Page 9 of Teach’s Hayride with the Baller

“Not becoming a teacher.” Before I faced him, I recognized the grin in his voice.

“Mister Dawson!” Liam shot out from under the cabinet and straight at Zack, who apparently had a last name after all.

And brown and white splotched hamster in hand.

“You found him.” I fixed Liam with a firm eye.

“Uh, yeah. He was eating part of a stale brownie under the table there.” He waved at a clean spot that left no crumbs to be seen.

“Was he.” Not a question. I fetched the hutch and held the door open for the hamster. “Maybe he should head home now?” I offered.

“Sure?” Liam twisted to look at Zack. “You want to hold my hamster?”

Bless Zack for his kind smile and straight face when the hamster was thrust toward him.

“That looks like a pretty speedy critter,” he said softly, kneeling on the floor. “How’s about I hold that hutch for Miss Templeton, and you wrangle him for me, okay?”

I watched bemused as the pair of them struggled to fit a passive hamster who may have fallen asleep during his tiresome journey into the hutch. The door went down and Zack secured it.

“Thank you,” I mouthed.

He sent me a trademark smile that didn’t do anything to my stomach at all. Not a single thing. “All good. Why don’t you thank Miss Templeton and get outta here, huh?”

Liam took one look between us and figured it out. “Ohhh. Oooh,” he whistled and dashed for the door.

I groaned. “You have no idea what questions you just cost me,” I muttered, hanging my head.

The door shut quietly, then Zack was right in front of me. “They might be in vain,” he said softly, dragging two fingers beneath my chin, until I met his dark, liquid gaze.

If a man could be a safe dog breed, I swore Zack was a husky. Cute and sweet and super playful and goofy when he's needed, and serious in those rare moments in private when he needed to be.

Not that I knew him at all.

“Why?” I breathed, willing my pulse to behave as his fingertips rested right over it, telling him exactly how my body reacted to his.

“Because I have to help someone out this afternoon. When I wanted to be with you. If I get this done fast, I can take you out tonight. But it’ll be later than I think you want to be out.” His gaze searched mine. “I know you’re not… a night owl.” Those same eyes coasted over my pale blue blouse where it tucked into my tan, knee length skirt and plain matching shoes. Practical things for school.

“It’s a weekend tomorrow, Mister Dawson,” I tried out his name on my tongue for the first time and liked it. “I don’t have to be conservative tonight. Not super conservative anyway.

I bit my lip, remembering the girl in the skull tights at the fair the previous week and wished I could be that outgoing.

“I saw how you looked at that girl last time,” Zack murmured, his thoughts apparently trailing along mine. “You bat for the other team, Teach?”

I blinked at him, then worked out what he was asking. “Oh. Oh! No.” My cheeks flared with heat under his unflinching glare. “I was told not to do anything that might jeopardize my position, the school or my reputation when I arrived here. That’s all.” I bit my lips. “Perk of the job?” I shrugged.

“But you'd like to play occasionally.” His knuckles grazed along my arm, touching bare skin that rippled with gooseflesh wherever he touched.

I swallowed hard and decided honesty was worth the risk. What the hell. I chose to come here for cultural immersion, right? This might not be his culture, but this was a part of me. “I know I can’t go all skin tight and micro mini skirt, but I’d love to have fun and just….forget about playing by the rules sometimes,” I whispered, sure my entire face was candy apple red by the time my confession tumbled from my lips in the barest whisper.

“Is that right?” Zack’s fingers found mine and tangled there, squeezing. “Come find me at the night markets later, Miss Templeton. I wanna show you around. If you’re up to it.” the same brand of undisguised need from when he kissed me at the basketball game flared in his eyes. He leaned forward, and I was sure that he would kiss me again. But he squeezed my hand, then pulled away.

Breath sucked from the room with him as he slipped out of my classroom, leaving me alone. But not without ideas.

Zack Dawson had given me permission to play, or maybe I had. For once, I didn't have to be up early in the morning. I had a few months in the US, and it was nearly Halloween.

It was time to find the store that the skull tights came from and work out what else they had.

CHAPTER FIVE