“How many girls did you sleep with?” I pressed, and he tensed. “Seriously, Alex, I’d rather hear it from you now than later if we get serious,” I added, shrugging.
“I started teaching at your school about three months ago,” he replied. “I only taught seniors, and my nephew was one of them… James.”
“So he’s your nephew?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah, whatever,” he dismissed. “Well, I slept with the secretary a couple of times,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, making me feel a flush of heat.
“Wait, what?” I encouraged him to go on. Alex glanced at me sideways, uncertain.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and I laughed.
“We don’t have a label yet, Alex, other than that you’ve slept with a lot of girls before me, right?” I questioned, and he sighed.
“I also hooked up with some teachers-an art teacher, a physics teacher, and a French teacher, if I remember correctly. And some female students… not many, though.”
“You must be joking,” I blurted, and he looked serious.
“I’m honest with you because I care,” he replied quietly, and I gulped.
I thought about stopping there, but I felt I needed to know more about his past.
He then revealed how he slept with a few seniors before I came into the picture, being clever about it by choosing those who had previously falsely accused teachers of harassment, ensuring no evidence remained if they accused him. It was only when he became a third-grade teacher and counselor that he tried to charm more seniors.
“But there was something about you,” he admitted. “You never fell for my tricks-well, not until I brought you to my place.”
“What tricks?” I asked, confused.
“I was more transparent with you than with anyone,” he laughed. “In all our sessions, I couldn’t help but look at you all the time; I even touched your hands,” he recalled, and I laughed, taken aback.
“I would have never guessed,” I replied, smiling.
“And you think I would ask you sexual questions on paper for no reason?” he said.
“Did you do it just for me?” I questioned, and he chuckled.
“Of course, but I adjusted the questions to bring them to surface without the sexual undertone,” he explained. “And I fell for you hard, and faster than I expected.”
“Who was the easiest?” I asked teasingly.
“There was a red-headed senior who tried seducing me the moment I called her into my office,” he recounted. “She hiked up her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse, telling me how hot she was. That’s when I realized what she wanted,” he said nonchalantly.
“Wow, that’s daring,” I joked, and Alex smiled, I sign slightly confused.
“Do you know who I’m talking about?” he asked, locking eyes with me.
“Lucy Smith,” I replied, and the mention made me uneasy. “But she approached me too late; I was already smitten with you,” he shrugged, and I smiled.
“The day she appeared out of nowhere while you were waiting in the car, she tried to seduce me again; when I told her she was mistaken and that I wasn’t that type of teacher, she burst into tears. It was hard not to laugh,” he shared.
“She’s a piece of work; she claimed to have slept with you… and Professor Winston,” I remarked, and Alex tightened his jaw.
“We’ve arrived,” he said suddenly, and I looked ahead, excitement replacing my earlier concerns.
I had totally forgotten we were headed to the Eiffel Tower, a surge of enthusiasm overwhelming me. I got out of the car as soon as Alex parked, grateful I wore sneakers and leggings for easy movement. Looking back, I caught him recording me with his phone.
“Do you like it, darling?” he teased, and I frowned.
“Are you serious? I could stare at it forever!” I exclaimed, and he laughed at my enthusiasm. “It’s stunning,” I whispered, admiring the iconic structure.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and I beamed at him.
We strolled around the monument, with Alex snapping pictures of me and a few of us together, asking strangers to help take some as well.
After we finished typical tourist activities, we got back in the car and drove off.
“Can I invite you to dinner, Miss Moore?” he asked, resting a hand on my thigh.
“With pleasure, Mr. Grey,” I quipped, and he continued driving until we arrived at a hotel about fifteen minutes later, where I anticipated changing into something more suitable for our dinner.
Upon entering, Alex went over to the receptionist to speak briefly while I waited. He returned to me, and I couldn’t help but ask, “What did you ask her?”
“Nothing important,” he shrugged, taking my hand as we stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button marked with an “R.”
“That’s not our apartment,” I noted, puzzled, and Alex just smiled.
I adjusted my bracelets, and when the elevator doors opened, I was greeted by the sight of an incredibly elegant restaurant. I gulped in awe.
“Wow…”
We moved forward, hand in hand, drawing a few curious glances from passing diners as well as some indifferent stares.
“How can I assist you?” a waiter greeted us.
“I have a reservation under Alexander Grey,” he replied, and I looked on, surprised.
The waiter nodded and consulted a list before guiding us to a glass door. Once opened, it revealed a beautifully decorated space.
Surrounded by flowers, candles, and an incredible view of the illuminated Eiffel Tower in the distance, I could feel the romance in the air. The ambiance was completed by the gentle background music.
“Do you like it?” Alex asked, pulling me closer.
“I love it,” I grinned.
Like a true gentleman, he helped me settle down at the table, and when he sat opposite me, the waiter promptly took our order. Throughout this, I noticed Alex couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“Did you plan all of this?” I inquired, lifting a bouquet from the table, inhaling its fragrance, and letting it rest on my lap. He nodded.
“It’s only the best for my girl,” he said, placing his hand on my knee.
The waiter returned with champagne, followed by our cutlery, bread, and cheese.
“Are you upset about anything I said this afternoon?” he suddenly asked, catching me off guard. I took a bite of cheese before shaking my head.
“You’ve been honest, which is commendable,” I shrugged. “Besides, until we officially define what we have, I have nothing to stress over… Alex, you’re a free man,” I stated, a twinge of pain accompanying my words, to which he chuckled, shaking his head.
Just then, the waiter presented us with our meals: I had vegan Alfredo pasta, and Alex had filet mignon. I was anxious, surprised that the menu didn’t display any prices.
We enjoyed our food while sharing glimpses into our lives, when I remarked, “I didn’t know you spoke French.”
“My father lives here, so when I stayed with him, I’d to learn,” he responded. “Moreover, this is my second-largest company.”
“Wow, how many do you have?” I asked, amused, and he chuckled.
“Hey, before we met… did you do this with other girls? Romantic dinners, trips abroad, constant sex?” I probed playfully, and he lowered his head, smiling.
“I’ve been with many women, that’s true,” he confessed, a hint of pride in his voice. “But I can count the number of girls for whom I’ve done something like this on one hand,” he whispered, looking me in the eyes. “I need you to know that I’m not how I am with you with anyone else. I can be a complete jerk,” he added.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t exaggerate, we all have our flaws, but that doesn’t make you a jerk,” I reassured him, making him smile.
“Nina…” he said gently, and I made an inquisitive sound in response. “Do you really love me?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“A lot, why?” I replied, somewhat uncertainly, and he sighed.
“I can’t spend another day in your company knowing you think we can be with other people,” he confessed, and I frowned, processing his words. “I want you to be entirely mine, because I understand that for someone your age, a label holds significant meaning,” he murmured, pulling something from his pocket, which shocked me.
“What are you doing?” I asked cautiously, my heart racing as he revealed a small box containing a beautiful bracelet.
“Be mine,” he whispered. “Be my girl, my little one, my baby, my princess, my girlfriend… just be completely mine,” he urged. My heart raced as I absorbed his words; hesitating for a few seconds, I finally smiled broadly and nodded.
His face lit up with a full, toothy grin, and I felt a magnetic pull to jump up, run to him, and shower him with kisses. Instead, I stopped, letting him help me put on the stunning bracelet, which he had chosen because it resembled an open heart-a token meant for someone you wish to give your heart to or to open it to.
“Alex…” I whispered, stunned at his thoughtful gesture. He looked back at me with a bright smile, a spark in his eyes reminiscent of a child with candy.
It was that look of adoration reserved for something cherished, and he was looking at me like that. “Why didn’t you tell me to wear something more formal?” I asked, laughing.
“I wanted to see you as your genuine self,” he replied softly, making me smile. “Damn, I’m so in love with you,” he said, leaning in for a kiss that made my heart race.
“Show me what love feels like,” I asked expectantly, and he locked eyes with me for a while before saying, “Make love to me, Alex.”