Page 8 of Montana Guardian

It’s sort of a gray area having Gage and Levi already familiar with Ryan.

“Hey, are we watching this or not?” Levi shouts from inside, referencing the movie he insisted we had to watch after Ryan admitted to never having seen it.

Rolling my eyes at the untimely interruption, I shout back that we’re coming, both of us sharing a secret smile, before heading inside.

***

“Knock, knock.” Ryan stands in the doorway of my classroom with two cups in his hands. It’s the middle of the week, and we haven’t seen each other since he cooked my family dinner. “I come bearing gifts—the hot chocolate I owe you for winning our game of HORSE on ice.”

He boots the door closed with his toe, and a wave of anticipation travels down my spine.

Get a grip, girl.

I’m at work in an elementary school, but the kids are gone along with most of the staff. School dismissed two hours ago, and if it weren’t for parent-teacher conferences coming up, I’d already be home, too.

So, Ryan and I are technically alone.

For the first time since our rushed kisses.

“Perfect timing,” I say, sipping at the sweet brew he offered with a slight dip of his head. “I could use a pick-me-up after dealing with all this.” My hand sweeps across the desk to encompass the stacks of folders for each student, and the evaluations I’ve been filling out with topics to discuss with parents.

“Happy to be of service.” He winks. Honest-to-god winks, and it’s sexy as heck.Hell.Sometimes it’s hard to break out of my second-grade teacher filter.

Ryan rests his thigh on the edge of my desk as I lean back in my chair and face him. He’s decked out in Guardian Valley athletic gear today, and it looks damn good on him.

There’s the gray GVHS Mustang ball cap covering his head and a lanyard hanging around his neck with our mascot galloping over the thin fabric straight to his school ID. A navy polo skims over his muscular chest and shoulders, and an embroidered school logo with ‘Head Coach’ in white block letters decorates his left pec.

My appreciative gaze rises up to meet his amused one, and I flush at being caught checking him out. Flustered, I fiddle with the papers on my desk and skip to a safe topic that doesn’t involve Ryan, me, and exploring his firm body in the middle of my second-grade classroom.

“No practice today?” I ask, despite knowing the answer. Every week, the boys get a break from constant after school practices and games to enjoy a free afternoon. Gage is spending his time at a friend’s house playing the latest car chase game—at least, that’s what his last text said they were doing.

“Nope.” He slides closer, his hand landing on mine to stop my fidgeting with a folder. “Gage let me know that you were still here when I texted him. Pretty sure he’s aware of my interest in his sister.”

My head snaps up. “Did he say something?”

“Nah… But I don’t make it a habit to message my players about their parental guardians’ whereabouts. Plus, I’m pretty sure he caught us kissing after dinner the other night. I saw a glimpse of his quickly ducked head when we went inside.”

“Crap!” Gage hasn’t said anything to me. Does that mean he doesn’t care if Ryan and I start seeing each other more seriously? “I should talk to him.”

“Or I can, but trust me, it'll be fine. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Ryan pulls me out of my chair and into his broad chest,surrounding me in his protective warmth. “He’s a sixteen-year-old boy. I’m sure the last thing he wants to hear about is his big sister’s love life. I know Brooke never cared to know the details about mine.”

I forgot for a second that he also has a younger sibling. Based on what I learned during my brothers’ dinner inquisition, he has experience raising a sibling, too.

“You were a professional hockey player who had women throwing themselves at you for years. I can understand your sister’s reluctance to learn of each escapade,” I tease, although my gut clenches at the realization that the guess probably isn’t far from reality.

Even in Guardian Valley, Ryan Stanley is a hot commodity. Most of the teachers like to gossip about him and flirt any chance they get. And the women in town are just as bad, hovering around him, waiting to be plucked from singlehood by one of the most eligible bachelors around.

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart.” A smug grin tugs at his cheeks, his perpetual five o’clock shadow darkening his sharp jawline. “Any escapade I ever had has been eclipsed by a certain schoolteacher who’s got a mean slapshot.”

“I’m not jealous,” I lie, although his praise somewhat appeases the green-eyed monster that popped up at the mention of other women. “The point is Gage isn’t used to me dating, if that’s what two kisses, dinner, and hot chocolates equate to.”

Because it’s not like we’ve had a DTR conversation yet. Things between us are still new.

“Oh, we’re dating. Exclusively.”

A knot ties itself around my heart and squeezes tight.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of dating? Rotating between different people to find the right match?” I ask out of curiosity.

---