Page 37 of Well Played

When I step back and go back to stirring the sauce, he’s behind me. “Willow, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Isn’t it the first rule of dating not to talk about your ex?”

I set aside the spoon and twist to see his furrowed brow and little crinkles between his eyes. He’s genuinely concerned that he upset me. “I think the first rule of dating is to be honest, andbecause you were honest with me, how about I swap you one truth for another?”

“Hold that thought.” He unscrews the bottle of wine and pours two glasses. “To truth and honesty?”

“To truth and honesty.” I touch my glass to his and take a long sip. How much should I confess?

“So, you were going to tell me why you got lost in thought back there.”

“I was,” I say very slowly, “thinking about all the times I watched you play.”

“You're a fan.”

“I am a fan. Of your team and then of you.” There. It doesn’t feel as scary to say I’m a fan. Bronx has thousands of fans and must meet us every day.But he doesn’t agree to have dinner with all fans.

“Does that mean you saw my hat trick?”

“Are you kidding? You’re accepting that as a hat trick?” I don’t need to force a laugh. “The replay clearly showed …”

“The scoreboard clearly shows that three tries were scored that day, each one by Bronx Parker. Three tries is a hat trick. The question is, Ms. Willow Caton, did you see my hat trick?”

“I watched the game.”

“Did you see my hat trick?”

“I saw all tries that were scored, including the dubious one awarded by the referee. I only agree it was a try because we needed the points to climb the competition ladder on for and against.”

“You’re truly a fan.”

“Does that make things awkward?” I look away, before adding, “I mean, if you want to go …”

“Willow, I’m a lot older than you.” He redirects my gaze with his thumb across my hand and his touch electrifies me. The words saywe shouldn’t, but it’s only seven years.

“And your daughter is in my class.”Even if I don’t lose my job, I could lose my reputation.

“My daughter is the most important person in my life.” He says the words, but he’s looking at me as if I hung the moon.

“My job is important. I don’t know if there are rules about dating a student’s parent, but it wouldn’t be a good look for either of us.”What would his ex-wife say?

“I’m sure parents hit on you all the time. When you were standing in your classroom, I felt your energy. You aren’t just beautiful, you are daylight. You’re a bright sun. I’m rambling, but I already told you I have no game. You’re just …”

“I’m starting to think that your game is telling women you have no game to lower our defenses.”

“I promise you, my last first date …”

“I know, was when you were sixteen. As for parents hitting on me, I became immune to that years ago.”

“Are you immune to me?”

If I step closer, we’ll be within kissing distance. If he steps closer, I can either back into the stove or stand my ground.This is wrong. No, this feels right.He’s just come out of a messy divorce—he isn’t even divorced.He’s been separated for over a year.Charlotte. I have no come-back. His daughter is my student.

“I asked you a question, Willow. Are you immune to me?”

“I'm your daughter's teacher.”

“I know.”

“It could be used against either of us; personally and professionally.”

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