Its always been you, p.1
It's Always Been You, page 1
part #1 of Teach Me Series
Copyright © 2024 by Harper Michaels
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
Dedication
Chapter
Prologue
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Bonus Epilogue
The Story of Us
Acknowledgements
About the author
Other Works
This story is dedicated to all the other authors who have provided their oh so useful advice to me. Thanks for inspiring me to dream that I can do what you do and giving me encouragement. The community of writers is a mighty one.
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen
Prologue
Ally
The day my childhood ended he was there to save me. -Ally
I hate wearing black. It’s not a good color on me. My mom said something once about black being slimming on women, but for me it seems the opposite. It’s supposed to hide all the flaws, but the material of this black dress clings to all the places I would rather hide. My blossoming body is readily apparent, as are the unwelcome folds of my chubby stomach. I hate this dress. I hate my fat. Right now, I hate just about everything including the well-meaning relatives that have taken over my house.
I tuck my knees into my chest and fold the offensive dress around me.
Besides, black wasn’t daddy’s favorite color. He loved red. He loved to see me in red. Said it was bright and chipper, just like his Ally cat. He would boom in that loud voice of his, “There’s my Ally cat, all prettied up in red. That’s your color, sweetheart. You were born to stand out.” Who will say that to me now? Not my mother, I fear. She prefers that I stay hidden in corners as if having an overweight daughter is an offense to her every sense.
One tear slips down my cheek, and then another. Soon, a cascade of them begin to cover the material of the dress.
“Ally, you up here? Ally?”
I stiffen at the sound of my older neighbor’s voice. A second later, the bottom hatch of the treehouse is pushed open, and a headful of dark hair appears.
Jax. Sigh. It would be Jax that found me.
“I’m right here, Jax,” I murmur.
His head turns in my direction, and he lifts himself nimbly through the opening. I fold my knees closer to my chest and nibble on my bottom lip. I wipe hastily at the tears running down my cheeks.
I wish that Jax hadn’t been the one to find me, to see me like this. To see me at my lowest point.
At fourteen, I’m just beginning to understand how attractive my best friend’s older brother is. At twenty-one, he barely acknowledges my existence, but oh how I love it when he does. When he comes home from college with his new wisdom plain on his handsome face and tousles my hair or waves at me across our mutual driveway, my stomach flips and I feel suddenly shy.
His full lips straighten into a frown at the sight of me. “Princess Ally,” he says softly.
He’s always called me Princess Ally. Even my dad liked to call me by my nickname Ally cat, but Jax is the only one who calls me princess. He once told me that my red hair reminded him of a princess he saw in a movie and ever since then I’ve been Princess Ally to him.
I wipe at my cheeks again. “I’m fine, Jax. Completely fine. You should go join everyone else.” My voice breaks at the end, belying my words.
He crawls over to me and puts an arm around me. I feel those inconvenient flutters in my heart again, and I sigh. I can’t seem to stop myself from folding into him.
He rubs my back gently. “I’m so sorry, princess. So damn sorry.”
Jax is older than I am by far and mature in a way I feel like I never will be. He’s always been the more responsible Tillman brother. Sam and I are rowdy and playful, but never Jax. He’s always so serious.
During this time, after losing my dad, it’s his seriousness I need. I need someone to be quiet with. I escaped all the people in my house milling around with their sympathetic eyes and meaningful condolences. I don’t need them. I just need this. Someone to sit with. I settle into the blanket of his steadiness and let it console me.
“Thank you, Jax,” I say softly.
I don’t try to stifle my tears after that. I let them fall and Jax never says a word. He merely holds me and lets me cry.
No words are said between us, but that’s the day I fall in love with my best friend’s brother. There in the silence, on the worst day of my life. That’s the day I pledge to always love Jax Tillman.
Chapter One
Ally
Awkward Ally, that’s my name, and I’m living it up to it every day. -Ally
Butterflies have camped out in my belly. Like a whole roost or swarm, or whatever it is that you call a bunch of butterflies. They’ve decided to lodge themselves there as I walk across campus to my Creative Writing class. I feel slightly sick, but I suspect throwing up in the bushes on the busy quad won’t endear me to anyone, so I tap it down.
I don’t know why I’m nervous. This is just another class. I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts and snort. Because it’s The Class, in all caps. I’ve been dying to take Creative Writing since I started here at Crestwood, especially since the English department is headed up by a world-famous author. Dr. Helen Kent is a New York Times bestselling author who wrote a series of chick-lit books that became a worldwide sensation and even inspired a set of movies on Netflix. Her female characters are strong and sassy, yet vulnerable and empathetic. Her heroines are all curvy and rarely conform to society norms, like me. Needless to say, Helen Kent is my shero and I admire the hell out of her. I still can’t believe I get to meet her, much less take her class. I once waited in line for four hours to get her to sign a book of mine, only to have the bookstore close just as I was getting within its doors.
I take a deep breath and stop on the sidewalk. That sick feeling in my stomach persists. My mom would freak out if she knew I was even thinking about taking this class. She calls my stories “silly made-up fairy tales” and encouraged me to major in business and accounting. My Uncle Stanley, her brother, has an office that’s just waiting to be occupied by none other than yours truly.
I take in deep gulps of air and begin an avid interest in the sidewalk beneath my feet, tracing the crack up the pathway with my gaze like it has answers to life’s questions lying beneath it. I clench my fists. I don’t want to be an accountant. I close my eyes, picturing my probable future of looking at numbers all day. My mom is always encouraging me to do the practical thing. If you can’t be beautiful, be smart. Those have been her words to me for years. Sometimes, she looks at me with such pity plain on her former beauty queen face. She isn’t a bad person, but the vanity that she exhibits still makes me shake my head.
I think wistfully of what my father would say if he were here. He would tell me to leap into the abyss, to take a chance on my dreams. He would give me a broad smile and tell me how my ability to tell stories is a gift, not a burden. He would tell me that that it’s okay to get caught up in these imaginary lands in my head.
I shake my head. That churning feeling in my gut stirs again. He isn’t here though. He isn’t here and he left us with very little money to dream with. I’ve got the weight of family and financial pressures on my shoulders. My only chance to get some of these stories out is this class. Maybe Professor Kent will tell me I have talent. Maybe she will see value in these stories of mine.
I roll my shoulders, feeling the heavy weight of my backpack and trying to steady myself. Get your shit together, Ally. What my mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
With that steadying thought, I finally take a step forward and then promptly trip over the mesmerizing crack on the sidewalk and go flying.
Chapter Two
Ally
Why is it the one person you’ve been actively avoiding is the first person you run into? Literally. -Ally
“Whoa, I got you, princess.” Strong arms steady my upper arms and I balance my hands against a wall of solid muscle. Shit, whoever this guy is, he’s built like a brickhouse.
“Tha…” my voice is muffled because it’s currently pressed into the muscular guy’s chest, so I pull back and finally look up. Dark brown eyes stare back at me, and I inhale a shaky breath. “Jax.”
“Princess Ally,” he says in an amused voice, “You okay there? You must have been distracted. You really went flying.”
Jax Tillman. The one and only. My hugest crush, childhood neighbor, and the totally unattainable Dr. Jax Tillman. Some part of me registers that I’m still holding onto the front of Jax’s dress shirt, and I let go. “Sorry ‘bout that. Thanks for rescuing me. I was daydreaming, I guess.”
Jax’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he gazes down at me. Then he does that sexy guy thing where he
God, this guy. Jax has always been good-looking, but I swear he’s gotten taller, and his muscles have muscles. His dark, curly hair is a little wild as always. He’s dressed in dark pants and a white dress shirt that emphasizes his dark skin. I want to lick him from head to toe and stop along the way to take extra time at the good parts.
I blush bright red. “Y…yeah, uh, I’m on my way to class.” I nod towards the large English building. “Going in there, actually. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.” Please, please have somewhere else to be.
“Well, since I teach literature, I’m actually headed that way too. And I’ve got a few minutes,” he drawls. He holds out an arm. “Want me to escort you? I’ll be happy to carry your backpack too. Wouldn’t want you knocking anyone out with that heavy thing.”
I giggle and blink up at him. I swear with the sun behind him, it almost looks like he has a golden halo. He should. His brother and I were always getting into trouble, but not Jax. I remember listening to Ms. Tillman go on and on about how she always worried about Sam, but never Jax. Jax is as steady as they come. She never needed to worry that he would run off and join the circus, unlike my best friend. Sam was always running headlong into adventure with very little thought to the consequences. That’s one thing I love about him, but also the thing that got me into the most pickles when we were younger. Now, I’ve learned to say no to his crazy schemes. Well, most of the time.
I try not to get too excited as I hand him my heavy backpack and then place my arm in his. The feeling of holding onto him makes me tingle in all the right places. Shit. Jax is strictly off limits. Not that he notices me anyway, but he’s totally in the look, don’t touch category. Hence, why I’ve done my absolute darnest to avoid him like the plague since I started at Crestwood, where he teaches and I’m currently attending. My crush, the dependable Jax, of course had to go into academia in the one subject I dreamed of studying.
Jax was the one who first curated my love of reading. When we were much younger, he would read to me from some of the adventure books he often carried around. I would listen avidly while he used all different voices for the characters and made them come alive. Sam would merely roll his eyes and sigh until I would finally agree to go outside with him. It’s not surprising then that Jax went to school to study the words of the greats.
I’ve been here two years, and other than the occasional nod across campus, I’ve done well avoiding him until now. It helps that all my classes are in the business school way across campus.
“So, I haven’t seen you lately. What have you been up to?” he asks in a deep, raspy voice that never fails to give me goosebumps.
I shrug. “Oh, you know, this and that.”
He lets go of my arm to open the heavy wooden door to the building. I slip by him, hoping we’ll be able to part ways soon before I somehow manage to make a fool of myself.
“That sounds very…vague,” he says drily and does that sexy smirk thing again. “Care to expound?”
“Oh, you know, busy with classes and hanging out with Sam. The usual,” I mumble.
His smirk fades. “Of course. The usual,” he mutters, and a hard frown appears on his face.
We finally come to a crossroads. The auditorium for Creative Writing is on my right. “Oh well, thanks for the walk. I have to go to class,” I say and gesture towards my classroom.
He pales and points at the auditorium door. “You’re taking Creative Writing?”
“W…well, I just wanted to take something besides accounting for fun, and I thought, well yeah, you know maybe it would be fun.” Shit. I want to smack myself in the forehead. I’m so freakin’ articulate. What a wonderful writer I will be.
“Um, you’re supposed to have Dr. Kent, right?” he asks. He looks upset about something, and I cock my head, eyeing him curiously.
“Yep, I’m kind of excited about it.” That doesn’t begin to cover it. “I’m slightly obsessed with her, to be honest. I love all of her books.”
He shoves his hands in his pants pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, Ally, but Dr. Kent decided to take the semester off to travel.” His mouth quirks up into a half smile. “She decided that it was time for her to see the sights in Europe. Mentioned having an Eat, Pray, Love moment because of her divorce. I didn’t ask a lot of questions, honestly, but she won’t be here.”
My stomach drops. “Well, that sucks.” That’s putting it mildly. “I was really looking forward to having her as a professor. Who do you think will be teaching the class then?” I chew on my bottom lip and cast a worried look in the direction of the class. This is just my luck. This truly, truly sucks.
Jax glances down at his polished shoes and then back up at me. “Actually, your professor is, um, me,” he says awkwardly.
Well, crap on a cracker, this isn’t good.
Chapter Three
Jax
I never thought I would be trying to hide a hard-on in my classroom, but well, it’s Her. She makes me do crazy things. -Jax
I think I have an arrhythmia. My heart is beating out of my chest and my hands are shaking. I clear my throat and gently tug my collar away from my neck, hoping to gain some air. I shake my head to clear it. Normally, most people would be scared and running to the doctor at this severe reaction. Not me. I’m familiar with this feeling. I know it’s just being in the vicinity of Her.
I can’t help but think of what my brother Sam would say if he knew how unraveled I am right now. He’s always accusing me of being too stuffy and unbothered. But right now, I’m rattled and antsy. And it’s all because his best friend is nearby. His hot, off-limits, much younger than me best friend. God, this is inconvenient.
I rub the back of my neck and glance up from my desk to scan the auditorium quickly becoming packed with students. Ally stands out like she always does with her bright red hair and panicked expression. She’s twisting her hands nervously and glancing around like a scared animal. When her vision settles on me, her gaze softens, and she sits back in her seat. I send her a mental I’ve got you and smile faintly at her.
My smile fades. Ally Marshall is my student. How the hell did that happen?
I block out the noise of incoming students and focus on her. Hell, anytime she’s in a room, my focus is always on her. Has been for the last two years.
I never expected to want the girl I grew up with. It wasn’t a gradual thing. All it took was one look out my mother’s kitchen window and I was hit by a thunderbolt of lust. Ally was simply laying out in her bikini on her mother’s patio, probably oblivious of the view she presented.
I remember the clattering of the glass in my hands as my soapy hands and brain had a sudden disconnect. She was beautiful. More beautiful than I could put into words, and I had spent most of my life searching for the right ones for every occasion. Her small, curvy body, voluptuous and desirable in every way, laid out for me to see. The spell was broken when my brother started spraying her with a water hose.
My brother. The one person that kept me from what I most wanted in the world. Ally Marshall.
However, I never thought my two worlds would collide. My professional career and the only woman I’ve ever been truly interested in. My cock stirs when she flips her hair over her shoulder and then crosses her long, pale legs. She’s wearing shorts that aren’t especially short, but I can imagine running my hand up one of her long legs, between her thighs, to the…shit, stop fantasizing, you old pervert.
I’m a professor with a crush on a student. How cliché. And not a situation I expected to find myself in, at all. Not to mention the way it would destroy Sam if he knew how I felt. He once told me that Ally is his favorite person in the world and that he would do anything for her.
It was two years ago, not long after I discovered my own crush on her.
I remember the moment very well because it was one of the few times I had seen my brother be that serious. Ever since we were little, he had been the fun one. The one who could and did try to get away with anything. I envied him because he always jumped first without thinking. I was a thinker. Too much of one sometimes.
