Page 3 of Teach’s Hayride with the Baller

He raised both eyebrows. “With the teacher?"

Feldsman hissed breath through his teeth as I kneed him in ribs when he shoved at me, taking us halfway to the ground. "Good luck. Alice can barely understand her question.” He rolled a shoulder when I started. “My girl rooms with his sister on campus.”

Broomcorn Hollow always was small. Apparently moving one town across just widened the geographical scope and widened the social net, but nothing really changed.

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck. I was out of my league with her. I knew that, but I’d still make a go of it. She was pretty enough.

My teammate grinned. "Everything counts, man."

Shit, I said that out loud. “Other side,” I called before I passed the ball.

“Promise me something,” Jordan growled at me, as though he was taking the whole thing personally for a woman he didn’t know. “Try to be less of an ass with her. She seems to have a brain between her ears.”

Air shifted beside my head. My reflexes kicked in long enough to save my butt from being knocked down. The ball seemed more natural in my hands this time, the awkwardness dropping away. I didn’t think about her, or their barbs or how much dating in a small town with a small population who only knew me as the pretty boy dumb jock hurt.

I sprinted the length of the court, ignoring the plays we’d practiced, twisting and turning, and dodged under an outstretched arm. My feet walked on air as I slammed the ball through the net. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I shoved my hair back. Coach yelled something in my face. I’d remember those words later, because they were important but right now I was fueled by the freedom of the game. Exhilaration. I’d never tasted anything else like it.

And who knew? I was still keen to meet the new teacher and take her out, show her around. Maybe we'd have fun.

Hell, she was an Aussie. Did they do toffee apples and haunted houses there? We had plenty of fun in October planned. Maybe she’d enjoy the cultural differences of seeing the spooky side of a small town. Or maybe it was simpler than that.

Maybe I could take her on a hay ride and see if I could make her scream.

CHAPTER TWO

HAZEL

“Hazel.”

My fingers fumbled on the sticky apple that I'd been assessing. Was the sugary treat really worth the broken tooth I’d likely boast afterward? Maybe. The pretty rose shape pressed into the red candy vied against the pumpkin molding into the one next to it.

So many pumpkins.

A kid bit into her toffee apple and ended with a face full of gooey, red food coloring. Okay, so I wasn’t quite that committed to the experience despite my pledge as I walked out of the small, rented cottage when I headed for the main street earlier. At least the pumpkin spice latte scent coming from the stall next door at the small country fair was enough to tempt me.

I turned the sound of my name, so I didn't recognize the voice.

Big surprise. I didn't recognize anyone here. My regular world existed an ocean and a day and a half away on a fourteen plus hour plane trip across the international dateline. My friends were asleep while I was awake, and my dog lived in somebody else's house.

"Hazel Templeton."

I tried to replace my blank expression with something a little more publicly amenable from the slightly horrified look on the big guy’s face

"Yes?" I smiled far too brightly, like a lightbulb ready to blow a fuse on cue.

“Uh—”I

Oh, brilliant. Now I could add small-town-psycho-in-training to my resume. My new job would love that. I’d already had ‘the talk’ with the school about public facing personalities and keeping everything—dress, attitude, activities, life—above board.

The big fella took a step backwards, concern still etched across his face.

"You're the new teacher, right?" Lines gathered across his brow, as though confirming information to himself rather than asking me.

I nodded along with him until we must have looked like a pair of bobble headed dogs on a dashboard. The world swam slightly, and I stopped, waiting for the wave of nausea to recede. “Yes,” I managed, reaching for the edge of the apple cart to stop the world from moving, or maybe that was me. I should not have skipped lunch while marking papers.

“You’re at the university?” The tall man had sandy brown hair and a gentle smile. Somehow that made his stature, what looked like all six and a half feet of him, appear less imposing despite his girth and stature. Not that he was fat. Just…muscular. His gaze coursed over me, and his smile grew easy. “Pick the red one. The kids always love those best.”

I stared at him, my mouth open. "The red one? No, I work at school." I answered his questions in the wrong order. His eyes narrowed and I waved a hand, not taking the apple he picked from the stand. "My sister is the one who works at the university."