“Life moves pretty fast,” she stated. “If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Ferris,” I joked, recognizing her Ferris Bueller’s Day Off reference. “I know how to have fun.”

She snickered, blowing out a breath. “I don’t even think you know how to smile,” she taunted.

I gasped in feigned outrage.

Plopping my ass down in my chair, I slipped off my heels and turned like her, pushing off with my foot, one after the other, and scurrying after her.

“I know how to have fun,” I boasted, clutching my heels to my chest.

The hem of my navy blue dress rested at my knees, and I pedaled my feet, laughing as I caught up to her.

She picked up the pace, and I stood up, tossing my heels into the seat of the chair as I grabbed the sides of the chair and raced it.

“You can’t do that!” she screamed, wide-eyed.

I flew past her, rounding the corner to our classrooms.

“There are no rules!” I shouted over my shoulder.

And then I pushed off, dropping into my chair once again and letting myself sail backward to the finish line. I held up my hands, gloating.

“And let that be a lesson to you.” I smiled ahead at her playful scowl.

But then her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth fell open.

I looked over my shoulder and immediately put my feet down on the floor, stopping myself.

“Mr. Marek,” I said, looking up at him leaning against the wall next to my classroom door.

What is he doing here?

My chest rose and fell from the exertion, and he tipped his chin down, cocking an eyebrow at me.

I shot up, smoothing my dress down and glancing over at Kristen. I only caught her smirk before she disappeared, pushing her chair into her classroom down the hall.

I turned back to Marek. “Excuse me,” I said, feeling heat spread over my cheeks. “We were just…”

I trailed off, leaving it there. He knew what we were doing.

His three-piece black pin-striped suit looked crisp and dark against his fair skin, and his white shirt and slate-gray tie shimmered in the glow of the light overhead.

I took a few steps forward. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

His eyes shot down to my feet, and I followed his gaze, remembering that I’d forgotten to put my heels back on.

“Always losing your shoes,” he commented, a smile curling his mouth.

I pursed my lips and turned around, snatching my heels off the seat and slipping them back onto my feet. Grabbing the back of the chair, I pulled it behind me and entered my classroom, knowing he’d follow.

“You came to my workplace unannounced,” he stated behind me. “I thought I would return the favor.”

I replaced my chair behind my desk and looked up, seeing that he had closed the door behind him.

“And?” I prompted.

“And I came to apologize,” he admitted, stopping a few feet in front of my desk. “I’ve been unfair, and I’m sorry. Christian has his phone back, so we’ll see how this goes.”

I stilled, my heart galloping in my chest, and I almost smiled.

Really?

I opened my mouth but had to swallow the lump before I could speak. “Well, that’s great,” I said, surprised. “Thank you.”

I guess I got through to him at his office.

He slid one of his hands into a pocket and narrowed his eyes on me, looking a little surprised.

“You seem very knowledgeable and determined.” His voice sounded genuine. “You’re an impressive woman, Ms. Bradbury, and I should’ve taken the time to understand your methods.”

I kept my shoulders squared, but my eyes dropped, embarrassment warming my cheeks.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, turning around to grab a dry-erase marker to start writing the schedule on the board for when the kids came back on Thursday.

“Christian talks about your class,” he said behind me. “I can tell your teaching interests him, even if he would never admit it.”

I uncapped the marker and rested my hand on the board but didn’t write anything.

“He really can’t stand me, can he?”

I dropped my hand to my side and spun around slowly, surprised by his question.

And feeling terrible all over again. I should never have said that.

No matter how much I thought I knew about him, they were nothing more than assumptions. Who was I to insinuate his son didn’t care for him or vice versa? And what gave me the right to say anything at all in the first place?

He breathed deeply, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked unsure of himself.

“I was twenty when he was born,” he told me. “That’s no excuse, but it’s the only one I have.”

Twenty.

I was twenty-three, and I couldn’t imagine having a child right now.

I watched him and waited, not wanting to say anything or interrupt because I found I kind of liked it when he talked.

“I know what you think of me.” He looked me dead in the eye and then dropped his gaze, speaking in a voice close to a whisper. “And what he thinks of me.”

And then he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I even care what you think. You don’t give a shit about me, but I guess that’s what’s so intriguing.” He moved forward, his soft eyes turning to steel. “You’re so cold and distant,” he charged. “I guess I wouldn’t think anything of it if I hadn’t seen you so different at one time.”