Hot for Teacher Ch4

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Jane & Soren attend a work conference. Will they admit their feelings for each other? Will someone else find out?

 

The drive.

Soren offers to drive out of London and asked Jane if she felt like driving. The idea of Jane driving his car was very sexy.

Bruno Mars's Locked out of Heaven was on the radio. How fitting, Soren thought.

‘It’s only 3 hours,’ Jane pointed out.
‘Stop. Revive. Survive.’ Soren quoted the road safety add with the deep-voiced announcer. He gives Jane a quizzical look as he waits for an opening in the traffic.
‘We’ll see how we go.’ Is that flirting? Soren wonders as they pull onto the road.
For a few minutes Jane checks her messages in silence – apart from the soft radio – and Soren is beginning to think he has done something wrong just as she drops it into her handbag on the floor.
‘Were you born here?’ Jane enquired.
‘I was born in Denmark and we arrived here when I was 6.’

‘So do you speak Danish?’
‘Hej smukke.’ He told her, smiling. ‘Yes, but my vocab is not very large. A native speaker would spot me instantly.’
‘What’s Teacher in Danish?’
‘Lærer.’ He answered, watching the road.


‘Did Col Benson speak to you?’ If there was something that would come between them it would be her self-righteousness or pressure from a faculty member or Lara. And seeing as it wasn’t Lara – who encouraged both of them, Soren was not looking forward to reprimands and warnings from the Vice-Principal. Had he kept what he’d seen in the staff room to himself?
‘Yes,’ Jane’s tone was serious with a hint of nervousness. ‘Soren, you can’t tell anyone about us. You haven’t, have you?’

‘No,’ he swears. ‘But I have been so tempted.’
‘You can’t. Not even Mick.’ She presses him.
‘We can’t be seen in public together. We can’t,’ she reinforces and Soren nods – his eyes still on the road.
‘We could both be in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out.’
I could get you in a lot of trouble, you mean. But he didn’t argue.
‘He said he was a young man once and you only think about one thing,’ she said gravely. She thought of the passion which overcame them in Soren’s house. Him without a shirt… his hands touching her…
‘That’s not true.’ He shook his head and glanced from the road to her. He wanted to tell her he respected her and was happy to wait and that he wouldn’t cross any lines… to reassure her… but the words didn’t seem right in his head. Jane did not seem exactly happy with his response. She changed the radio station and stared out the window.

The cabin is completely black apart from the faint dashboard markings. There is almost no point in glancing over to her as they talk because she is encased in darkness. With the exception of the rare oncoming traffic now that they are speeding along the motor way. Despite Soren’s attempts to lighten the mood, their interaction remained arduous since discussing Col Benson’s words.
With just over a predicted hour to go, Soren suggests a pit stop to stretch their legs. They pull up outside a small park with a bridge over a man-made creek that’s lit up with soft overhead and knee-height lamps. The ground is littered with fallen red and yellow leaves.

He’s tempted to kiss her as soon as the car is stopped and his seatbelt is off but her body language was stiff and he was discouraged.
They use the respective amenities and Soren walks the length of the park and surveys the cricket cages. Soren follows her back to the car. He was feeling nervous with anticipation, the good kind of nervous. He wondered if she was feeling it to.

‘Do you have any water?’ Jane asks him.

‘I should have a bottle.’ He opens the boot and searches his bag before handing her a small clear bottle.
Soren holds out his keys, his eyes engaging, a playful smile on his lips.
She takes them and walks around to the driver’s side.
Jane fastens her seatbelt and adjusts the seat in a little closer. ‘You’re legs are longer than mine.’
She checks the mirrors and then signals to pull out. Her hands run over the wheel expertly as her foot hits the pedal. ‘I’m glad it’s not a manual,’ she tells him. ‘So many guys feel the need to drive a manual. Why buy old technology?’

He very much enjoys watching her drive his car and the hour passes too quickly.
They arrive at Cardiff’s Conference Centre late Friday night. They’re greeted by the office team who hand them a program, map and key. Soren assists Jane with her bag and they find their respective rooms: Jane with Sally and Soren with Mick. In different wings.
Soren doesn’t know if Jane has told Sally about them so he waves a friendly ‘Goodnight’ and departs without familiarity.

Soren waits quietly with a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal alongside Mick, surveying the room and the view beyond as the attendees emerge for breakfast. As usual, Jane is surrounded by friends, older faculty amongst them, and Soren keeps his distance, pining for her.


The conference kicks into full swing and – as Soren concedes that his company won’t be sought in public - they sit apart in the main sessions and attend different elective streams. He tries not to feel sorry for himself and throws himself into the Ministry material, even finding some of it stimulating.
He pens a note to Jane on a slip of paper, and folds it in 4.
At 1pm, Jane’s group is released after Soren’s who has already begun tucking into the pasta. He wished she would join him, sit across from him, they could chat about the streams they just attended, innocently, as if they were friends.
His hope was in vain. She took a seat at the far end of the room, chatting and laughing with Sally.
As a few of them get up to leave and form a queue to deposit their cups and glasses, Soren steps in behind Jane and slips the note into her jacket pocket before falling back into conversation with Harry. She doesn’t turn around.
It was not as if Soren had told Harry bluntly he was seeing Miss Prescott. He guessed. They went out to the lawn to pass the soccer ball around.
‘I think I love her. I can’t stop thinking about her. Call me crazy, but she’s the one for me.’
‘Maybe it’s just a crush?’ Harry scratched his eyebrow as he looked at Soren like a lost fool.
‘It feels too powerful,’ Soren disputed.
‘Some things are more precious because they don’t last.’ They went back to kicking the ball long and deep as 2 more guys came down from the hall to play.
 
Don’t be timid,’ Soren’s grandfather had told him when he was an adolescent on holidays in the country. ‘Girls go crazy for a sharp-dressed, confident man.’ Those words, 17 years old, had stayed with him, since he had discussed asking a girl out with his grandfather.

It’s not until 3pm that Jane absently reaches into her pocket and discovers the note. It reads. ‘I need to see you. Meet me outside, under the map of Europe when the band finishes tonight.’ Jane smiles and puts the note away. It made her feel desired and significant. He really had a hold on her, she was coming to realise. There is no way she thought she would be sneaking around seeing a young man where they would be alone –which was ill-advised in ministry circles, 6 months ago.

In the afternoon break, the band is rehearsing the evening’s entertainment. Soren recognises his friend who’s on lead guitar. Jane and Sally have collected a cuppa from the kitchen and are making their way back to the lounge room when Jane sees Soren talking with the band. Jane waits for Soren who soon comes over to her.
‘Hi.’

‘Hi. What was that about?’ Jane asks.

‘That’s Ben Drysdale on lead-guitar, we have a mutual friend and played a couple of times last year. The sax player just phoned in sick. He asked me to join them, I’m going to get my trumpet.’ He grinned and headed for the carpark.

 

Following dinner, chairs were set up in the hall again and most people sat or stood around, enjoying the blues/jazz/electronic sounds of the band.  Ben (on lead-guitar) announced the members of the band.
‘On the drums we have my friend Paul ‘Bevo’ Beveridge who needs no introduction. You might have heard him on the radio with JupiterRising. On the guitar and vocals we have Dan Beaton, who is also a ring-in tonight. And on the trumpet, the kid from Denmark but we are claiming him as one of our own, Soren Nyborg!’ a few cheers ring out. Jane can’t help smiling as Soren toots his trumpet in response. They are a talented band, even taking requests until they reach the end of their set at about 10.30pm – because there are more lectures in the morning.

 

Would you please PLEASE give me a quick comment at all? I'm really sad cos i have none. :-(


Submitted: May 28, 2013

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