Rules Are Just A Suggestion {Teacher Love Story}

Rules Are Just A Suggestion Chp. 26

     With his arm around my shoulders again, we made our way into the apartment building. We stopped on the second floor and Mr. Jameson slipped his arm off to search his key ring for the right key. When he got the door open, he rested his hand on the small of my back and guided me in.

     The floor was carpeted a dark blue until it reached the kitchen, where it was polished wood. He led me to a black couch, sat me down -his hand sliding away slowly- and headed to the kitchen. He was back with a cup of orange juice and I gradually took it, drinking the whole thing in a matter of seconds.

     "Thanks." I murmured as he took the cup.

     He nodded. "Now, you think you can tell me why you're running around, crying, in the middle of the night?"

     I stared down at my hands, not knowing how much I should tell him. "My mom went out of town for the week and her boyfriend had just currently moved in... He came home today, drunk..." And so I told him the whole story.

     After I finished, I noticed the position we were in on the couch. His arms embracing me, as I continued crying. "Can I see?"

     I looked up at him a little confused. "What do you mean?"

     "Your cuts and bruises."

     I grabbed a hold of my shirt and was about to lift it up to show him my stomach, but he grabbed my hands to stop me. He got up and directed me towards the bathroom. He placed the toilet seat down and patted it for me to sit on.

     I did as I was told and he grabbed a rag from the small closet next to me. The room was silent for a while. He was running the water for it to warm up and I was just watching him. Not in one of those 'I'm stalking you' ways, but one of those 'I can't believe I am here with you right now' ways.

     Here I am, in the presence of the guy who just about an hour ago, I thought I would never see again. Is this what some people would call faith? Or am I just dreaming and when I wake up would I be on my third week of staying in bed thinking about this man. Whatever it was, I'm just hoping I can live it up while it lasts.

     Through the pain that I was feeling, I couldn't stop smiling up at him, even though he wasn't paying any attention to me, I didn't care.

     Mr. Jameson grabbed my left hand and wiped at the cuts on my arm. I flinched as the hot rag cleaned the scratches. The stinging caused my eyes to water up a little. Mr. Jameson, who was kneeling directly in front of me, looked up into my eyes. "Can you lift up your shirt, so I can clean your stomach?"

     It took me a couple seconds to comprehend what he said. I leaned back and showed my tummy. It was a slight thing, but I saw him shutter. I didn't know it was bad, apparently it was though.

     My body stayed stiff as his touch was on me. I was relieved when finally he was done. "Robyn, do you have anywhere else to stay?"

     "The park bench." I said seriously.

     "You're not staying there."

     I shrugged. "Then no."

     He covered half of his face with his hand, as if thinking deeply. After a few long minutes, he said. "You're staying here."

     My eyes went wide. "Are you sure?"

     "No." He admitted, "But I am sure that you are not sleeping in a park."

     I stood quiet, not sure what to say. "Um... Thanks."

     He remained silent, staring at the bathtub. "You can sleep in my room. I'll take the couch."

     "I'm too dirty." I protested. "If anything I should be sleeping on the floor."

     "You are not sleeping on the floor." He said firmly. "Take a shower; it does look like you could use one anyway."

     "No clothes."

     "You can borrow some of mine." My heart thudded loudly in my chest. Is this seriously happening? He stood up, not meeting my eyes. "Come on, my room is this way."

     I followed him down a narrow hallway and he flipped a light on when we came to a room. I stood in the doorway as he rummaged through a drawer in his dresser.

     He handed me a large white t-shirt and red basketball shorts, "here."

     I blushed. "Thanks." I followed Mr. Jameson back to the bathroom. He handed me a wash cloth and a pink fluffy towel. I couldn't help but laugh. "Pink?"

     He cracked a smile. "For occasions like this."

     He walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

      Turns out he had Head and Shoulders shampoo and conditioner, which I sighed in relief when I saw it, thinking that I might have had to use a man's shampoo.

     The hot water would have felt great if it wasn't for the deep cuts on my shoulder blades. I let most of it fall down my stomach. The water relaxed the tender bruises that formed above my belly button and along my sides.

     By the time I stepped out of the shower, there was no more hot water and the entire bathroom was fogged from the steam the hot water gave off. I had to wipe a towel across the mirror to see my reflection clearly. I slipped on the white t-shirt, which fell nearly to my knees, and the red shorts came halfway to my calves. I did the best I could to comb out my hair with my fingers -he can have a pink towel for occasions like this, but when it comes to situations like this he can't even have a decent comb-and opened the bathroom door.

     The hallway was dark and I followed it back to the living room. The TV was on and Mr. Jameson was staring at it blankly. I cleared my throat uncertainly.

     He snapped his head around and quickly got off the couch. "Oh, you're done."

     I nodded. "Yeah."

     He walked up to me. "How you feeling?"

     I bit my lower lip. "Uh... refreshed."

     He chuckled softly. ""Here, give me your clothes. I'll wash them later."

     I handed over my clothes and with nothing to shield me now, Mr. Jameson's eyes slowly traveled over my body. From the top of my head, to my bare feet. I shifted, embarrassed yet secretly pleased.

     He blinked. "I bought you some McDonalds. I wasn't sure if you were hungry, but if you want to just go to bed-"

     "You went out and got McDonalds?" I asked surprised. "How long was I in the shower?”

     "Oh, a good hour." He smiled at my shocked expression. "Don't worry; I was probably only gone for fifteen minutes."

     "Oh, wow." I said. "Sorry I wasted all your hot water."

     "Don't worry about it. Come on the food is in the kitchen."

     "Thanks Mr. Jameson." I said as I followed him to the kitchen. "If there is anything I-"

     "You don't need to do anything for me." He said waving his hand dismissively. "I hope you like chicken nuggets and fries; I didn't know what else to get you."

     I laughed. "Sounds delicious."

     He allowed me to eat in the living room, as long as I had a coaster under my cup and he went to throw my clothes in the washer.

     I was dipping my fry in the little container of Sweet and Sour sauce and was debating in my head. Was all the drama between marine guy and me really worth it?

     Mr. Jameson walked out of the room with the washing machine. As he walked to his room, I noticed he had no shirt and only had dark blue shorts on.

     Maybe it was worth it.