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“Well, that’s something you have in common with the rest of town.” Her head bobs side to side as she snickers, eyeing Hannah. Shocker: Hannah, who’s never giggled, does not join in. But neither do I.

Denise giggles, though, as if the two are sharing an old joke. She points at Rachel, her body shaking with her titter. “Wait, what about Mr. Barns?”

Rachel’s silly grin falters. “Mr. Barns stopped subbing after his last stroke. He hasn’t worked in three months.”

Denise’s mouth turns down in a frown. “That’s right.”

They continue with their own conversation while I choke down my lunch. Rachel slaps my back while never taking her eyes off Denise. “Poor man won’t ever teach again. Liv here is all we’ve got.”

“You’re serious?” I cough out.

“Of course.” Rachel nods, a done deal. Rachel Lemonade has a way of getting what she wants. “Callie only works a half day anyway, so you’ll have three classes.” She shrugs. “Play dodgeball.”

“Wait? Are you saying there are no lesson plans?” My hands flatten on the tabletop, while panic rises in my gut.

“It’s one day of gym, Livy. There is no reason for Callie to stress out making lesson plans,” she scoffs, her eyes dancing to Denise once more. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being eight months pregnant?”

“I’m not a teacher, Rachel.” Oh, how I wish I had a paper bag to breathe in. “I don’t think I can do this.”

But either she doesn’t believe me or she doesn’t care. Rachel pats my leg. “It’s gym. You’ll be fine.”

Bending, I rest my forehead on the cool tabletop, inhaling slow, deep breaths.

“So, how’s Logan?” Rachel says, as if I’m not currently hyperventilating. She nudges me with her elbow when I don’t respond right away.

My head lifts with her touch, and the chatter among the other women stops, all eyes my way. No one cared when I was dying on the tabletop ten seconds previous. Marty never stops chewing but glances my way as well. They’ve all heard rumors.

Great.

“Fine, I think.” My hands fidget beneath the table, and I’m so tempted to lay my head back down and hide. “How would I know?” I shrug and shake my head—a double negative, which doesn’t seem to help my innocence.

Logan hasn’t kissed me in days. Since I admitted to liking him. Which is confusing. Right? I admit I like the guy and he stops the kissing? Shouldn’t there be a lot more kissing happening?

I should be grateful—I need time. I just broke up with Ben. I have been single for ten whole days. It’s too soon. And yet… I’d really, really like to try kissing Logan again.

However, the lack of kissing in my week should give me an air of innocence with these people, shouldn’t it? Rendezvous shouldn’t be convicting me of anything.

And yet…

Denise is smiling.

Hannah is staring.

Even Lucille lets out an indiscernible holler from the kitchen.

I clear my throat. “So… Hannah, how is Harold?”

“Same as ever,” she says, speaking about her husband with little to no emotion.

Denise lifts her brows. Rachel tilts her head. They’re still waiting for me to elaborate about Logan.

“That’s wonderful. Just wonderful. Good ol’ Harold,” I say as if I know the man. “Okay, I’m finished. I really need to get ready for… class.” I gulp down the word. Rachel’s going to be the death of me. “Teacher Olivia needs a minute.” I laugh like I am hilarious. We all know that I am not. Still, I stand and toss three-quarters of my lunch into the trashcan, pretending I can’t feel my coworkers all staring at my backside.

Escaping to the private back office, I pick up the desk phone and dial. You better believe I have Logan Heyborn’s number memorized.

“Logan!” Very accurate panic rises in my tone.

“Whoa. Liv? Are you okay?”