Hissy Fit (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) Read online

  When Raleigh jumped like she’d been slapped, my eyes narrowed.

  “Y-yes, Darnell?” Raleigh asked, her voice quivering.

  But it wasn’t her words that had me worried, it was the way she clenched her hands behind her back.

  I could see blood running down her hand and dripping to the floor from where she’d clenched her hand so tightly that her fingernails had breached the skin.

  “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Darnell asked. “I think something I ate for lunch isn’t agreeing with me.”

  Raleigh waved to him. “Of course. Take the hall pass.”

  Darnell was up and out of the room faster than I’d ever seen him move.

  I had to jump back to keep the door from hitting me. Thankfully, the door being left open meant I could hear what was being said in the room better—this time by the students.

  “Did you see how far she jumped when he said her name?” a girl asked.

  “Yeah,” another girl replied. “I thought this morning she was going to freak when Tracy touched her accidentally.”

  Tracy was another football player. His real name was Trace Yancy, Tracy for short. He was also a baseball player and not the biggest guy on the team.

  However, what he lacked in size he made up for in character. The kid was a personality, that was for sure.

  “Hey, Coach McDuff!”

  I winced at Coach Casper’s shouted words.

  What was the woman’s malfunction? Couldn’t she just leave me the hell alone while I was spying?

  I knew that the loud voice didn’t go unnoticed, either, because not only was Raleigh watching me but so was the entire class.

  They were all staring at me expectantly.

  Then Raleigh turned around, looking pissed.

  But I didn’t miss the glare she’d sent in Coach Casper’s direction before she turned.

  Instead of turning to converse with Coach Casper, I waved at her apologetically and walked in through the open classroom door, closing it snugly behind me to ensure that the other woman didn’t get any bright ideas that I wanted to talk.

  Once it was closed, I walked up to the corner of my old desk, grabbed a few tissues out of the Kleenex box, and gently placed them in Raleigh’s bleeding hand.

  She looked at me sharply but didn’t let the tissues go.

  “Can I help you?” she questioned, looking at me primly.

  Or, more accurately, my cheek.

  I grinned, happy to see that whatever worries that’d been plaguing her now seemed to have fled.

  “I’m here to help you go over the lesson for today,” I admitted, looking up to find my nephew, Johnson, staring at me in concern.

  He hadn’t lied.

  Something about this class absolutely terrified Raleigh to teach.

  And I was going to find out what it was.

  But first, I had to actually make myself useful so she didn’t get suspicious.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is my favorite lecture to have. You don’t mind, do you?” I teased, batting my eyes.

  Raleigh’s eyes went electric.

  “N-no,” she stuttered.

  I felt something in my stomach flutter.

  “Cool,” I said as I took my baseball cap that said ‘Gun Barrel Coach’ off and placed it on the top of her desk. Once there, I turned to the class. “This is where you get to ask me whatever question you want, and I’ll answer it to the best of my ability. This chapter we’re going to go over today is the one where you should be honest and open with your partner. That includes sharing your sexual history, discussing safe sex practices, making sure that your partner is aware and it’s consensual, and also being sure that you’re very much aware of what you’re doing. To do that, you need to be able to have a discussion with your partner. I want you to write a question that you think a sexual partner should ask before sex. Fold it up and then bring it up to the front and put it in my hat. Go.”

  Everyone started to tear off strips of paper, and I knew this could get out of hand.

  Then again, it always did.

  The senior class were technically adults, but a lot of them were just as immature now as they were when they were freshmen.

  “All right, first question,” I said, gesturing for Raleigh to pick.

  Raleigh pulled out her chair, took a seat, and took a deep breath. Then she pulled out a strip of paper folded so many times that it was hard to see and unfolded it.

  Her face flushed a bright red the moment that she read it.

  “What is the largest thing a woman can fit inside of her?” Raleigh read, choking slightly on the first few words.

  I blinked, then shrugged. “A baby.”

  A couple of the students at the back started to snicker.

  “Next question.” I grinned at Raleigh.

  Raleigh reached for another.

  And again, she choked.

  “Is it better to have anal or vaginal sex?” she read, sounding extra squeaky.

  I bit my lip to keep from bursting out laughing—not because of the question itself, but what that question did to Raleigh’s face.

  I turned to the class at large. “I’m going to be completely, one hundred percent honest with you. If you have a willing partner that trusts you, both sexual acts can be very satisfying. It’s up to you to decide which one—if either—you like best. Next?”

  Raleigh squeaked so cutely that I wanted nothing more than to expound on my answer just to hear what she’d say—or do—next.

  Wrong time, wrong place.

  A couple of the girls in the class giggled, as a couple of the male students grunted.

  I rolled my eyes.

  The entire damn class was filled with my football team, with more than half of them being on the baseball team. This was nothing I hadn’t already heard, in one form or another, from them before.

  I was always quite open with my students—and had been—since I’d started teaching this class and realized the importance of it.

  “How many calories are there in semen?”

  I had no idea.

  That was a new question, even for me.

  “Uhhh,” I hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, Google.”

  I spun around and faced Raleigh, who had a Google device on her desk. “How many calories are in semen?”

  The girl was all around surprising.

  Then the damn thing answered her.

  In a robotic feminine voice, it said, “Each teaspoon of ejaculate has about five to seven calories.”

  Everyone, even Raleigh and I, laughed.

  “Maybe we should just read these to your Google, Mizz Crusie,” came Johnson’s response.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, we could do that, but then it’s possible you wouldn’t get honest answers. And I want you to have nothing but the truth.”

  “So help you God?” Raleigh whispered, almost to herself.

  I snorted and bumped her with my hip, then moved to her desk and propped half of my ass right next to her.

  “Next?”

  “If you have sex underwater, will the baby be a mermaid?” Raleigh tried valiantly not to laugh, then answered that one herself. “No, mermaids aren’t real. However, sex underwater is still unprotected sex. It can, in fact, result in a baby. It just won’t be cool like a mermaid.”

  I found myself grinning.

  “Next?” I asked.

  She pulled out two more. “Last two.”

  I held my hand out for one of them and opened it for her before placing it on the desk beside her elbow.

  My fingertips brushed the skin of her arm and she said, “You touched my weenis.”

  I blinked. “I touched your pen…what?”

  “Weenis. Weenis is also known as the skin of your elbow. See?” She pointed at her elbow, then pinched the loose skin there.

  “Oh,” I paused. “Good to know.”

  Sh
e bit her lip, then looked away quickly, clearing her throat.

  But before I could tease her about her ‘weenis’ or answer the last two questions, the bell rang. “I’ll answer these at the beginning of next session so I don’t interrupt Ms. Crusie’s next class.”

  “Yes, Coach,” the class replied.

  After a myriad of ‘bye, Ms. Crusie, bye, Coach McDuff,’ the class finally emptied of its occupants, leaving me and the silent woman sitting next to me completely alone.

  “That was fun,” I replied.

  She rolled her eyes and stood up, reaching down to collect her papers that were half under my ass.

  I didn’t move.

  Not until she turned her eyes up to me, and even then, it was to grab her wrist so she couldn’t go any further away.

  “Go to the baseball game with me tonight, then have dinner with me.”

  She blinked.

  Blinked some more.

  Then burst out laughing.

  Chapter 6

  My PEN IS bigger than yours.

  -a note from student to student in Raleigh’s class

  Raleigh

  “Why me?” I asked bluntly once I’d regained my composure. “I’m nobody. Is this a pity party date or something?”

  He wasn’t being serious.

  Ezra McDuff, heartthrob and star in my own private fantasies for more years than I could count, was not asking me out on a date.

  Hell had frozen over.

  “Come on,” he urged, his eyes genuine. “Please? Is it so hard to believe that I find you pretty, and want to take you out to dinner?”

  I didn’t want to tell him no.

  I’d tell him yes every single time.

  Do you want to come to the moon with me, Raleigh? Yes, I’ll fly to the moon with you every day and twice on Sunday if only you asked it.

  Will you loan me eight thousand dollars? Sure, let me borrow against my 401k. It takes two days. Is that okay?

  I need bone marrow from a child that’s of my blood. Will you have my babies?

  “Raleigh?” Ezra urged.

  I blinked, startled.

  “Yes, I’ll have your babies,” I blurted.

  His face split into a wide grin. “That’s not quite what I asked.”

  I felt like I was going to vomit.

  That did not just come out of my mouth.

  I looked at him wide-eyed. “What did you ask again? I’m afraid I got lost when you told me I was pretty.”

  His smile turned soft. “I asked if you’d go to the baseball game with me, and then go out for a bite to eat afterward.”

  So nowhere near ‘have my babies.’ Got it.

  “I don’t know...” I hedged. “Me and sporting events aren’t really a good idea. The students weren’t joking. They all look at me like I have the plague when it’s mandatory that I attend. You should’ve seen the last event that I was forced to help chaperone. Everyone was on their best behavior because they thought I was going to ruin it if they did anything to garner my attention.”

  He snorted and scooted minutely closer.

  “I promise that it’s not going to be bad. You don’t need to show up until the end of the game,” he said. “And you can hide in the back by the dugout. They’ll never even see you unless you come around the wall.”

  I frowned. I could do that…

  “All right,” I acquiesced. “But if this goes bad, you only have yourself to blame.”

  He winked at me. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  In two hours, he’d be choking on those words.

  ***

  Ezra

  “Johnson,” I bellowed. “Pull your head out and play ball!”

  As a coach, I probably shouldn’t tell any of my players to ‘pull their head out.’

  However, they were playing like utter shit. Like we hadn’t gone through practice for two months working on the most basic of drills.

  Yet, here they were, missing balls left and right, showing me that they weren’t near as ready as I thought they were.

  A little league team could play better than them right then.

  I should also have some more composure than I did, but I couldn’t manage to get my shit together.

  My day had gone from great that morning after spending it with Raleigh, to absolute and utter shit the further the day went along.

  All of that had to do with the goddamn school board and their refusal to consider building the athletics department a goddamn field house or sporting complex that wasn’t falling down to the ground.

  Hell, getting new uniforms out of them had been like pulling teeth, and even then, they’d only had to cover the cost of shipping the goddamn things. The damn booster club had raised the money for all the rest.

  “Safe!”

  I looked at the ump, my blood boiling, and felt my entire body go stiff.

  The umpire wasn’t helping things. Not only were my boys playing bad, but the umpire was making calls that were clearly in favor of the other team.

  “All right, boys. Bring it in!” I called.

  My players brought it in, but a whistle from the far side of the dugout had me turning to see the principal there, gesturing me over.

  I grimaced when I saw the superintendent of the school district standing beside her.

  Son of a bitch.

  “All right, boys. Pay attention to the song. Talk quietly amongst yourself. I’ll be back.” I patted Johnson’s hat with the tips of two fingers, and he winked at me.

  Normally, I’d have left the team in the assistant coach’s hands, but since the assistant coach was busy teaching the JV team currently, they didn’t have anyone to distract them while I likely was on my way to getting my ass chewed.

  Every step I took in their direction was purposeful and measured.

  I’d just about gotten to them when I saw Raleigh at the entrance to the field next to the end of the dugout, trying valiantly to help Morgan Bryce get over the hump that separated the grass from the other side of the fence.

  I let out a sigh of relief when I saw what it was the superintendent and the principal had needed.

  The weight of Morgan’s wheelchair made it nearly impossible to get over the hump.

  “You singing for us, Morgan?” I asked, hopeful.

  Morgan shrugged. “Yeah.”

  I laughed. “Don’t sound so excited about it now. You might pop a blood vessel in your exuberance.”

  Morgan snorted. “Help me out here, will ya?”

  I went to the back of his wheelchair and finagled him out onto the field, patting his shoulder as I did. “Can you get there the rest of the way?”

  I eyed the wheels on the wheelchair, and then the thick grass and dirt that separated him from the microphone that they’d set up for him to sing “God Bless America” and likely “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” too.

  “Yeah, Coach. I’ll be fine,” he said, then started off.

  “Thanks,” Raleigh said. “I just didn’t have the power in my thighs to get him going, and his wheelchair battery is low. Something about the charge not holding? I’m not sure. But you saved the day.”

  I winked at her, then turned to the other two individuals still standing there.

  The superintendent was a big guy, almost as big as me. He could’ve just as easily helped, but then he might’ve gotten his shiny loafers dirty or something.

  “Mrs. Sherpa. Mr. Powers.” I nodded my head at them.

  Raleigh hissed in a breath, and I looked at her.

  Her eyes were directed at something across the field, and then she was running.

  I turned to see what was going on and cursed before starting off after her.

  I did have to say, though. Raleigh was quick.

  She only tripped over thin air twice before making it to Morgan’s side, who was down on his belly in the dirt.

  I heard the tail end of the laughter and the not-so-sweet-nat
ured ribbing that a few of the seniors were giving Morgan. More than a few of them were laughing and pointing, not to mention being so loud that even the other team was paying attention.

  “Stop it now!” Raleigh growled at my team. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. Instead of laughing that he fell out of his chair, you should be helping him up!”

  “Not my fault the dumbass didn’t pay attention to what was in front of him,” one of the boys muttered.

  I arrived at Morgan’s other side, and together, Raleigh and I both maneuvered Morgan back into his seat.

  “You okay, bud?” I asked him while Raleigh wiped his shirt off.

  Morgan wasn’t looking at me. He was looking down at his hands.

  I could feel him trembling.

  He was angry and embarrassed, and it didn’t help that the boys continued to tease him as the rest of the high schoolers in the stands behind him laughed at their antics.

  “Stop,” Raleigh ordered harshly. “All of you stop.”

  Morgan turned so sharply that he was only on two of the four wheels and started motoring back to the entrance of the field—song forgotten.

  “That’s why we’re losing!” I heard a player say from the back. “Ms. Crusie is here. Her and her bad juju, along with Morgan’s bad luck are not doing us any favors.”

  It sounded like Camden, but I wasn’t sure without actually turning around and confirming.

  Unfortunately, I was too focused on Raleigh’s devastated face to take my eyes away from hers. “Wait for me at the dugout, darlin’?”

  Raleigh didn’t hesitate, looking away quickly. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be waiting for me.

  The moment she was gone, I caught my sister’s eye in the bleachers and gave her a chin lift and nudged my head in Raleigh’s direction.

  She didn’t miss a beat.

  That’s what I loved about my baby sister. She was always quick to catch on, even though some of those times I didn’t want her inside my brain knowing my every thought.

  The moment she was gone, I gave a quick look at all the parents.

  None of them had said a word, and they were all waiting for me to give a pep talk that I’d been intending to give to their sons.

  Well, I wouldn’t be doing that. Not after all the bullshit I’d just heard.