Page 4 of Teach’s Hayride with the Baller

His nose wrinkled but at least he put the apple back for now. "Your sister."

"She's my twin,” I added helpfully.

“Oh." He looked stumped.

I raised both my arrows. “It’s okay. Nobody knows my name. I only just arrived."

The confusion cleared from his face, as though an overcast day cleared, and his bulk—the height, his straightness, the way he moved, hit me. “You're a sports jock, aren’t you?"

And… Cue grinning intensified. Something curious lit those dark eyes when he smiled though, something that broke through that stereotypical facade. Before I could study it too deeply, he took a step closer, reducing breathable air and space. Apparently this guy only had two settings: on or off.

"You got me. Basketball. I'm playing with the varsity team this week. At the college,” he added helpfully, when I stared.

Blankness was pretty much my set expression at this place. I didn’t get to study, I didn’t get a chance to rectify mistakes. "That's why you're asking about the university." I tipped my head to one side. "You look a bit—” I closed my mouth quickly before anything important fell out.

"If you're going to say that I’m too old to play for that squad, then you're probably right. He didn’t seem to take offense, reaching around me to grab two of the red sticky apples and paid for them before I could respond.

I ended up lost in my head as I stared back at him. "I wasn't sure–"

"Coffee?"

At this rate I wasn’t going to finish a sentence. But the tempting scent that had lured me before called. The tall man with the easy smile and the candy apple stared down at me, waiting. An air of patience surrounded him, as though he wouldn't leave without my answer. Something warm uncurled around my heart.

The one that had been shattered a few times before I left my home country and decided to take a hiatus in a whole new place oceans away from everything I knew.

Don’t panic, don't panic, don’t–

But oddly enough, with this strange man, in the middle of a packed fair, the familiar onset of tension eased. I busied myself with unwrapping the sticky treat and took a testing bite. My taste buds shot onto high alert as the double sweet and sour flavor everywhere.

"Oh, wow,” I managed, without sticking my lips and teeth together. “That's good."

"Told you." He waved his apple high in triumph. “Broomcorn has the best of everything.”

I raised my eyebrows and licked my lips. “Everything, huh?”

A dark gaze tracked the movement. “Yeah.” His voice came out a little lower, raspier. He cleared his throat. “I’m Zack. This might sound stalkerish, but I knew you were new in town. Everyone knows everything here. I wanted to invite you to the varsity game on the weekend. I don’t think they do them quite the way we do where you come from?” The lilt at the end of his sentence made it a question.

I got stuck somewhere around the subject just before that, though. Home. My stomach twisted, and the panic started in a fresh wave.

I hid behind my sticky apple-holding hand. "I don't go much for sports…" I trailed off, unsure how I was going to get around this conversation with the man who just brought me a treat I couldn't escape.

I don’t want to escape.

Huh. That was new.

The new guy—Zack—shrugged. "Basketball isn't for everyone. My sister hates it.”

“You have a little sister?" Somehow I could imagine this oversized giant of a man playing basketball in his backyard with a tiny girl, showing her how to bounce the ball about.

He coughed behind his fist and half-eaten apple. "I have two big sisters," he corrected me. "One owns that bakery right there. Audrey is a genius with food. The other is a lawyer in New York City. I don't think she's been to a game since she was about ten." Another shrug, more self-depreciating this time. “The magic wore off for her about then.”

I followed his gestures and the story he didn’t tell about missing family. I get that part. “It’s hard when you don’t see them.”

“I have a brother, too. He’s local." His gaze never left mine. “We used to fight like coyotes when we were kids. Now he lives a few farms over, and we barely see each other.” He rocked back on his heels. "You're the new elementary school teacher."

.

"Uh," I started, unsure of this reaction after the talking to I’d had from the local school’s principal earlier in the week. Does a flirty basketball player count as uncouth?