Part 1 (2/2)
”Sucks, doesn't it? You blew your top while you were being recorded.”
”Austin, Finley is not the one who screwed up. You are.” Coach's voice held a note of warning.
He held up his hands in surrender even as irritation filled his veins. ”I'm only pointing out that s.h.i.+t happens. Until everyone and their brother stops carrying around phones, no one is safe to let off steam. But I'll play the game until I'm given permission to come back.”
With that, he grabbed his jacket and left the conference room.
Harper Bell sat in a small rocking chair at the front of her cla.s.sroom, her fingers firmly pressed against the front and spine of the book she was reading to her second grade cla.s.s.
It was almost the end of the school day and, like always, the student of the day picked out the book to be read. Usually, that boy or girl would read for her, but some days, especially when it was a rainy afternoon, they liked for her to take over.
They sat crisscross-applesauce style on the carpet, their upturned faces filled with eager eyes and sweet smiles. This age still loved school. They still loved to learn, help, and do as she asked.
Just as Harper turned the page, the cla.s.sroom door opened. Reggie Phelps, Jessamine Elementary School's princ.i.p.al, stuck his head inside.
”May I speak with you a moment, Ms. Bell?” he asked.
Harper nodded, and then motioned for Jacie Mae to take her place. ”I'll be right outside this door,” she said, rising to her feet and moving to the hallway. Anxiety filled her. Reggie never came by unannounced this late in the day.
”Is there something wrong?” As she worried her bottom lip, she waited for him to deliver the bad news.
Reggie smiled. ”Not at all. I need your help. Well, to be exact, this gentleman behind me would like to volunteer at Jessamine Elementary, and I thought your cla.s.sroom would be perfect.”
She glanced at the man standing behind him. A thrill of something zinged through her. Maybe recognition. The stranger certainly looked familiar with his broad shoulders, dark hair, and blue eyes.
He extended his hand. ”Hi, I'm Austin Lawson.”
”Oh!” She smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand and then shook his. ”That's why you look like someone I know. You're a Lawson. Except for Tristan, Mason, and Preston, y'all all favor each other.”
His head tilted to one side, giving him a rakish appearance. Lord, the man was handsome. ”You only know me by my last name?”
Confused, her gaze bounced from Austin to Reggie, and then back to Austin. ”How else should I know you?”
A charming smile pushed up his lips in the corners as he slowly shook his head. ”No other way.”
Reggie cleared his throat. ”In any case, Austin will be coming on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help out in the cla.s.sroom.”
”Oh, do you have kids who go here?”
His smile grew wider. ”Not yet.”
She blushed, which was downright silly because she'd just met him. ”Of course not, because if you did, you'd volunteer in their cla.s.sroom and not mine.”
Calm down, Harper. He's only a man.
He certainly is a man. A s.e.xy man. A man- ”This is why I knew she would be perfect to supervise. Harper has no idea who you are,” Reggie told him.
”But I do know him. He's a Lawson.”
”He's also the star quarterback for the Charlotte Avengers.” Reggie smiled again, opening the cla.s.sroom door. ”I'll take care of your students while you and Austin chat about what your expectations are. You can use my office for as long as you like.”
Harper didn't know a lot about sports, but what she did know-men like Austin didn't volunteer unless they'd done something wrong. Or had a camera crew following them around.
Craning her head around, she searched the hallway. There wasn't anything there except Mr. Huggins, the school janitor. He certainly wasn't with the press.
She frowned.
”If you'd like for me to find another teacher to work with, I will,” he said, his voice rumbling from his chest.
”No, it's not that. It's... uh...” she said, hedging a little. ”Most men in your position don't volunteer at schools unless they've done something really bad.”
He leaned into her a little, but instead of feeling intimidated by his size, she felt... desire. ”I promise I haven't committed any crimes. Otherwise, Mr. Phelps wouldn't have let me in the front. I had to go through a background check like everyone else.”
Well, that made her feel marginally better. It also made her feel a bit foolish. ”Right. Sorry.” She indicated that they should start walking.
”Don't be. You should be protective of your school. It's a good position to play.” He walked with her down the hallway, obviously keeping his stride short so she wouldn't end up running after him.
She appreciated the consideration. ”What position do you play again?”
”Quarterback.”
Her cla.s.sroom was near the office, so it took them no time at all to walk the distance between the two rooms.
”That's the guy who throws the ball after saying hut, right?” she asked, opening the door to the main office. Ugh. That sounded so wrong and trivial, but she didn't know all that much about sports. Hopefully, she hadn't insulted him. ”I'm sure there's more to it than that, but-”
”You summed it up pretty good.” He grabbed the door near the top with his free hand. ”Ladies first.”
A man holding the door open for a lady was commonplace in Jessamine, but a famous quarterback holding open her door-not so much. Plus, he hadn't taken her description wrong and he hadn't made her feel bad about it either.
”Thank you.” The heat of him touched her as she scooted past. Acutely aware of all the eyes of parents waiting to check out their kids, Harper smiled brightly and made her way to Reggie's office.
”It must be hard having everyone stare at you,” she said, closing the door behind him.
”Price of willingly being in the public eye,” he said.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. His eyes followed the movement before returning to her face and lingering on her mouth.
”We have to be here at 7:45, but the school day starts at eight, sharp,” she said, nervously licking her top lip. ”School's over at 2:45. You don't have to stay later than that since you're a volunteer.”
”Not a problem.”
”What kind of experience do you have?” she asked, earning a raised eyebrow from him. ”With kids, I mean.”
<script>