Page 20 of Closing the Distance

He leans closer, his voice lowering. “I wasn’t sure which flowers were your favorite, so I hope you don’t mind these. I thought of you as soon as I saw them.”

My heart melts a little as I drop my nose to smell the gorgeous pink peonies. “They’re beautiful.”

“Like I said, they reminded me of you.”

I look at him, expecting him to still have a flirty smile on his face to go with that line, but when our gazes lock, all I see is sincerity and something that looks suspiciously like desire. I’m transported back to our night together—the way he looked at me while he thrust inside me and made sure I came before he shuddered with his own release. My breathing grows heavy until it feels like he and I are the only ones that exist in the room.

And then I realize the silence isn’t just in my imagination. I break our stare-off to look over at my students and find twenty-eight sets of eyes watching us with utter fascination and glee. My mouth parts to explain away what just happened, but before I even have a chance, one of the other guys that came with Ty—the one with short, cropped hair and piercing blue eyes—gets everyone’s attention. “Who wants some LA Wolves gear?”

Chaos breaks out, and the intense moment between Ty and me is forgotten—for now. These are middle schoolers; they never forget anything except their homework. Thankfully, Mrs. O’Dell is deep in conversation with one of the other guys, who looks like a big terrifying beast but is giving her the kindest smile. The third guy—whose eyes seem to carry something heavy that looks a lot like the loss I see in my own eyes when I look in the mirror—catches my gaze, quickly glances at Mrs. O’Dell then back to me, and winks.

Relief floods my body. They kept her distracted, which means she didn’t see my moment with Ty. Thank God, because I’m not prepared to answer the questions I’m sure she already has, let alone any she’d have if she caught on that Ty and I know each other in a more intimate nature.

I know I can’t avoid the truth forever, but I’ll put it off for as long as I can.

Ty wanders over to a group of my students while the other guys he came with do the same. I walk around the room, eavesdropping here and there on their conversations with the kids. That’s how I learn that the big beastly man with the kind smile is Gabe Romero, the one with the piercing blue eyes and swagger is Dominic Smith, and the third man whose smile never quite reaches his eyes is Romel Watson. Apparently, the Fierce Four are the key to the defense of the LA Wolves football team—a team I’ve seen billboards for, but since I don’t watch sports never paid attention to.

My students are buzzing with energy when the bell rings for lunch, and for the first time ever, they are all reluctant to leave instead of rushing out the door. Once they’re finally ushered out with hugs and waves to the guys, a sense of relief washes over me because this means Ty is leaving too. I can put my walls back up after he tore them down with the sweet way he interacted with my students. Gabe, Dom, and Romel head for the door, but Ty walks straight to me, a jersey in his hands.

“This one’s for you.”

I look down at the navy blue fabric in his hands. Then he flips it over, and I see RUSSELL written on the back and the number 31.

When I look up, he’s already watching me. “I hope you’ll wear it when you come to my game.”

“You mean if.”

He leans closer, his gaze dropping to my lips briefly. “No, I mean when. I messed up, Lexi, but I’m not letting you go. You and this baby are mine. So, someday, hopefully soon, you’ll be sitting in those stands cheering me on, and I want my jersey on your body so every man in there knows you’re mine.”

All the air whooshes from my lungs as I stare at this man who is making it really hard to keep my defensesup, especially when he sounds so sure. This man in front of me isn’t the Ty who made me feel like a gold diggertwo days ago; this is the Ty who made me feel precious and cherished during our night together.

This is the Ty I could too easily fall for if I’m not careful.

He moves his hand up and brushes a lock of hair away from my face, his gaze still locked on mine. His mouth parts before he closes it again, and the corners of his eyes crinkle with slight strain. “I know you have every right to turn me down after how I reacted the other day, but I’m really hoping you won’t, becauseI’m dying to spend more time with you,” he rushes out before taking a measured breath. “We have an away game on Thursday, but will you go out with me when we get back in town?”

I have no good excuse to say no, and truthfully, my defenses are too weak after watching him with my students.

“Okay,” I whisper.

The smile that breaks out across his ruggedly handsome face has my heart beating faster and my stomach tightening with need. He leans forward, placing his forehead against mine and closing his eyes. “Thank you, Lexi.” He pulls away just enough to press his lips where his forehead just was, and emotion clogs my throat.

This man is so dangerous to my heart.

That weekend, we step into the restaurant, and Ty places his hand on my lower back as he holds the door open for me to go first. The second we’re inside, my nerves flare to new heights.

This is a nice restaurant. Like, need-reservations-a-year-or-two-in-advance-and-everyone-here-drives-fancy-European-cars nice. I’m pretty sure it’s been featured in magazines for its exclusivity, and I can immediately see why.

Every single patron is gorgeous—men and women alike wearing obvious designer dresses and suits. The women are covered in massive jewels, and the men wear watches I bet would cost as much as my yearly salary, if not more. The place settings look like something out of a high-end magazine for the elite, and the energy in the room screams power and wealth.

I am so in over my head here.

A stunning woman wearing a jaw-dropping off-the-shoulder gold dress walks by, and I try not to stare, especially when I realize she’s an A-list celebrity, but I don’t miss the way her cursory gaze drops down to my dress or the slight lift of her lip in a sneer that doesn’t seem to fit the flawless beauty. My hands go to the skirt of my dress, rubbing my now sweaty palms on the suddenly cheap-feeling material I’d previously thought felt decadent against my skin. Can she tell this is a name brand knockoff I found on sale? My gaze darts around the other patrons, and even though I know they’re not, it feels like everyone is looking at me—judging me.

I don’t belong here.

What am I doing? I should be home on my cheap, comfy couch grading essays.

The heat of Ty’s body next to mine is the only thing that pulls me out of my freak-out. He nods to the maître d’, who greets him with a warm smile and guides us to our table. Meanwhile, I try to steady my breathing. I open my mouth half a dozen times to tell Ty this was a bad idea, but I can’t make the words come out.

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