Bodyguard: Ace Cain

|1| Mr. Cain

|Mr. Cain|

Never fall for the boyfriend of your best friend, they said. When in fact, they ought to warn you not to fall for your attractive, youthful bodyguard—who just so happened to be your teacher. This was not intended to occur this way. Attachment were to be minimized. However, I completely failed that mission. The good news is that I was not the only one who violated that agreement. The tale, which we had anticipated to be straightforward, proved to be more intricate than we had anticipated.

It began the week following the first day of classes. Our original art history instructor made the decision to retire. Mrs. Petula was, admittedly, quite elderly. After years of service as an instructor at Arbor High, she deservedly needed a vacation. Who exactly would replace her was a mystery, but it did not take long for some high school kids to start rumors. It was only when we noticed a name scrawled on the whiteboard that people began to converse more.

The whispering was astronomical as my friend Tana and I found our seats in the cramped space. Though the name remained faceless, one could only speculate as to what this Mr. Cain might look like. The name gave the impression that it would be some old guy again. Is there any reason why this school could not hire someone who is a little younger?

"Who do we think this guy is gonna be?" Tana asked as we took a seat.

Smiling, I admitted I do not really care to know. "Hopefully, whoever it is is more capable than Mrs. Petula."

She chuckled. "If he turns out to be a looker, maybe I will get more invested in this class."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, art and history are two things you'll never enjoy," I countered. "Even if it turns out that he is attractive."

Tana is not the most academically gifted person I have ever met, at least not in my experience. Especially when it came to historical subjects. Tana was going to nod off, whether it was world history or something as basic as art history. It was hard to blame her—the lectures do get boring at times. I will not even begin to discuss the films they force us to watch. I felt like hitting the snooze button just thinking about it.

Art was something I cherished. My mother introduced me to some amazing artistic visuals when I was a young child. I learned a lot from her, as she was also an artist. Being the daughter of a Helix meant that I had to match my parents' intelligence and skill level. They would do anything to ensure that I was flawless. Regretfully, it implied that there was no margin for error. My dad would not let me hear the end of it if I made the smallest mistake. Particularly in light of my mother's disappearance, but more on that later.

The class was still whispering about the new teacher when the bell rang. The collective silence that descended between us was telling; I am not sure what everyone was expecting. The door slowly swung open, and a very attractive man emerged. He had stunning hazel eyes, dark hair, and a tall build. His jawline had a definition that was to die for. Let us not even talk about how his outfit revealed his body. It seemed as though his garments were on the verge of ripping. The guys looked on in jealousy as the girls gawked at him in wonder. Our prayers for a hot teacher appeared to have been answered. The only thing about him that surprised us was how young he appeared.

Mr. Cain glanced around, seemingly disturbed by the quietness. Has this guy previously instructed a class? It seemed as though he was at a loss for words, let alone actions. It was turning into a big staring contest, and neither of us was helping him. Some of the faces were frowning, while others had smiles on them. Even without making an introduction, Mr. Cain appeared to have gained both allies and detractors.

Glancing around again, those succulent eyes met mine, making me jump a little in my chair. I am not sure if it was his handsome appearance or his hardened gaze, but feeling him engulf me in this way made my cheeks flush. It may be my imagination, but it felt like I had taken him back just as much as he had taken me back. It was weird feeling.