20. Bohdi

Chapter twenty

Bohdi

M y leg bounces furiously under my desk as I keep peeking down at my desk drawer, wanting to open it and down the entire contents of the bottle that is inside. All day, I have thought about the encounter I had with Brayden and Lance . Instead of being in class, Brayden is fucking some guy. I can't believe I was willing to help him—in my spare time—when he doesn't give a fuck about his grades. I glance up, checking the time. He's due here any minute now and right now I'm too angry that I don't even know if I can teach this class to him. As I battle with my thoughts and debate getting up and leaving, the door opens and in walks Brayden, head held high. He takes a seat at the desk directly opposite me, placing his bag on the floor. His eyes meet mine, emotionless.

My eyes roam his body, his hands, his legs, his neck, his lips.

Were they all over Lance earlier? Did Lance kiss those lips? Did those hands roam Lance's body?

My mind is fucked, but I can't help but accept it. Whatever these feelings are, I can't ignore them. I can't turn them off. This invisible string that connects me to him tugs at me day in and day out. He plagues my mind all day and my dreams are flooded with him all night. I can't escape him. I know he's my student and it can't go anywhere, but even seeing him, being near him, settles something in me, even when I'm angry. Well, was.

Now, my body instantly relaxes that he's here. In my proximity. Near me.

"What are you teaching me today, then?" He stares at me with a bored expression. I rise from my seat and take off my suit jacket, then roll up my shirt sleeves.

"What do you want to learn, Brayden?" Walking around my desk, I lean on the front, crossing my arms in front of me. His eyes scan both of my fully tattooed arms and then he shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't know. Maybe how to not be an asshole? Seems you could learn a thing of two in that department, too?"

The big guns are coming out today. Granted, the way I handled earlier wasn't mature of me. I hated seeing him with another guy, especially someone I know he's been with, well I assume he has been with by the way they kissed.

That still didn't warrant me speaking about his private work in front of other pupils, no matter who it was. I realize that . . . now.

I put my hands up in surrender.

"I was an asshole earlier, Brayden, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disclosed anything about your personal grades in front of your boyfriend." It slips before I can even think about it, and I instantly regret it. His eyebrows pinch together as he rears his head back, he tilts his head. Something I have noticed he does when he is confused about something, and I find it quite adorable. It reminds me of when dogs do head tilts. I bite my cheek to stop myself smirking.

"Boyfriend? Who said Lan was my boyfriend?"

"Your hook up or whatever you youngsters call it." I raise an eyebrow, a small smile tilting up on one side of my face. He gives me a closed lip smile and shakes his head, glancing down.

"Lan is not my boyfriend. We have hooked up, yes, and I know I gave off the impression earlier that we were late because we were hooking up, but that wasn't the case. We were in the coffee shop for an hour. I don't enjoy drinking my coffee too hot, I prefer it warm, and it took a while to cool down before I could drink it." He exhales as if he's been holding that on his chest all day. "That's why we were late."

"Because your coffee was too hot." I hold my laugh in, but barely as I smile at him.

"Hey, I enjoy my coffee lukewarm, there is nothing wrong with that." He leans back in his chair, throwing one arm out to the side and leaning it on the chair beside him.

"OK, now we have discovered that Lance and not Lanson"—I raise my eyebrow at him—"is your hook up and you enjoy lukewarm coffee. Can we get on with the class?"

"Yeah, sorry. I always forget his name. That's why I stick with Lan now and he was my hook up." He mumbles the last few words as he leans down and grabs a pad and pen out of his pocket. My ears perk up at the was , but I try to mask it by nodding and returning to my seat.

"I had a thought which I think will be brilliant for your grade, but it will take some work on your part."

"Shoot."

"I think we can link this with your marketing assignment. I want you to come up with a business idea. It can be anything you want. It doesn't even have to be a profitable business, it can be a nonprofit, whatever you wish. I don't know if you have thought much about your marketing assignment but—"

"I do have an idea and I don't know if it's something I can class as a business," he says, tapping the pen on his desk.

"Let's hear it."

"On my marketing project, I wanted to market a charity and find ways of getting people to donate. By reaching out to multimillion dollar companies who could showcase their commitment to strategic business goals such as social responsibility and ESG objectives."

I stare at Brayden in amazement. I don't think he realizes how impressed I am. The thought he has put into this already and the fact he even thought out the larger companies and why they might donate . . .

"Wow." I'm speechless. My cheeks hurt from how big I smile at him. "It's perfect, Brayden." I can't help but stare at him in amazement.

"Thanks," he replies shyly, dipping his head, but not before I see the blush creep up his face.

"What's the charity?" I question.

"I don't know how it works, but it's more of a center, but a charity to set up to fund the center." He pauses, fixating on his pen that he continues to tap away on the table. He doesn't peer up at me before he says.

"I want to create a rehab center. But not any old rehab center, and nothing like the state ones. I want to create a safe space not only for people with addiction, but for the families who have had addiction affect them." He gulps. "Like me and Bex." He winces, as if he's trying to hold off bad memories. He opens his mouth to talk and closes it again, frowning down at the tapping pen.

"Talk to me," I whisper.

He takes a few gulps. "Bex was a good kid." He smiles, as if the good memories flood his thoughts. "He was beyond selfless, always tried to hide me from the bad in the world. He protected me day in and day out. When Mom's drunk friend would turn up to the trailer, he would barricade the door with every bit of furniture we had so they couldn't get into our room. He would read to me out loud so I couldn't hear the fuckery that was happening outside the door. He was my twin brother and all he thought about was protecting me and nothing else. We had a shit childhood, but I can't say I would go back and change any of it, and that's because of Bex. He was my rock, my best friend. As long as I woke to him each day and got to spend my day with him, I was OK. I was happy."

A pain sears through my chest hearing a tiny glimpse into Brayden's life. I can't imagine what it would be like digging deep. He must have many terrible memories, but I can't help but be thankful to Bexley at this moment.

"Bex had to see all the bad to know to hide me away from it. Of course, he couldn't hide me away from everything, but he did what he could." He stares past me at the wall, deep in thought. "No matter how hard it got, he was there, and he never closed the door on me." He frowns at the wall and then blinks multiple times.

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "So, how do you think I could link this to creating a business?"

"First, you never have to be sorry. I'm here if you ever need to talk. Second, that's easy, Brayden." I pause, smiling at him. "You create the charity." His eyes widen and then a smile I don't think I have ever seen on Brayden appears. In that moment, it dawns on me that I would do just about anything to see that smile again and again.

"It's perfect!" he excitedly exclaims. I clap, standing up and walking over to him, taking the seat at the desk next to him, pulling the desk closer to his.

"Have you got your laptop?" I question.

"Yup," Brayden replies, bending down to grab his bag and pulling out his laptop.

"OK, I think we need to start by writing everything you want the charity to be and everything you want to achieve from it. Is it open for all ages? Is it for a certain age range? Those sorts of things, then we can start working on a business plan and a name of the charity." I realize Brayden has frozen and when my eyes meet his, the confusion mars his face, as his eyebrows drop.

"We?" he questions. I nod.

"We." I smile. "I want to help you, Brayden. And I know this is your assignment, and it's not technically real, but I think it's a great idea. Something tells me when you put your mind to something, you will achieve it. Just because it's not real right now doesn't mean it can't be in the future." Being this close to Brayden does things to me it shouldn't, goosebumps rise on my arms, the smell of his aftershave becomes one of the best things I have ever smelled. I notice things more, the way his eyes are blue, but they have small gray and white specs going through them, giving off a glowing effect.

"But why do you want to help me?"

I can't bring myself to say the many reasons, one because I enjoy being around him for my own selfish needs. He makes me calm; he makes me content. Weirdly, he makes me happy, and I haven't felt this calm and happy in a long time. But two, I'm not ready to go into detail about Jace, about how he died, why he died. The reasons if you dig deep into Jace's death all started with someone with a drug addiction. Someone who created a monster. How do I tell him I don't want him or his brother to be like my nephew's killer? It's not something I can even think about explaining right now, so with a smile and a small shrug, I lie.

"It's a great idea and something I'm interested in." He seems to accept it by nodding, but a small squint and the way his eyes roam my face, as if he senses the lie, makes me feel uneasy and has me glancing away. He doesn't push it, instead he types away on his laptop, searching up ideas.

A while later, Brayden has already begun the start of his business plan. He hasn't come up with a name yet but looks happy with what he has come up with so far. I have been next to him on my laptop, researching larger organizations that he could contact that would help. In business management, colleges contact companies that the students select and notify them that the project is not real, but it is for the students' overall grade. Some companies will express that they don't have time to take part in the pitches. However, larger corporate companies want to create added value to their business to show they work with schools and colleges. It helps their profile, and it helps bring in future clients.

I glance up at the time, noticing we have been here for nearly two hours already. These classes are only meant for an hour. He already has a lot of classes and training. On top of that, I can't overrun him.

"Let's pack away. We can carry on with this tomorrow. Go get some rest."

Brayden tidies up his papers while yawning.

"No gym tonight." I point to him with a smirk.

He smiles. "Absolutely not. I need to go back to the trailer and see if I can find Bex and then I'm crashing for the rest of the night."

Hearing that he's going back to the trailer floods me with unease.

"I can drop you there?" I say, not glancing at him while I tidy away my desk, trying to appear casual.

"Thanks, sir, but it's OK. I could do with a walk before seeing him, anyway."

I don't like it one bit, but I need to step back. He's a good kid, he knows what he's doing.

"If you're sure." I raise an eyebrow at him in question and he nods his head, smiling again.

I move over to my desk at the front and begin packing papers and my laptop into my bag.

"Sir." I turn on my heels to find Brayden standing directly behind me. He stares at me, and I glance down to see his hand outstretched. He wants to shake my hand.

The minute my fingers brush his palm as I grasp his hand, my body slithers in goosebumps. My heart speeds up and I gulp, my mouth becoming as dry as a desert. My hand tingles as we both capture each other in a trance once again. Nothing has felt more right than his skin on mine. Nothing has made me feel so alive with the feel of his skin. We continue shaking hands, a weird buzz circles us as we both can't take our eyes of each other. Once again, my eyes move to his lips and I know right here, right now, I want to feel his lips on mine. I want to kiss him and revel in how alive he can make me feel.

As if thinking the same thing, Brayden's eyes flash to my lips and his hand tightens around mine as if he's trying to physically hold himself back.

I can't let this happen, not here, not now.

I pull my hand away, tucking my now clenched fists into my pockets.

"See you tomorrow." I offer a reassuring smile and he finally drops his hand as if it takes him a moment longer to snap out of the trance.

"See you tomorrow, sir."

The invisible string is there immediately. Every time I walk away from Brayden, or he walks away from me, that pull tugs as if I need to be with him. I allow myself to peer up at the door and a smile forms on my face when Brayden stares back at me, smiling as if he feels it too.