“No.”
“His idea wasn't entirely unreasonable.”
I stare at her.
Betrayed.
Absolutely betrayed.
“Sister Agnes.”
“Yes?”
“You cannot honestly be suggesting I pretend to date that bodyguard.”
“I'm suggesting that fake dating the bodyguard and putting a spin on that unfortunate incident would be good publicity.”
“Seriously? Are nuns supposed to advocate pretend-dating a bodyguard?”
“People enjoy romance, dear. And alumni and church members would understand it a little better—maybe even forgive such a brash, jealous reaction from such a handsome young lover.”
Sister Agnes places her hand over her mouth and giggles.
The woman is old enough to be my grandmother, and she’s a nun—but apparently, she is still a woman.
And Kai Montego is truly something to behold. Even I can’t deny the man’s physical attributes.
Muscles for days.
Tattoos swirling across his six foot four frame.
That devilish grin.
I close my eyes.
This cannot be my life.
When I became a teacher, I had certain expectations.
Lesson plans.
Parent conferences.
Book fairs.
Field trips.
Nowhere in my education courses did anyone mention fake relationships with absurdly attractive security professionals.
It's irresponsible.
That's what it is.
Irresponsible.
“He's not even my type.”
The second the words leave my mouth I know I've made a mistake.