He finished reading the last story to the class and looked up at her for direction. He wasn’t sure if he should go back to telling soccer stories, pass out tickets, or leave. He didn’t want to leave.
Em looked up at the clock on the wall before she walked over next to Grant. His heart raced as she got closer. Unaware of her effect on him, Em addressed her students. “We’ve got about five minutes until lunch. Grab your lunch box if you have one, and we’ll line up and go down to the cafeteria a little early.”
The sound of talking and chairs scraping the floor soon filled the silence. Grant smiled and leaned over toward Em. “Breaking the rules in front of all these impressionable children. How do you sleep at night?”
Don’t think about that, Grant.
“I’m the teacher, I make the rules.” She winked playfully in his direction.
He leaned over and picked up his bag. “Should I leave the tickets on your desk?”
“Oh, right.” She reached out and took them from him. Her fingers brushed up against his, causing his heart to beat faster.
Leaning against his crutch, he hitched his thumb at the door where the kids were lined up and waiting for their teacher. “Well, I guess I’d better get going.”
Em bit her bottom lip. Too soft for her students to hear, she said, “If you’re hungry, you can stay and eat with the class.”
He would have loved that, but there was a small problem. “I didn’t bring any cash, and I have a feeling the lunch ladies don’t accept American Express.”
She smiled. “I have enough money in my account that I can treat you to a four-dollar meal. Hope you like corn dogs and baked fries.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were asking me on a lunch date.”
Of course, he did know better. Em didn’t date players—a fact she made abundantly clear every time they talked.
“I wouldn’t consider corn dogs anything special. Trust me, if we ever went on a real date, you’d know it.”
Grant laughed at the way she stole the words he’d used about arena pizza. “I’d be happy to stay for this non-date lunch.”
Em smiled at him once more before telling the line leader to start walking toward the cafeteria. Her students were quiet and orderly as they walked down the halls. Was she the kind of teacher who ruled with an iron fist? Grant didn’t think so; she was too playful, too sweet.
“I usually eat in the teacher’s lounge since we have staff members that monitor lunches, but I think the kids would love it if you ate in the cafeteria.”
“Will you be in there?”
“Or course. I wouldn’t just throw you to the wolves like that.”
“It’s good to know you’ve got my back,” he said, swinging his good foot in front of him for another step. He hated that he still wasn’t completely steady on his crutches and hoped Em didn’t notice.
“Don’t get too excited, it gets really loud in there.”
“And Storm games don’t?”
“Good point.”
Grant kept stealing glances at Em as they walked toward the cafeteria. How was it possible that she kept getting more beautiful every time he saw her? He debated telling her that as the students filed through the doors before them but lost his chance when another adult joined them.
It was Frida, and she had a sly smile on her face. Her voice had a sing-song quality to it as she greeted them. “How’s it going?”
A blush creeped up Em’s neck.
Interesting.
“Just fine. Why aren’t you in the teacher’s lounge, Ms. Hall?” she said through clenched teeth.
“Oh? So, I’m Ms. Hall now?”
“You’re right, you’re acting childish, so I definitely shouldn’t call you that.”
Frida stuck her tongue out and earned an eye roll from Em.
Grant couldn’t help but laugh at their interaction. It reminded him so much of his relationship with his sister.
“You are not allowed to laugh, Mr. Vaughn.”
Grant wiggled his eyebrows at Frida. “Looks like I still get to keep my grownup title.”
Em glared at him, though the twitch of her mouth softened it. “You know what? Just for that, I should let Frida babysit you and go enjoy a quiet lunch in the teachers’ lounge—by myself.”
“No,” Grant and Frida said in unison.
Em’s eyes went back and forth between them. “Now I’m thinking I definitely need to go do that.”
Frida put her arm over Em’s shoulders. “If anyone is going to the teachers’ lounge, it’s me. I’m just not cut out for the lunchroom. But enjoy your yummy lunch for me.”
Grant’s pulse picked up at the look shared between the two women. When Em’s blush returned, the warm rush of victory flooded into him: he was the yummy.
Even though Frida had to know all about Em’s no-dating-players rule, he couldn’t help but enjoy knowing that he could get Em all flustered. It was only fair since she had the same effect on him.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Frida said with a small wave over her shoulder and left.
Once she was gone, the line seemed to move impossibly slower, and without Frida as a buffer between them, Grant was suddenly unsure of how to act with Em.
“I want to thank you again for stopping that ball.”
Grant released a breath, thankful she’d broken the awkward silence between them. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m glad you got to look like a hero in front of the kids today.” She grabbed both their trays. “But I hate that you might have made your ankle worse.”
“I’m out for the next few games, regardless. I told you, I was happy to do it.”
“Well, thank you...again.”
“You’re welcome...again.” His smile was teasing, but the one she returned was full of warmth that spread through his body.
When they’d made it through the line, Grant followed Em to a table. He knew they were eating in the cafeteria to spend time with the kids, but he was still surprised when Em plopped
