d like to move you to full time after the first of the year.”
“Seriously?”
“A principal never kids,” she said, pulling a stern face.
“I could kiss you right now.”
She laughed. “How about you save that for the good-looking guy you have at home.”
He grinned. “I definitely will.”
She stood and put her hand out. “I’m glad to have you back on the team, Colby. The kids have missed you. We all have.”
He took her hand and shook it as he stood. “I’ve missed them, too. I can’t wait to get back to it.”
Colby left the school feeling so good he couldn’t stop himself from whistling a tune on the way out. He couldn’t wait to get home and share his news. And tell his two sneaky lovers what they were going to get for keeping this secret from him. Because he had no doubt Georgia knew exactly what Keats had done.
Hiding things was a no-no.
But it was going to be oh-so-fun delivering the consequences.
—
Colby leaned against the doorway to Keats’s bedroom, watching as Keats’s fingers moved over his guitar. He had a look of full concentration—tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, brows drawn—as he tried out a few different combinations of chords for whatever song he was working on. There might as well have been a sign around his neck that said Creative Genius at Work.
Colby took his time soaking in the view, knowing that Keats was so involved he hadn’t noticed him standing there yet. Colby didn’t think he’d ever been more drawn to a guy. The shy teenager had grown into a man who was so quietly amazing, Colby couldn’t get his head around it. This kid, who’d had no fucking shot growing up with that scum of a father, had survived on his own on the streets without any help. He’d kept his shit together enough to not end up in jail or hooked on drugs. He hadn’t taken the easy way out for anything. And though he was still getting on his feet now, he’d somehow managed to become a man with so much heart and loyalty that Colby was damn humbled. He hadn’t been half the man Keats was when he was twenty-three.
“I had a meeting at school today,” Colby said quietly.
Keats looked up from his guitar, his fingers pausing midstrum. He pushed his hair behind his ear. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Principal Anders informed me that the long-dead Adam Keats magically appeared to make a statement to the school board officials a few days ago. A miracle. Runaway kid all grown up just strolling in to set everything right.”
“Imagine that. Must be a full moon. I’ve heard that’s when people come back from the dead.”
“Keats,” he said, stepping into the room. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged like it was no big thing. “You’re a good teacher and shouldn’t be getting dicked around for something that wasn’t your fault. Plus, I wasn’t going to let my father fuck things up for you. I knew he wasn’t going to take back what he’d said about you, so I did what I needed to do.”
“Thank you.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Though saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough. You went to see your dad first, didn’t you?”
He blew out a breath and set the guitar aside. “It was time.”
The idea of Keats having to face that man again made Colby sick to his stomach. “You shouldn’t have gone alone.”
“I didn’t. George went with me.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad.” It was probably good Colby hadn’t been there anyway. All those years ago, Colby had held back his opinion because he was a teacher, and Alan Keats was a parent of one of his students. But if that man said one cross word to Keats now, Colby probably would’ve knocked the bastard off his feet.
“I’m sure you’ll be shocked to find out that he’s still a heartless asshole,” Keats said dryly. “Apparently, he knew all along I was in Dallas but didn’t bother to look me up.”
“God, Keats.”
Keats leaned against the headboard and pulled a knee up. “But I got to see my older brother, so it was worth dealing with my dad for a few minutes. And hopefully it helped you out, too.”
“Helped me out? They gave me my job back. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
His face broke into a broad smile. “You got it back?”
“They’re even going to make me full time after the Christmas break.”
“Holy shit, that’s great. I mean, I hoped I could help, but I didn’t know how much damage my father had already done.”
“Your father did more than enough. You sure you’re okay after seeing him?”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m all right. He was my dad. I’m used to that. But you should’ve seen how pissed George got. She looked ready to take a swing at him.”
Colby smirked. “I have a feeling Georgia would have no problem going to the mat for the people she cares about.”
Keats’s smile was wry. “It was kind of hot, her going into badass mode.”
“Yeah? Maybe one day we can convince her to try out the domme role on you for real. I know a good trainer who could show her a few things.”
He shifted on the bed. “I’m not sure I’d survive both of you topping me, but I’d sure be willing to try.”
“Such a martyr, Keats.”
He laughed. “Yep, a really horny martyr.”
Colby moved Keats’s guitar to the floor and scooted up the bed to sit next to him. “Not getting tired of us old folks yet?”
“Shut the fuck up with that crap,” Keats groused. “You act like you’re hobbling around on a cane.”
“I do own a cane.”
Keats sniffed. “I’m not talking about the kind you torture people with.”
“There’s another kind?” Colby asked innocently.
Keats shoved him, but Colby captured Keats’s wrist before he could take his hand back. He dragged Keats closer, bringing their faces inches apart. “No one’s ever put themselves out there for me like you did. I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Keats. But you know that you don’t owe me anything, right?”
The light in Keats’s eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched. “You think I did it because I owed you?”
“You’re a guy who doesn’t like to leave a debt.”
“No, I’m the guy who has your back. You needed my help. I gave it to you. Maybe you should learn how to accept help as much as you like to dish it out.”
The comment landed square. “You know, sometimes you’re smarter than you look.”
“Fuck you,” he said, his smile returning.
“Funny, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
Keats gave him an up-and-down look. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, Georgia’s cooking dinner over at her place to celebrate with us. What do you say I bring my toy bag, and we give her a go with a little control tonight?”
“I say I’ll be the happiest fucker in the neighborhood.”
Colby closed the last sliver of space between them and kissed him, letting his appreciation for all that Keats had done for him spill into it. This guy was turning out to be so much more than a fun time or a training relationship. Colby knew it before today, but now he couldn’t pretend to deny it. This was getting serious. He was getting serious—about a twenty-three-year-old kid who would soon realize he still had oats to sow and a woman who was going to move away in a few weeks.
He’d waited this long to let his heart get involved with someone, and he’d picked the two people with the highest flight risk.
Way to go, Wilkes.