It was refreshing to know that I wasn't the only one affected by our encounters. At the same time, it was exhaustingly frustrating that I couldn't do anything about it, or make the feeling go away.

"I need to speak to you," I whispered to her, moving away from her desk before she even had the time to realize what I’d said. Looking back, she seemed flustered, and her cheeks were red as she looked around the room, probably hoping no one was aware of what was going on. The only other person who did know was Ruiz, and I also had to make sure that she kept her fucking mouth shut.

I made my way back over to Jensen and let him know that I’d told Bennett I needed to speak to her, and that I would need to speak with Ruiz as well. He offered to handle Ruiz, stating that I probably didn't want to handle both of them and rouse suspicion. I agreed, not really caring because all I wanted to do was speak to Bennett and shut this shit down.

Before long, it was time for lunch. The morning had seemingly flown by, and I was somehow able to contain my sporadic erections whenever I looked over at Bennett, but the frustration that had my body locked up like a stiff board was making me uncomfortable.

"Attention!" I called out, prompting the students to stand. "You are to return to the classroom for a thirteen hundred formation. You are dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the room, and while it seemed Bennett lingered a bit, I tried hard not to look at her, instead focusing on the guys who were discussing lunch plans.

"I'm headed off to Subway. You guys want anything?" Newsome asked.

"No, I'm good. I'm going to the gym," I replied, feeling the need to burn the tension away. It was now noon, and given that I had allotted an hour for lunch, I felt I could do some damage with that amount of time.

"I'll go with you, man. You sure don't want anything Alex?" Jensen asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Bring me back an Italian BLT with loads of onions and peppers. I really need to hit the gym." I gave Jensen a pointed look, and he caught on, understanding why I was anxious about getting away from everyone and everything associated with this schoolhouse. He nodded his head, and the two of them made their way out of the building.

I jogged out to my truck— a black, lifted Dodge Ram—and hopped in, making my way over to the gym and quickly changing before throwing myself down on the flat bench and bench pressing my frustrations away.

I needed a strict game plan on how to handle Bennett, and I needed it quickly. Trying to come up with a way to handle her and keep my focus on my job was becoming more of a task than I wanted it to be. I couldn't form any coherent thoughts; all I saw were her toned legs, and her beautiful ass that rubbed against me, making me harder than a fucking rock. Her long, flowing blonde hair, and that sultry vanilla and fruit flavored smell came back to me in waves, and I yelled out as I finished a rep and placed the bar back on the stand.

"Need a spotter?" a familiar voice asked. I turned to find Castillo standing there. She had a smile on her face that I couldn't reciprocate. I was too wound up, too frustrated, and it showed through my short pants and sweat filled face.

"Not really, but you can spot me if you want."

"You look like you need a drink," she joked, instantly making me freeze.

I looked at her, breathing hard, but not saying a word. Instead, I added another twenty-five pounds to each side of the bar, bringing my grand total to two-hundred and fifty pounds, and laid down, taking the bar from her and trying to lift my frustrations away for the second time.

I lifted furiously, breathing short, hard breaths with every lift. Castillo tried a few times to take the bar after ten reps, but I couldn't stop. The extra weight seemed to be doing the trick, so I kept going, focusing only the bar and staring up at the gym lights that shone down on me.

"Done!" I breathed, holding up the bar for Castillo to take. She took it, placing it back in the holder and handing me a towel.

"What's got you so riled up?"

"Nothing," I said, glancing up to her and finding her unconvinced. "It’s Monday, and I drank too much this weekend. I need to burn it off." I wiped my sweat off with the towel, turning and throwing it into the bin before standing and walking over to the punching bags in the far left corner.

"Friday was crazy. Is Newsome alright? I saw what happened."

I began punching the bag relentlessly, picturing my own face and drilling it harder and harder with each punch, figuratively punishing myself for getting caught up and not being around to protect my brother.

"He's fine," I said through a short breath, landing more and more punches on the bag. "What happened anyway?"

"I don't know how it started, but I saw some guy push him in the back, and he turned and punched him in the face. The guy punched him back, then fists were being thrown everywhere. Smith grabbed Newsome, and Jensen ordered them out of the bar while he went to look for you." She paused for a second. "Where were you anyway?"

I stopped punching and looked at her, breathing hard as sweat beads rolled down my face. "I was nursing a beer and trying not to puke all over that bar," I lied, but it seemed to placate her as she laughed and took her stare off of me.

"Alex Cruz--drunk off his ass--having to nurse a beer. Never thought I would see the day."

"Yeah, well, those days are over. Never again," I said, throwing short, quick, but powerful punches into the bag, releasing the pent up aggression that had manifested itself in me since the morning. "Nothing good comes from that shit, and as it is, Newsome could have gotten into some serious trouble."

"Well, Smith was there with him, so I'm sure you're forgiven."

"I know, but I don't like leaving my brothers like that. I had my celebratory night, so I'm good."

"Suit yourself. I'm off to the treadmill. Care to join me?"

"Naw. I need to shower and get back, lunch is waiting on me."