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Authors: Linda Kage

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult

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BOOK: To Professor, With Love
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“Noel,” I whispered. He must’ve heard the rejection in my voice because he was quick to cut me off.

“I’ve been going crazy, Aspen. My sister calls daily with problem after problem. My mom hasn’t been home in weeks, and it’s making me feel like the guiltiest piece of shit because I’m not there for them. Meanwhile, I’ve been working my ass off every night to make enough money to help them, while trying to keep my grades up and...and everyone around here has completely different expectations of me, thinking I’m some carefree football hero who has nothing to worry about except the next game or keeping myself in shape, or which girl I’m going to take home tonight. You’re the
only
person who understands everything, both sides. And I...I feel things for you, like there’s this connection with you. I...fuck, I don’t know how to say this. You know how much I suck at putting words together.”

I hugged my knees tighter to my chest because it felt like my heart wanted to explode out of my ribs. Telling myself to keep quiet, I said, “You’re doing a fair job so far.”

He glanced at me, and his eyes swirled with emotion as his lips tipped with pleasure. “It’s not just physical,” he said. “I mean, sure, the chemistry is like,
pow
. But I just...I like being around you. I like that you know...me. And I like learning about you. I just...I want to know what we’d be like, what we’d be missing if we did nothing. I want to know if maybe there’s...more. What if...fuck, I don’t know. What if it’s
worth
risking everything to be together?”

It didn’t seem possible that anyone wanted to even consider such a risk for me. Rita, whom I loved like a mother, certainly hadn’t felt that strongly for me. She’d never risked her career or her family for my benefit. So hearing Noel say what he’d just said completely melted my defenses. Torn, I bit my lip and glanced at him. And, damn, his eyes were pleading.

“I’ve had a really shitty couple weeks,” he said. “I’m tired and stressed, and this is the first day I’ve had off in a long time. But all I want to do is spend it with you.” Lifting both hands in a sign of surrender, he shook his head. “No funny business, I swear. I won’t even mention sex. I just I want to be around you. We’ll keep it completely platonic.”

I told myself I had to be the stupidest girl on the planet just before I asked, “What did you have in mind?”

His body sagged as if the relief had been overbearing. But then he grinned. “There’s this park on the edge of a river one of my teammates took me to during my freshman year. It’s about an hour away from here. No one would recognize us, and we’d be out in the open where I wouldn’t be tempted into trying anything...untoward.” He lifted his eyebrows and sent me an ornery grin. “So, what do you say? Give me just one day?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“There's nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else.” - Brad Meltzer,
The Inner Circle

~NOEL~

“This place is amazing.”

The awe in Aspen’s voice made me grin across the cab of Ten’s truck as I parked at the edge of the grounds in the visitors’ parking area. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”

A long sloped lawn extended before us before dropping down steeply into the banks of the river. The grass was short and green; patches were beginning to grow, promising new vegetation.

A couple families were already enjoying the day, spreading out picnic blankets or walking their pets, or letting their children chase each other across the wide-open expanse. And beyond that sprawled a strip of small kiosks and vendors, peddling their wares on either side of a cobbled walkway.

“How’d you ever learn about all this?” Aspen asked, opening her door as I opened mine.

“My roommate, Ten, brought me here once. He lives in this area and wanted one of their corn dogs they sell. I think I made fun of him the whole way he dragged me here until we actually made it.” I grinned at her. “But the damn corn dog wasn’t half bad, so I had to shut up.”

She laughed. “So you brought me out here because you were craving a badly processed meat sausage on a stick deep-fat fried in cornmeal batter?”

“Hell no.” Snagging the ball I’d thrown into the backseat before heading to her house this morning, I held it up and twirled it on my finger before catching it. “You, my dear professor, are going to learn how to play football.”

Aspen arched an eyebrow, seemingly interested instead of horrified. “Really? What makes you think I don’t already know how to play?”

Okay, that one caught me off guard. I arched a suspicious eyebrow. “Do you?”

Her lips curved, and they looked so hot with that knowing little twitch tightening them. I had to remind myself again I wasn’t going to touch her today. Nothing sexual. Just friendly bonding. Getting to know each other.

Realizing what that smile meant though, I groaned. “Hell, you
do
know.”

Her entire face lit up. “I kicked ass in fantasy football last year,” she confessed, sounding rather proud of herself.

I threw back my head and laughed. “Holy shit. I had no idea you actually
liked
the game. I mean, the way you acted in class, I thought you hated everything to do with football, but...” Then it dawned on me. Her behavior hadn’t had anything to do with her opinion of the sport itself, but with her history with a certain
player
of the sport. I blew out a breath. “Right. Well, wow. If I’d known you were a fan, I would’ve bugged you into coming to our scrimmage we had a couple weeks back.”

“Don’t worry, I went.”

“So you saw...?” My eyebrows lifted as I pointed at my own chest. She nodded and I had to know. “Well, what’d you think?”

Eyes lighting with flirtation, she strolled around Ten’s truck to meet me on the other side. “I thought you could be the next Rodgers.”

“Shit,” I said, shaking my head. “No way.”

She slipped the ball out of my hand, and I watched her, frankly turned on by her interest in it.

“Hmm.” She practiced holding it different ways before glancing at me. “You know, I just now realized I’ve never actually
touched
a football before.”

I couldn’t believe it, and yet I could. Shaking my head, I took it back from her. “Well, this calls for a lesson, then.” Reaching for her hand, I started us off toward the grass. “I’m going to teach you everything you need to know about how to throw a ball.”

For the first five minutes, I just talked and demonstrated how she needed to position her shoulders and waist, where to keep her elbow, and how to hold it in her hand. When it was time to show her an actual throw, I spotted a boy about twenty yards away.

“Hey, kid,” I called. “Catch this.” When he immediately nodded and scrambled into position, I wound back my arm and sent him a nice, slow, lob. He caught it without any effort and threw it back. Aspen cheered and clapped for him, telling him what a nice job he’d done.

When I handed the pigskin over to her, she began to look nervous.

“I feel ridiculous,” she admitted when I stood behind her and basically got her into position.

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Trust me. You look hot.” I was very glad I’d only let her put on a pair of shoes and a bra along with what she was already wearing before I’d dragged her out of the house this morning because her outfit was casual and comfortable and perfect for both our practice and
my
view
. The ensemble broadcasted the best features of who she really was.

With a laugh, she jabbed her elbow back into my gut. “I’m probably going to throw like a girl.”

“You are a girl, so who cares?” Satisfied with how she was set up, I took a step back and let her throw to the kid. He had to run and jump for it, but he caught it with a happy shout. “Not bad,” I said, nodding my approval.

She turned to send me a skeptical glance, but I just grinned at her. She totally threw like a girl. “Want to play now?” I asked.

Our catcher and a couple of his friends were up for a game of touch ball. And they didn’t seem to mind letting the “girl” in on the fun. Actually, I think they all grew crushes on her within the first five minutes. She was just so fun about the whole thing. She laughed at her own mistakes, and playfully bantered with her opponents whenever we lined up before a snap, telling them she was going to take them down. And fuck, she was adorable to watch whenever she got the ball. She’d laugh as she dodged away from someone. I’d never in my life seen someone laugh while playing football before.

It was a little impossible to believe she was the same strict, no-nonsense, straitlaced woman who taught my literature class. But when Aspen Kavanagh loosened up, she loosened up.

By late afternoon, the kids had to leave and I was starving. So was she. Covering her stomach when it let out a hearty growl, she said, “Where’s this corn dog stand you were raving about again?”

Our exertions had left a rosy glow on her cheeks. And her eyes...damn, her green eyes were alive and glittering. I think I could’ve stared at her all day, just like that.

“What?” she asked, sending me an odd glance as she took down the ponytail she’d put her hair up in earlier when we’d started the game. As she finger combed the mass and let it spill down her back, I shook my head. Who was this woman, and how had I gotten lucky enough to get her for an entire day?

No one would believe me it I tried to tell them Dr. Kavanagh ate corn dogs, and finger combed her hair, and flirted with a bunch of preteen boys before sticking her tongue out at them after making a touchdown. But I was glad they’d never suspected. I was glad I had her all to myself.

“Nothing,” I murmured, reaching out to take her hand. “Let’s find that stand.”

After buying six corn dogs between the two of us, we found an empty picnic bench and sat across from each other as we ate. I liked seeing her appetite. She didn’t seem shy about eating in front of me, or ordering two sticks. And the way her lips puckered when she took a dog between her teeth was, well, I just couldn’t watch much of that. My head was already in a place it didn’t need to go. But even after I glanced away, I was still keyed up and aching to touch her.

“You know,” she said, thoughtfully, as she polished off her first corn dog and started on the next. “I don’t think I know what your major is.”

I glanced over. “Business management. Why?”

Her eyebrows lifted. With her mouth full, she muffled out the word, “Really?”

I shrugged and tossed one of my empty sticks toward a nearby trashcan, sinking it. “Well, you know, I’m not good at English. And math and science aren’t my thing either. History’s never interested me, but I’m decent in social situations, and I really like leading the team on the field. They listen to me, and I don’t know, kind of look up to me. That was one thing I know I can do, so I stuck to that in case, you know, the NFL doesn’t want me.”

“But you really do like football, don’t you.” She said it more as a statement than a question, as if she was just then realizing the answer.

“Of course. Why would I play if I hated it?”

“I don’t know.” One side of her shoulders lifted. “You just...after that day in my office when you said it was about desperation, I didn’t think it was what you loved more than anything in the world.”

“It’s...” Fuck, how did I explain this? “I don’t know. Getting into football in high school is what finally earned me the respect of some of my classmates. My natural talent gave me this rush that was...addictive. I love the game and crave that split second you have to think and react, strategize what the best play for that moment is before five hundred pounds of the defensive line tackles you. I like learning more of the tricks of the trade since I came to Ellamore, but...there’s a lot more pressure now. A lot more on the line. It’s not just fun anymore. Now, it’s everything, which takes out a little of the pleasure. But, yeah, to answer your question, I still like it. I love it.”

Aspen nodded, letting me know she understood. “If you could do or be anything in the world, without any consequences or worries, what would you do?”

The first thing that popped into my mind was her. I’d be with her. But I knew she meant occupation-wise. I shrugged. “Don’t know. I can’t really think of anything I like more than football.”

“Would you teach it to others if you couldn’t play anymore? You did really well with those boys today. I think you’d make a great coach.”

“Huh.” I hadn’t thought about that before. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Her back straightened as she preened. “I know. But seriously, you’re smart enough to do anything you want. I just wanted to make sure football was what you loved most.”

I blinked and shook my head. “Did you just call me...smart?”
Someone color me shocked
.

She furrowed her brow. “Of course you’re smart. I always knew that. It takes a mad set of brains to always say the exact thing in class you know will tick me off the most.”

Laughing, I shook my head and finished off my fourth corn dog, but inside I was still flattered she’d called me smart. When I spotted another food stand not far away, I dusted the crumbs off my fingers and turned my attention back to her. “Okay. Enough about me. I want to hear more about you.”

Her smile was a little uncertain. “Me? What do you want to know about me?”

Leaning a little across the table, I sent her a look as if to tell her to brace herself because this was a serious question. With my voice lowered, I asked, “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

She blinked and then threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t know. Vanilla?”

Wrinkling my nose, I exploded, “Vanilla? Who the hell prefers vanilla over all the other flavors out there?”

“Hey!” she scolded, half-laughing and half-insulted. “Don’t bash my tastes. What’s
your
favorite?”

“Easy. Rocky Road.”

“Interesting.” Making a sound in the back of her throat, she tapped her chin with her finger and studied me. “Is that some kind of symbolism for the way your life has gone?”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Okay, Miss Literature Professor. Enough of that shit. Not everything is an analogy on life. Sometimes, we just like the way something tastes.” Licking my lips, I swayed toward her as my attention dropped to her mouth. “Kind of how I like the way you taste.”

“Don’t,” she warned instantly, all smiles gone as she pulled back and arched me her nervous glance.

Fuck, I’d forgotten I was keeping this strictly platonic.

“I forgot.” Lifting my hands, I instantly backed off. “My bad, seriously. I’m sorry. But now you have me craving ice cream. If I can’t have the other thing I crave right now, you owe me a big, double-scooped cone full of Rocky Road.”

Standing up, I reached across the table for her hand and pulled her up behind me. I’d never been a hand-holder before today, but I liked twining my fingers through hers and pressing our palms together. There was something wholesome and innocent and yet utterly erotic about swinging our arms in sync as we walked side by side.

***

“Mmm, now
this
is why I dragged you here,” I said after we both had cones full of ice cream. “I couldn’t very well buy ice cream by myself.”

Aspen tempted me out of my mind with the flash of her tongue as she lapped up her vanilla coated in chocolate and crushed M&Ms. “Why’s that?”

I snorted. “How lame is it for a guy to visit an ice cream stand by himself? Hell, it’s even wrong for a guy to take another guy. It’s only right when some chick is unwillingly dragging him along.”

Wrinkling her nose, she bumped her shoulder against mine. “So, I’m your ice cream beard, then?”

“Exactly.” See, she totally understood me. I didn’t even care that the entire idea made her laugh at my silliness. I loved her laugh.

We wound our way through the strip together, holding hands and eating our ice cream cones, checking out all the strange shit people had for sale. Homemade jewelry and odd little knickknacks mostly made us laugh. But then Aspen found a used books rack.

I watched her scan through the frayed paperbacks, charmed by the fascination on her face. She was in her element and looked good there. When she found a story I knew had caught her interest, I paid the vendor for the paperback before she’d realized what I’d done.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Her words said one thing, but her eyes said another as she gratefully hugged the book to her chest.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re welcome,” I said, bumping my shoulder into hers. “Now let’s find a grassy spot and stretch out for a minute so you can read.”

Her eyes grew big. “You...did you just offer to let me...read?”

I shrugged. “Sure. Why not? It’s our lazy day to relax and do whatever we want. And I’ve seen your bedroom, remember? I know how much you like to read.”

“But...you’re just...” She shook her head, at a loss for words. “That’s probably the sweetest thing anyone’s ever offered me.”

BOOK: To Professor, With Love
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