Chapter 31

thirty-one

ISLA

The week goes by in a blur of school prep and flirtatious calls and texts with Maddox. He shows up again on Friday to help me finish up all the last-minute little things I didn't get to. The first day of school is Tuesday, so it's crunch time. Maddox also arrives with a food truck in tow, telling everyone that he's booked them for the next three hours, and lunch is on him. He really has a fan club at Center High, now.

A bunch of the teachers post photos to their social media, tagging Maddox and gushing about how sweet he is and how he's shown up twice to help and provide lunch. My coworkers are pretty good at avoiding posting any lovey-dovey photos of Maddox and me, but I'm there in the background of quite a few, and when a reporter from a local news station shows up, I know they've put the pieces together, and she beelines it to where I'm inelegantly scarfing down a street taco. The reporter asks how long Maddox and I have known each other, if we're dating, and if I'm ready for what a relationship with a pro hockey player will look like once the season kicks off. I'm taken by surprise at first, but Maddox quickly swoops in and turns the whole interview around so that the focus goes to the school and the teachers.

He's amazing, and I spend what feels like every waking moment thinking about him.

That half of the Minnesota Rogues are following my Instagram account doesn't go unnoticed by my friends, and I get quite a few comments, calls, and texts from people I haven't heard from in ages. Even "friends" who likely never spared me a second thought after Alex dumped me. They sure as hell didn't check in when my life was imploding, but now that I'm dating a hockey star, they're popping up all over the place telling me how they've been thinking about me for so long and they've wanted to check in, but things were awkward for a while there .

Right. I suppose it is awkward to know your friend broke things off with his fiancée two weeks before the wedding with almost no explanation. I don't respond to those people. It seems unlikely that Alex hasn't heard about my relationship with Maddox, but I can't seem to care. The idea of Alex fuming with jealousy doesn't make me all tingly with glee like some evil mastermind the way it used to. Look at me, growing and maturing and stuff.

Maddox and I spend the weekend together. We don't do anything extravagant like another hot air balloon ride, but I almost love the simple things we do more. We sit at coffee shops and get to know each other better, meander around a farmer's market, and eat takeout at my place. I try to get Maddox to tell me what he plans to say at the assembly, but he's adorably tight-lipped.

The first week and a half of school goes by in a blur of early mornings, learning my students' names, and getting back into the swing of things. Maddox and I don't see each other as often during those first two weeks of school because their practice is kicking into high gear to prepare for the preseason on top of my extra hours at school. But we talk and text constantly, and he shows up with dinner a few times. We haven't officially defined the relationship, but I know neither of us is seeing anyone else, and I've caught feelings. Hard.

Maybe that's why I'm a ball of jittery nerves as I get ready this morning. It's the day of the assembly, and for whatever reason, it feels like a defining moment. Today, Maddox will stand up in front of my whole school, and I don't think there will be any hiding our relationship after this. Not that I want to hide it from anyone outside of the media and nosey strangers, but still. There won't be any going back from this, and that old worry that I'm not good enough claws its way up my throat.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror at an ungodly hour, I take extra care curling my long, red hair. My makeup is impeccable. I spent hours last night choosing my outfit. I look cute, and better than I do most school days, but Alex's voice keeps popping up in my head like some demonic jack-in-the-box.

Is that what you're wearing tonight? I asked you to make an effort.

I really wish you'd straighten your hair. The curls look so… unkempt .

That dress is a little tighter on you than it was a few months ago. Have you gained some weight?

"He was an asshole," I assure my reflection. "It doesn't matter what he thought about you. Especially since he rarely made you come."

Maddox has a huge dick. Not like, Oh my god, does he have elephantitis? huge, but definitely I'm going to get lockjaw from sucking that glorious cock huge.

"Get it together and stop thinking about penises," I scold my reflection. "You have young minds to mold today. You can't start the morning off horny."

Unfortunately, that part of the self-pep-talk doesn't stick. I am almost always horny since Maddox and I started dating. I used to think I had a low sex drive, but now that I'm dating someone who lights my panties on fire, it was clearly a lack of chemistry and emotional connection.

"Stop thinking about sex, Isla." And with a stupid grin on my face, I get in my car and drive to work.

There's an excitement and energy going into this new school year. Teaching can be a thankless profession, so it means so much when someone says you're doing important work and recognizes you for it. But to have that someone be a professional athlete admired by so many of the staff? It's added a shot of adrenaline to the heart of Center High.

Everyone buzzes about the assembly. Even the students who have never watched a hockey game in their lives look forward to getting out of class for an hour and asking a pro athlete questions. It makes the first half of the day a bit of a bust since no one can seem to concentrate on the material, but I don't scold my students about it. I can't concentrate, either.

When one p.m. rolls around, my chest is a mess of butterflies and nerves. I instruct my class of excited juniors to line up, smoothing my sweaty hands down my jeans.

"Ms. Harding?" One of my students, a super smart girl named Carmen, raises her hand in line. "Is it true you're dating the guy speaking at the assembly today?"

The whole class goes silent, waiting for my answer. Of course, that makes my pasty cheeks flame hot with color, and they all hoot and holler. "Where did you hear that?"

Carmen grins. "My brother is obsessed with the Rogues. He said there are photos of you two together on a few fan sites."

Oh, my god. I hope they're not bad photos. "There are?" I squeak. Not very authoritative, Isla. Carmen just grins and nods. "Are they at least good pictures?"

That has the whole class laughing. Carmen takes pity on me. "Yeah, you looked good in them, Ms. H. One looks like it was in a hot air balloon or something."

My photo from our date made it on some fan site? I had my profile set to private before I posted that, and Maddox didn't post anything from that night. I know the pilot wouldn't have done something like that—not if he wanted to get any future business from high-profile clientele—which means one of my followers posted it. And all of my followers are people I do, or have, considered friends.

Oh well, it's a problem for another day. And it's probably not a problem at all. It just feels strange, and kind of invasive. Sure, you should always assume that anything you post on the internet will make its way to the public for mass consumption, but I've never been in a position where anyone would care about the choices I make with my life.

My students are still watching me with curious expressions, so I shrug. "He took me up in a hot air balloon for one of our dates. It was pretty cool."

"I'd puke if I was that high in the air in an open basket," Brian, one of my students, says as he clutches his stomach.

"That's so romantic," another girl coos, her hands clasped under her chin. "Was it romantic?"

My chuckle is uncomfortable. I am so not discussing my dates with my students. "It was. But we're not here to learn about my dating life, right?" I clap my hands after glancing at the clock. "It's time to head to the gym. I know we're all excited, but I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. Let's make sure we represent Center High well. Okay?"

A chorus of agreement fills the room, and then I'm leading my kids through the halls and into the gym. The whole school buzzes with murmuring students and grinning staff. A surge of affection rises in my chest for Maddox. This kind of thing isn't a normal occurrence for these kids, and I love seeing their faces light up with innocent excitement. I know that—at least for the next hour—they'll all get to leave the struggles and stresses of their home lives at the door and just be kids.

The bleachers are full. It wouldn't surprise me to find out we are at one hundred percent attendance today. Teachers line the aisles and the walls of the gym. I'm standing close to the double doors Maddox will enter through, and my eyes stray from my students and to those doors every few seconds. I can't wait to see his face. It's only been a few days since we've been together in person, but it feels like longer.

Feedback screeches through the gym, earning a gasp and boos from the students as Trish White, our principal, takes her place in the middle of the gym. She offers a sheepish smile in lieu of an apology, and motions for everyone to quiet down with her hands.

"Good morning, students. As you all know, we have an exciting assembly planned for you today. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that being here is a privilege, not a right, so I expect you all to be the respectful, exemplary students I know you to be." Kids nod and murmur their agreement to behave as Trish scans the room, her principal face firmly in place. When she feels like everyone is sufficiently calm, her smile grows.

"How many of you are familiar with our local NHL team, the Rogues?" Hundreds of hands shoot up. "Excellent. Well, we are very lucky today to welcome several members of their team."

My eyebrows shoot up at that. Several? Maddox didn't say anything about bringing anyone with him. My eyes jump to the double doors leading into the gym as they open, revealing Maddox, his guys, and a few other members of the team. His rich, brown eyes scan the gym until they land on me and soften. I soften right along with them. I'm practically a puddle of goo when his lips quirk into a smile that's only for me. What did you do? I mouth at him.

His smile grows blinding. For you. He mouths back.

"Center High, please put your hands together for Maddox Graves, Logan Byrne, Sebastian Navarro, Griffin Wright, Ryder Hanson, Trey Moore, and Javier Martinez." Trish sweeps her arm out indicating the seven massive hockey players decked out in their best game-day suits.

Maddox brushes the back of his hand against mine as he walks into the gym, which is now thundering with applause and cheers, Griffin winks so exaggeratedly at me I'm sure everyone sees it, Logan and Sebastian offer familiar smiles and nod like we're all in on some inside joke, and the rest of the guys give me little waves.

I can only watch, stunned into silence by the unexpected additions to the assembly lineup. The guys smile and wave, taking the shouting kids in stride like this is normal for them. And I suppose it is. They must be used to this kind of reception. Meanwhile, I'm still struggling to pick my jaw up off the floor, completely overcome with glowing affection for Maddox Graves. When he looks my way again and mouths, You okay? All I can do is nod.

The thing is, I'm not sure I am okay. Because I was right. This is a defining moment for Maddox and me. It's the moment I fall a little bit in love with him.