<a class="postlink" href="http://www.bellazon.com/main/uploads/monthly_05_2008/post-21039-1211047525.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/>Name: Matthew Grey<br/>Age: 29 going 30<br/>Height: 6''4<br/>Social Status: Teacher/Werewolf/Reclusive cowboy<br/><br/>To suggest that Matthew Grey wasn’t delighted with the predicament he currently founds himself in would be, to put it mildly, one hell of an understatement. He was a teacher last he had checked. But now they were whoring him out as some kind of glorified tour guide. Principle Wood had been adamant that it was only fair, he was still the new guy but Matthew wasn’t positive he believed a word out of the man’s mouth. Still, he kept his mouth shut and bit his tongue to prevent himself from speaking his mind. An alpha knew which battles to pick and which to leave well enough alone. Besides it was only for a couple of days just to get the little darling settled.<br/>Matthew ran a hand through his thick blonde locks and his blue eyes darted once more toward the office door. She was late. Unacceptable. The minutes ticked by and while he waited he was forced to make small talk with Principal Wood.<br/><br/>Twenty minutes late. Who exactly did this kid think she was?<br/><br/>Just then he heard the squeak and slap of rubber soles headed down the corridor. Matthew held his breath, blue eyes darting to the door once more and he summoned up his most welcoming smile as the doorknob turned and the door slowly opened.<br/>It hit him out of nowhere and his smile fell away. Holy crap. He stared. Blatantly. In the distance he was aware of the Principal talking, droning more so, but for the life of him he didn’t pick up a word. He had been working at this school for almost a year now and never had he taken a second look at a student. But this girl…<br/><br/>He snapped his mouth shut with a scowl. “Ever heard that it’s rude to keep people waiting, miss Weathers?”<br/><br/>Oh, shit. He had spoken out of turn and by the glare Wood shot him he was clearly going to hear about it later. Damn. He hadn’t intended to say that but once he’d opened his mouth the words just sort of spilled out and now he was stuck with them. Truth was, the second she’d cracked opened that door and taken her first step inside miss Abigail Weathers had him thrown. Her scent was everywhere and he needed it not to be. He also needed not to notice how tiny she was or how lush and thick her hair looked. It looked, for the record, as though it smelled amazing.<br/><br/>God damn it. He was a twenty-nine year old teacher. This was<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>okay.<br/><br/>“Miss Weathers,” he murmured, walking towards her and taking her absolutely, ridiculously small hand in his own. “I apologise. Welcome. My name is Matthew Grey, I’ll be showing you around the school today, helping you to get settled in.” And whatever else you need, he added silently, his blue eyes fixed on her face. Up close she was even more appetising.<span style="font-style: italic">Steady, Grey</span>.