Saved (Minnesota Caribou #5) - Colleen Charles Page 0,55
forth between us.
And in that split second, she knows.
Her voice becomes brighter and shriller as she says, “Well, I’ll just go sit in the back with the children and get out of your way, Blaine. I’m so glad you could join us today. Thank you for saving me from my presentation. I don’t know if I even remember how to take someone’s blood pressure.”
Yeah, Blaine. I’m so glad you could join us today without any warning so I could prepare myself for how wretched the sight of you would make me feel, ghoster.
I shove all those feelings away because my kids watch me like a hawk and they interpret even the slightest twist of my lips or slump in my posture as me being mad at them, something they try to avoid like the plague.
Blaine drops his huge duffle bag of gear on the tile floor in front of my desk and claps his hands together.
“Good afternoon, kids,” he says.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rice,” they sing-song back, their tiny voices laced with sugar and hope and everything that’s right in this world.
Except they don’t know how wrong he is.
They think the man hung the moon just like I used to.
I can almost swear a blush colors his scruffy cheeks. “I’m so glad that Miss LaCoste invited me here today to spend some time with you. Getting to meet the fans is one of my favorite parts of my job.”
The offer should have been revoked. In fact, I thought that ignoring your lifelong friend after fucking her removed all future invitations. But that’s just me.
I hang on to my anger like a lifeline. He’s like a wedding crasher and a velvet rope jumper all rolled into one.
I slip into my rolling desk chair. I guess I’d rather watch Blaine’s sculpted ass than his unaffected expression. But no… no can do. Blaine deliberately glances over his shoulder and gives me that cheeky grin he’s known for. Like nothing ever happened when it damn well did! Glancing down, I shuffle some papers and make a show of crossing through some words in bright, red ink.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“So kids. Does anyone know what I do for my career?” Blaine asks as he sits down cross-legged on the edge of the circle. Jennifer leans into him, shifting her yellow corduroy jumpsuit and practically swooning.
“I know! I know!” Jeremy raises his hand and stretches toward the sky.
Blaine tucks his Caribou cap over his eyes. The same ones that actually gazed into mine like he loved me. Even looking at him makes me feel like a worn dishrag, used and tossed aside. “You do?”
The little boy’s eyes widen as he takes it all in. “Heck, yeah! You play winger for the Minnesota Caribou! Do you know Adam Spencer?”
From my vantage point above him, I notice the slight grimace that breaks out across his face before he can shutter it. Out of the mouths of babes. Jeremy might be my new favorite student. Take that, non-communicator. Maybe you’re not all that and a bag of chips.
Ruby stands and stomps her foot. “Miss LaCoste, can you come over? You’re missing all the good parts. You always sit in the circle for career day.”
I stand and take a deep breath, hoping I can walk over and sit down without getting nervous, or worse, getting red. When I take a peek at his chiseled jaw, my heart expands but then it turns away at the same time. Blaine Rice will leave my classroom without learning anything about how I now feel about him if it’s the last thing I do. He’s made his sentiments known.
Or not known.
Surprisingly, a grimacing Penelope waves me over to sit by her. I sink to my knees and say, “Today, Mr. Rice is going to tell us what it’s like to be a professional athlete. Let’s all be respectful and go one at a time please.”
Blaine smiles and I feel a bit of relief when he focuses on the kids and not on me. “Has anyone here ever been to a Caribou game?”
Some of the tiny bodies raise their hands and fidget. Others mumble under their breath, mindful of the rules of consideration.
Penelope crosses her arms over her chest. “You beat the Riot last night. According to my dad, just barely. He says you’d be nothing without Adam Spencer.”
“Yup. We beat the Riot in a very important game. When you go to see hockey,” Blaine asks, “who do you go with?”