Page 25 of Home Field Advantage
It’s so much all at once.
“Ireallyhope to see you around then,” he whispers. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Maybe,” I reply with the same response as the last time I saw him in the coffee shop, as I step away from the heat of him before he consumes me like flames ignited by gasoline.
“It’s a small town.” He winks.
“It is, isn’t it?” I smile before turning on my heel and walking toward the exit, away from the inferno of a man.
But walking away does nothing.
I feel the heat of him everywhere.
Dallas is only here briefly, but I have a strange feeling he will do whatever he can to break through the walls I’ve put up to guard myself.
And I’m not sure I can let him.
CHAPTER 6
HE PREFERS MURDER.
Poppy
“Good morning, Julia,” I say, greeting the receptionist at the school office. “How are you today?”
“I’m good, Poppy. Thank you for asking.” She passes me my mail over the counter. “Your new student starts today.”
My smile grows as I take the papers from her.
We rarely get new students, but when we do, I get overly excited about welcoming another child into the fun world I create inside my class.
Being able to dive into my craft world to put their name on their cubby and desk makes me so happy. There’s something about watching the other students welcome and celebrate them, too. Since most of my students are six and seven, they’re at that age where everyone is their best friend.
“Her parents are coming in later to complete the rest of the paperwork, but I gave you what I have so she can get started.”
“Great.”
“I will schedule a parent-teacher meeting for the end of the school day tomorrow if that’s okay with your schedule.”
I nod. “Thank you again,” I say, leaving the office to make my way to my classroom to prepare for the day.
Filtering through the few papers in my hands as I walk, I try to organize them in priority order so they’re ready to put them where I need them on my desk. A bump to my shoulder makes my steps falter backward, and a hand grips my upper arm to steady me. Looking up, I’m met with Ben, the school principal, whose lips twist into a full smile when he realizes it’s me.
“Hey, Poppy.”
“Oh, hi.” I smile back politely. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“All good. Are those papers the information on the new student coming today?” he asks, adjusting himself to catch a glimpse of the paperwork.
I angle the papers so he can see them, too.
“Ahh, yes.” He nods repeatedly. “I was excited to hear she was placed in your classroom. There’s no better teacher we have here to welcome her with open arms.”
To others, that might seem like a professional compliment.
But I’ve known Ben for a good part of my life. He transferred here when his family moved to Bluestone Lakes during his senior year of high school. Since he first laid eyes on me, he’s done nothing but flirt with me. My problem is that he also flirts with everyone else in town. So I’ve become immune to him and his ‘‘compliments.”
When I finally trust someone and let them into my world and who I am, it won’t be someone like Ben, who I have to worry about flirting with someone else. For some strange reason, I had those similar flirty vibes from Dallas at the bar last week. It was hard to deny the butterflies swarming my stomach with how he talked to me, but the more I thought of it, the more it made me wonder if that’s how he talks to everyone.
