The Final Lesson Plan Page 5

  The Briggs who spent the day with me was not like the Briggs I knew seven years ago, nor was he really like the Briggs I'd known all last month. He was honest, funny, romantic, and completely and totally doting. We swam for a bit. I was worried about his hand, but he didn't seem to mind at all. The cut wasn't too deep. Briggs said that the chlorine stung at first, but he was man enough to deal with it. And my God, was he man enough.

  Briggs didn't have swim trunks; he opted to just swim in his boxer briefs. I was surprised that he didn't just whip those off too, proud of his manhood and all. When I asked him about it, he looked at me and simply said, "This is your brother's pool; that'd be some disrespectful shit." I even tried a little seduction number in the hot tub, but he didn't think it would be right to fool around in Jasper's hot tub either. When had he gotten these newfound morals? When I mentioned that every time we had fooled around it was in Jasper's pool house, it stumped him, so he picked me up and took me dripping wet and squealing back to my bedroom to make up for all the averted advances.

  While we were in my bed, Briggs heard my stomach gurgle; we hadn't eaten since the waffles, and it was well past dinnertime. We'd taken a considerably long nap after the third time. "Girl, we need to fatten you up, get some meat on these delicious bones."

  "Oh God, this past month, all I've done is eat and drink. Fattening up is the very last thing I need. I don't know what it is, but every summer, I gain weight," I admitted.

  "Alright, you stay here all naked in this bed, and I'll go get us some food," he offered.

  "I don't have much; there's nothing in the fridge or freezer," I replied.

  "Shit, I don't cook; I don't expect you to either. I'm going on a food run," he said. "I'll be back in a bit. Don't get dressed." He put his shorts on without his boxers since they were still drying out on the patio. I loved watching him pull his shorts up over his bare ass, reminding me what was all mine for the entire month. The muscles in his back flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head. When he turned around, he leaned down on the bed and kissed my stomach, and said, "I'll feed you in a few." Then, he kissed my lips with his own hunger and purpose. "Leaving is such a pitiful sorrow."

  Laughing, I said, "What?"

  "Leaving is such a pitiful sorrow, you know, Romeo and Juliet," he said, staring at me strangely.

  "Ummm...no...it's not...whatever…forget it," he was just too damn cute to correct. "Briggs, you're wonderful, thanks for going to get us food. What're ya gonna get, anyway?" I asked.

  "It's a surprise, but stay as naked and as beautiful as you are now," he said before he kissed my forehead and left.

  Leaving is such a pitiful sorrow? Who could possibly think that, "Leaving is such a pitiful sorrow" could be the right words? I mean, I guess it made sense, but it's the farthest thing from poetic expression. It really was extremely sexy to me when a man could talk about literature and found pleasure in reading. It was cute that Briggs tried to allude to literature, but I was pretty certain that we'd both benefit if he stuck strictly to football references.

  After Briggs left, I jumped in the shower to wash the chlorine out of my hair and clean up after three very hot sessions of the Briggs machine. Fuck. Did I just call him the "Briggs Machine?" I was definitely going to need to confess that one to Char. Whenever we said or even thought something beyond cheesy, we reported back to each other. Admittedly, it was more often my admittance than hers. Her cheese factor was a lot less than mine. Fucking Briggs machine? How cheesy was that? Accurate, but cheesy nonetheless.

  To think that one month ago he couldn't tell the difference between a clit and peach pit, a G-spot or a tater tot; it was an amazing how far he'd come. Bedroom Briggs used to be beyond below average. After one month of hardcore tutoring and teaching, Briggs became the overachieving learner that I always knew he could be.

  After my shower, I put my hair in a side braid that wrapped around to the left side of my shoulder. Briggs mentioned once that he liked Char's when she wore it like that. The night that they were supposed to have a "no strings attached" kind of night to be exact. Thankfully, they both knew what I wanted a lot more than I did. They didn't touch one another, but did have a few heated games of Madden before I barged in to his apartment like a crazy, scorned lover.

  One thing that did happen that night was the Briggs Fan Club was officially started. Char became his biggest advocate. If I allowed her to, she'd get a shirt that said, "Screw Edward and Jacob! Team Briggs!" and wear it in front of Leo at all given times. She claimed that she had no problem with Leo, but would have a problem if I ended up with him. Those kinds of statements scared me. I didn't listen to her when she trumpeted her warnings about Marcus and look where that got me. Where did that get me? Oh yeah, sexual paradise. Marcus was the stepping-stone to the two most perfect men ever. I guess I could thank Marcus for being the rotten path that led me to the land of lust and satisfaction. Between Briggs and Leo both, they'd awakened a desire in me that I'd never known before. I prayed that it never went dormant again. For the first time, I felt alive, sexually and sensually.

  I decided to listen to Briggs and not get dressed, but I did pull on a pair of boy short panties that said "MUCK FICHIGAN" on the butt in scarlet and grey. I knew Briggs would enjoy the visual and the joke. I was lying on my stomach reading my Kindle when Briggs got back. I heard him chuckle before he said, "I don't know if I want to spank that ass or devour it."

  "You could do both," I said as I started to roll over.

  "Don't move, stay like that," Briggs commanded. "Do you have a scarf or something like that? I'm gonna blindfold you."

  "Oh Christian, you bad boy," I said, giggling.

  "Who the fuck is Christian?" he said, anger invading his voice.

  Sitting up, I started laughing, "Briggs, you really do need to get out from under your sports-infested rock and do a little reading now and then," I admonished. Topless, I got up and grabbed him a scarf from my closet. "Christian is a character…in a book. He likes it rough and tends to tie up and blindfold his chicks."

  "You read shit like that?" he asked, staring at me in awe.

  "You know it...over…and over…again," I teased, watching him squirm.

  "Damn girl, you keep this up, and neither of us are gonna be able to walk out of here tomorrow," he said, adjusting himself. "We've already broken the contract…three times today. I'm all for a fourth." Briggs sat me back down on the bed and blindfolded me. "We're gonna play a little game. I'm gonna feed you and surprise you with different tastes and foods."

  "Mmmmm, sounds yummy, but lose the shirt. Fair is fair," I moaned, licking my lips in exaggerated hunger and desire. Laughing, Briggs kissed me, and I felt him get back up off the bed. I heard his footsteps as he left the room.

  I couldn't help but think how much my life had changed in the last month. If I had to be honest, deep down honest with myself, then I would have to admit that Marcus and I hadn't laughed together in ages. Just today alone, I'd probably smiled more with Briggs than I had in the last year with Marcus. Sometimes, I wanted to figure out a way to punch myself in the face. I was so blind and inexplicably dumb dumb dumb.

  I heard ruffling; I assumed it was a bag from a fast food restaurant. I felt him sit down on the bed as I sank and shifted a little closer to him as he did so. "Okay baby, open up," he commanded. I opened my mouth as he placed a French fry in my mouth. "Now guess…"

  "Guess what?" I asked, not understanding my role in this game, but wanting more fries, preferably with some catsup. "It's a French fry."

  "Yes, but from where?" he inquired.

  "Ummm....I don't know. McDonald's?" I guessed.

  "No way...these are not McDonald's. Try again," he said. "I'll put some catsup on it this time."

  And that is pretty much how my "dinner" went. I ate French fries from four different restaurants. I had bites of three different types of cheeseburgers, three different kinds of chicken nuggets, and sipped three separate Diet Cokes. Briggs made the game enjoyable and tant
alizing. Sometimes, I was instructed to take the fry from his mouth. He lined up three chicken nuggets on his chest, and since I was blindfolded, he gave me instructions on where to find each strategically placed nugget. However, the route he gave me in my blindfolded state wasn't a direct and easy route. It was fun and silly, carefree. He turned something ordinary into something extraordinary and fun.

  But the best was when Briggs gave me my dessert. I bit down on a scrumptious Ho-Ho, but then I was surprised at the second bite. He'd given me another Ho-Ho, or so I thought. I actually couldn't tell the difference between a Hostess Ho-Ho and a Little Debbie Swiss Cake Roll. I never knew a buffet of fast food and gas station takeout could be so memorable and delicious.

  Typically, a "date" or "dinner out" with Marcus consisted of some steakhouse and an action-adventure movie. The meal was usually spent with Marcus texting "a client from work," while he nodded and "uh-huhed" through conversations with me. Let me tell you, I was swooning by the time we would get home, just begging for him to rip my clothes off me and take me on the kitchen floor. Or…he would go to his computer and look up sports scores while I went off to my bedroom to read whatever erotic Kindle book I'd recently downloaded with one click.

  It was a no-brainer. I would take on-the-bed, fast food games with Briggs any day over what Marcus and I used to consider a marital date. "What're you thinking about?" Briggs asked, as I lay back on the bed, completely stuffed with fried food and grease and loving every fat-filled second of it.

  "Marcus," I admitted.

  "Oh," he sounded disappointed. I took off my blindfold as he got off the bed to clean up the various bags and wrappers that littered the bed.

  "Briggs stop," I said. "That can wait. Please…sit down." I reached for his hand, which he took reluctantly. I kissed him when he was close enough to reach. "I was thinking that this was the best date that I have had in over two years." I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head down on his chest. "I'd much rather spend a night alone with you eating junk food than spend one more second with that jackass. That's what I was thinking about."

  Smugly smiling, "Woman, you're gonna be the death of me," he said as he rolled me over and pinned me beneath him." He kissed me deeply and then trailed his way down my neck and chest. He stopped and slowly looked up at me. "I'm not a pussy or anything, but I swear to god, whenever you say his name or Cling's name, my heart stops. And…I feel…I feel...like…I can't breathe."

  At that moment, my phone began to vibrate. I planned to ignore it, but immediately after mine vibrated, Briggs' began to hum as well. We exchanged glances, and Briggs leaned over the bed and retrieved both of our phones from the floor. Handing me my phone, and looking at his text, Briggs grumbled, "Fucker."

  "What?" I asked, as I looked down at the text on my phone from Leo:

  Hey Beautiful. Your 15-hour sentence is up. You can send him home now.

  I looked at the clock and did some feeble mental math, and realized that it had been exactly 15 hours since Leo left the pool house. According to the rules, I was only granted 15 hours alone with each man on any given occasion. As much as I thought it was cute that Leo sent the text, it also made me feel horribly for him. I hoped he hadn't sat around watching the clock just waiting for the time when he knew that Briggs and I were no longer together.

  With growing curiosity, I asked, "What does your text say?" Briggs handed me his phone, and I gave him mine to read as well. Leo wasn't as kind to Briggs.

  Tick Tock barbarian. Go home. 15 hours. She doesn't want you there anyway.

  Briggs handed my phone back to me and said, "Ya know, we could just tell him that I left already, and I could sleep right here with you in my arms all night long." I groaned, because just the thought of that made me already miss him. Almost on cue, our phones buzzed again.

  My text from Leo:

  And Janelle, please don't lie to me. Always be honest with me, even if the truth is going to hurt me, destroy me.

  Briggs' text from Leo.

  Don't fucking lie to me either, asshole.

  "Well, he obviously likes one of us better than the other," Briggs joked as he got up from the bed. He picked up the rest of the trash and walked in to the kitchen.

  I threw on a shirt and followed him out of the bedroom. "So, you're leaving? Just like that?" I asked.

  He walked over, wrapped his arms around me, and said, "Janelle, believe me, it's killing me. But he's right. We made a deal. It's only fair."

  "But…I'm not ready for you to leave," I whined.

  "Babe, listen to me, if you wanna call him and cancel this whole contract right now, then be my guest," he said, nodding down toward my phone. "Tell Cling that you're done. Tell him you made your decision," he said, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. Inhaling deeply, he whispered in my ear, "I'll take you back into that bedroom this very second and show every single inch of your gorgeous body just how happy I am."

  I looked at him. There was such hope and excitement in his blue eyes. Before I could answer, he kissed me again with such passion and want, with a promise of what could be ours. Briggs' kisses took my breath away and always left me wanting more, needing more, begging for more. Breaking apart, I dropped my head, and said, "Briggs...I..."

  "Shhhh," he said, covering my lips. "I know…fuck…know." He loosened his grip, dropped his hands from my waist, and shook his head. Shaking himself quickly, he grabbed the trash bag out of the container, tied the ends together, and started for the door. "I'll take this out. I'll see you the day after tomorrow, babe." And he walked out, leaving me alone in my pool house, with a heavy, leaden heart.

  No sooner had the door slammed behind him that I heard his muffled voice outside,

  "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  I opened the door just in time to hear Leo say, "Hasn't rained in three days. Jasper's paying me to landscape…gotta move the sprinklers."

  "We said no drop ins, and you know it." Briggs accused, dropping the trash bag and standing toe-to-toe with Leo. "How long ya been out here? Do ya get your rocks off watching, Cling? Is that your thing?"

  "Watch it Alexander, I've about had it with your shit," Leo demanded, pushing Briggs away from him. "Stop treating Janelle like some piece of meat. All you ever talk about is fucking her."

  I knew I had to stop them or they were going to kill each other. But truthfully, they were so fucking hot; I just wanted to be the meat in an Alexander Cling sandwich for the rest of my ever-loving life. Seriously, I could rip my clothes off right now, beckon them both into the pool house, and pounce on both of them and every single one of my archived, "save it for later" fantasies would come to fruition.

  Sighing, I said, "Back away from each other…now." When neither of them moved, I yelled a little louder, with more force than I ever even yelled at my students with. "I said NOW." They both took a few steps backward and looked at me like kids with their hands in a cookie jar. "You guys promised. You both said you could handle this."

  "Hey, I'm just doing my job," Leo said as he bent over to pick up the sprinkler, grinning sheepishly at me as his dimples begged for forgiveness.

  "Leo, you know damn well that could've waited until tomorrow morning," I scolded as he dropped his head and shrugged his shoulders. "You're coming tomorrow for Jasper's picnic, right?"

  Leo nodded and smiled at me. "I wouldn't miss—"

  "Picnic? As in family picnic?" Briggs asked, looking at me with an accusatory stare.

  "Yeah dickhead, I'm coming here tomorrow to spend the day with Janelle's family and celebrate the Fourth," Leo said.

  Shoving Leo back with my shoulder and glaring at him, I said, "We have a Fourth of July picnic on the third every year to get the festivities rolling."

  "That's great, Janelle; that's real great," Briggs said, as he picked up the bag of trash off the ground, shoved past Leo, and began walking toward the trashcan again. Stopping, but not turning around to look at me, he asked, "You didn't think that maybe I'd want to come
hang out with your family, too?"

  "Janelle had nothing to do with it," Leo answered, before I could say anything. "Joz mentioned it the other day to me when we were all at the pool house after the reporters left and all that crap, so don't get all pissed off at her," Leo replied, trying to get me off the hook.

  Slowly, Briggs turned around with shocked anger written all over his face. "Joz? You call Janelle's sister 'Joz' now. Well Cling, looks like you're making yourself right at home, aren't ya?" Briggs threw the bag in the can and started toward his car.

  "Briggs!!" I yelled, running after him "Wait! Wait a second."

  Leo grabbed my arm, "Let him go; he's a big boy."

  "No…I'm not gonna treat him this way. And you...since when do you act like this?" I asked, not waiting for his answer.

  I caught up with Briggs and stepped in front of him before he got into his car. "You are not leaving like this," I said, placing my hands on his chest to stop him from going any further. He wouldn't make eye contact with me. "Look at me," I commanded. Briggs looked around for a second, then finally stopped and looked me in the eye.

  "What?" he said, acting like an admonished adolescent.

  "I had a wonderful day with you, Briggs," I explained. He shrugged and looked away. "I wouldn't change one thing about anything we did or anything we talked about. But most importantly, I wouldn't change who I spent my day with."

  Finally, he looked at me, and grinned. His grin wasn't the cocksure bombastic smirk that I was used to, but more of an insecure, grateful smile. Shaking his head, he said, "Janelle, don't you get it?"

  "Get what?" I asked, really not certain of where this was going.

  "I know how this all turns out. I've seen this game played a thousand times before," he said.