Game of Love(10)

Her hand shook a little as she studied the photograph of the two of them. She remembered the day the picture was taken. I remember almost every day we’ve ever spent together. She ran her finger over his image, shocked that he’d not only kept it, but framed it and had it on his dresser. He must think about me as much as I think about him. Along with the realization came a stab of guilt, which she tucked away, focusing instead on the photograph. Dex had been seventeen and she was sixteen. It was June, just before the end of the school year. Dex had needed a haircut. She remembered teasing him about it. His hair fell over his eyes and he wore no shirt. She was pressed against his chest. I was always pressed against his chest. A stranger would never know who was behind that mop of dark hair that his hand was buried in. She could still feel his heart beating against hers, his hand covering her lower back, the other cupping the back of her head, and the way his embrace had felt like he was claiming her as his own.





“REMEMBER THAT DAY?” Dex leaned against his bedroom doorframe.

Ellie started and put the photograph she was holding back on his dresser. “Dex, I’m so sorry. I was looking for a bathroom, and I…”

He smiled and picked up the picture. “It’s my favorite. Do you remember taking it?”

She nodded, and he wondered if she felt the same longing for that time as he felt when he looked at it. The picture had been taken two weeks before she’d been sent away. Siena had just gotten a camera and was always taking pictures. Ellie hated getting her picture taken. She’d had on a halter top. Dex remembered thinking how pretty she was and that she never wore shirts like that. She’d turned away, and he’d wrapped her in his arms. Her back was warm and soft, and Dex had wanted to hold her forever. He’d told Siena to stop, but Siena had taken the first shot—the picture in the frame—and she’d caught the happiness on his lips, the look of love in his eyes. She’d caught his heart on film, and though the next five pictures showed a very different and protective Dex because Siena hadn’t listened when he told her to stop taking pictures, he’d kept this one for himself.

Ellie nodded. “Siena was always up for mischief.”

“She still is. I’m having lunch with her tomorrow. Want to come?” Please say yes. Having Ellie with him last night brought back so many memories and forced the ache of missing her to the forefront. He knew he shouldn’t get close, but resisting Ellie was not in his bailiwick of skills.

“I can’t. I need to find a job and I need to find a place to live. Oh, and call the bank to cancel my credit card.” Ellie ran her hand through her hair, and her fingers tangled in its thickness.

He set the picture down. “What about reporting it to the police?”

“That sounds like a headache. There was nothing but a little cash and one bank card in my purse. I’d better shower.” She started to walk past him, and he stopped her.

“Ellie, use my bathroom. The only other full bath is in the room where Regina is sleeping. How are you getting to your interview?”

She shrugged. “Walk, I guess. I’ll figure it out.” She opened her suitcase and began to unpack her clothes for the interview.

“I’ll give you money for a cab.”

She spun around. “No. I don’t need—”

“No shit. You don’t need money for a cab. You’ll walk twenty blocks or however long it is to the school. I know you can and will, Ellie. But until you get the bank thing worked out, just take the cab money. You can make breakfast to pay me back.” He smiled, knowing she was going to fight with him about the money and almost relishing in it. She was too tough for her own good—and so damned cute when she got ornery.

“I suck at cooking.”

“Then you’re in luck, because I don’t.”

She shivered. “It’s chilly in here.”

He crossed the floor and closed the window. “Old habits.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I sleep with it cracked every night. Always have. Well, ever since…” Ever since you showed up at my bedroom window that first time. He realized his mistake as soon as he’d said the words. He’d just given her another reason to run. Don’t get close to Ellie Parker or she’ll take off. That could have been written under her photo in her high school yearbook. The week his mother invited her to dinner, Ellie didn’t walk home with him once. It had taken her almost two full weeks to find her way back to him again. But like a fish to water, she’d come back, and then she’d eased into his family’s hearts the same way she’d snuck into his.

She shifted her gaze from the window to her toiletry bag, clearly ignoring his comment. Damn it. He had enough going on in his life that he didn’t need the roller coaster ride that was Ellie Parker. But he’d be damned if every part of his body didn’t crave her now that she was close.

“I’ll be really quick in the shower, and I can walk, but thanks anyway.”





Chapter Ten


AFTER CALLING THE bank and checking directions online for the school, she realized that walking a few miles in heels might be a bit much after sleeping only a handful of hours the night before. She’d swallowed her pride and borrowed cab fare from Dex, ignoring the smirk on his handsome face. He’d wished her luck before she left, and as she walked into the old brick building, she realized that luck hadn’t been on her side in months. Maybe even years. Or ever. Although, what else could running into Dex have been?

The halls of the elementary school were bright and cheerful. The school had that unique elementary school smell of paste and cafeteria food. She missed the kids she’d worked with in Maryland, and she hoped they were getting the attention they needed from their new teacher. When Ellie was teaching, she didn’t have shivers of doubt. She was confident in her teaching skills, and although school had been a painful experience—Ellie had always felt like a misfit—it was the one place she could prove herself. She’d excelled at schoolwork, earning A’s in most of her subjects despite feeling out of place. Grades were all about her. She controlled how much she studied and how intently she paid attention. No one else could take credit for her grades, good or bad.

“Ms. Parker? I’m Principal Price. I’m glad you made it.” Principal Price was an older woman with pencil-straight salt-and-pepper hair worn in a severe blunt cut just below her ears. Her smile was forced, which Ellie noted went along with her feigned kindness. She imagined this woman, who was as vertically challenged as Ellie, hovering somewhere around five foot three, had a default scowl that took hard work to mask.

“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about your school.” Ellie followed her into a small office, which was impeccably clean save for a small stack of files on one side of her desk.

With her nose in Ellie’s file, Principal Price said, “On your application you stated that you were moving to New York to return to your roots. Is that right? So you’re from the city?”

Was it? Or was it to be closer to Dex? Focus, Ellie. “Not the city, just outside. You know what they say…” Shit. Ellie had no idea what they said, much less who they were. “Once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker.” She pressed her hand to her knee in hopes of settling the nervous bounce that had taken over.

“Tell me about your teaching style.”

Ellie had practiced for her interview nonstop on the train to New York, and she rattled off her prepared answers. “While I follow the outlined curriculum for the students, I cater how I teach each lesson to the needs of the children. I work with the kids who need more time or depth to understand a concept while the ones who do understand are working their way through the problem. I find that holding up the entire class for one or two children’s needs tends to cause the kids who do understand to lose interest.”

Principal Price wrote something on her clipboard.

“Can you tell me about the class? What are the children like? Have most of them gone through the previous classes together, or do you have a high turnover rate in the classrooms?”

Principal Price opened her drawer and pulled out a spreadsheet. She slid it across the desk and Ellie looked it over.

“Our fifth-grade students scored above the national average in every area tested in the spring. Overall achievement was at the sixtieth percentile, ten points higher than the national average of fifty.” Principal Price continued rattling off statistics and milestones.

Ellie redirected the question and asked about the morale of the students, hoping to glean a little insight into the children themselves, their behavior, their attitude toward school.

Principal Price referred again to the statistics, reiterating that they had achieved above-average scores.

She tried one last time. “I understand the rankings and achievements, but I’d love to know about the children’s personalities, how they interact, if there are any children who need more attention than others. Anything that I should be aware of with regard to working with them in the most effective teaching manner possible?”

“Ellie, they’re children. They come to class to learn, and you’ll teach them the curriculum to ensure that they pass the state requirements. I’m sure whatever you did at your old school will be similar in practice to teaching here. The most important thing is that we meet the established milestones.”