Page 19 of Teach’s Hayride with the Baller

A few text messages in reply to mine, but nothing more than a few courtesies. Nothing ground breaking. Nothing to suggest that we’d shared the most incredible three hours of sex of my life. Her body tight and wrapped around mine, mewling and begging, kissing me back, teasing and learning what each other needed in the moment.

Not one damn thing beyond what decorum demanded. Hell, at least she hadn’t ghosted me entirely.

And so here I was, haunting the outside of her school, waiting to see what she’d do when she saw me.

It took a good twenty minutes after her class left before Hazel appeared. Her head was down and she poked through her oversized tote bag for…something. Hopefully not a hamster. I didn't want to chase one of those down Main Street. She turned away from the street where I expected her to walk, heading across the park.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Of course she was walking. I jogged after her, not calling out until I came within arm’s distance.

“Hey,” I said softly, not wanting to startle her.

Hazel’s head snapped up, her eyes unfocused. She blinked, and stared at me. Her step tapered. “Uh, hi,” she whispered. Her hand stilled in the bag and withdrew. Her steps restarted. “What are you doing— Don’t you have practice?” she blurted.

I shrugged. “Not today. I wanted to check in. Make sure you’re okay. After.”

Her back straightened. “I’m fine.”

Alarm bells rang in my head. “You used the f-word.”

Her eyes flared wide, a challenge issuing there as she pivoted toward me, stopping where she stood. “Mister Dawson,” she began in her best teacher voice. “I would never use the f-word during school hours.” The outrage written across her face almost made me believe her. And I would have, if⁠—

I leaned forward brushing wayward blonde strands from her face. “I remember what the mouth of yours can do, Miss Templeton.”

The color that suffused her face was beautiful. And damn if I didn’t want to take her home, and make her do it all over again. Unbutton her white blouse and see just how far down that bright pink flush went. All the way to the tips of her breasts, I would bet.

“You and my mouth don’t have business together." She turned away, her step restarting.

I frowned and caught her hand, tugging her back to me. “Hey, that’s not okay. What happened?” I searched her face, and glanced down at her wrists. Faint marks still surrounded them, and my stomach dropped. Shit. “Hazel. Did I hurt you?” I demanded, stepping in close. My hands circled her arms but I didn’t grab her, only checking her over. Arms, then ribs, until I cupped her cheeks and angled her head. She let me, standing impassively. Damnit, I hated the lack of response from her. “I never wanted to do damage to you, honey," I said honestly, my voice straining.

“N-not like that.” The stammer in her voice clued me in.

I didn’t drop my hands, but I did draw her closer and she let me. “Was it after, in the shower?” I stroked her cheeks. “Don’t leave me guessing. Please.” I didn’t remember the last time I begged from a woman, but I was ready to get on my knees now.

I love her.

I hadn’t lied to Jordan earlier. Sure, he might think my head was filled with sawdust, but Hazel had seen right through that long running rise. At least I thought she had. Until this week.

“You left.” She whispered the accusation, but it stung all the same.

“Honey?” I curled my fingers gently around her jawline, tipping her head back so I could stare straight down into her stunning eyes. “You’re angry that I didn’t stay with you the night of the haunted house?” I clarified.

A lump the size of a basketball swelled in my throat as she nodded, her eyes glossing with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “You were out of it and didn’t want to assume that I could stay. Your home is your sacred space." I risked sliding a hand around the back of her neck to massage her nape.

Hazel sighed and slumped against me, as though all the fight drained from her in that single motion. I gathered her against my chest, my heart pounding too hard, too fast against her cheek.

“I let you in,” she whispered. “You weren't supposed to leave.”

“I didn’t⁠—”

“They all leave,” she continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “And then they never come back.”

Ah. Fuck.

“Is that what happened back home?” My fingers tangled in her hair. I freed them from the snares and stroked gently. She nodded. “You want me to take you home now?” Another nod. I sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “You know that means you’re gonna have to walk with me and let go,” I prompted her.

“In a minute,” she murmured. “This week sucked. The hamster—” Her whole body shook.