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I walked in, making sure to close the door behind me, because I didn’t need Mrs. Vincent knowing more than she already did. I kept my back straight and my shoulders squared, even though I felt like I wore a badge of shame.

I’d screwed a student’s parent. I was a slut who was a threat to all of the other families in the school.

That’s how some parents and other teachers might see it.

They wouldn’t see that I was in love. That Tyler Marek was the one man to break me open and love and need everything he saw.

That he was the one man I needed in the same way.

I sat down in one of the chairs opposite Mr. Shaw’s desk and placed my arms on the armrests. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to speak to you about —”

“I know,” he cut me off, dropping the file folders he’d retrieved from his cabinet onto his desk. “I already spoke with Mr. Marek, and I saw the photo online,” he told me, and then asked, “When did this start?”

I lifted my chin, owning up. “We met at Mardi Gras last February,” I explained. “But we didn’t begin pursuing a relationship until this school year.”

He squinted, studying me. “Even knowing that you could lose your job?”

I faltered, dropping my eyes.

But then I looked back and faced it head-on. “Mr. Shaw,” I started.

But he held up his hand. “Ms. Bradbury —”

“Please, Mr. Shaw, let me say this,” I rushed out, quieting him.

I needed to tell him the truth, so no matter what happened, he would know that I didn’t take my actions lightly.

“I could never claim to be a person who was used to sacrificing what they wanted for the betterment of someone else,” I confessed. “I’ve been selfish and defiant many times in my life, most of which I regret,” I told him, remembering all too well my parents and sister.

“But I love what I do,” I maintained, “and I do it with everything I have. I’m committed to my career, and that hasn’t wavered. Mr. Marek” – I stopped and corrected – “Tyler is…”

I looked down, inhaling a long breath.

“I can’t do without him.” I stood my ground, owning my decisions. “I don’t want to. I love teaching, and I would hate to lose my job or your confidence, but I’m not sorry that I love him.”

I folded my hands in my lap, knowing I would do it all again. “I’m simply sorry things happened this way,” I admitted.

He sat there for a moment, looking like he was thinking about what I said.

I would hate to lose my job, hurt my reputation with the students and parents, or be the butt of someone’s joke, but I wasn’t tormented about the situation. Knowing that I would do nothing differently gave me peace.

He sighed and looked at me. “I’m not going to fire you.” He smiled gently. “I wasn’t going to.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

He shrugged, leaning on his desk. “You’re an excellent teacher,” he pointed out. “Your methods are drawing much-needed publicity for the school, and if I can be frank, your…” He waved a hand at me. “Mr. Marek will quite possibly be a senator. I can’t fire his wife.”

I dug in, shaking my head. “Wife?” I repeated. “Oh, no, we’re not engaged.”

He laughed and looked at me like I was stupid. “He went public with a love interest during a campaign, Easton,” he replied. “He may not yet realize he intends to propose, but his intentions toward you are definitely permanent.”

Okaaaay.

“Christian has been reassigned to the AP class,” he continued, standing up, “so there’s no longer a conflict of interest there. He is aware of this development, I assume?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” He nodded once. “You’ll no doubt have to field some gossip with the staff and parents, but I think you’ll find Mr. Marek’s status and reputation will go a long way in making sure it passes quickly. Let me know if you need anything.”

That was it?

He turned around and started rummaging through his file cabinet again.

I hesitated, feeling like there was still another shoe to drop, but when he didn’t say anything more, I slowly rose and began to leave.

“Thank you,” I said in a low voice.

“Easton,” he called, and I turned around.

“When the news crew observes your class today,” he instructed, “you represent this school and Tyler Marek now.”

And then he turned back around, leaving my stomach flipping with his little hint.

Yes. I represented Tyler.

For possibly a while to come.

“Principal Shaw says that you’d been offered opportunities to lead some staff developments,” the newscaster asked, “possibly taking days to go to other schools as well, but you turned him down?”

I smiled, the camera behind Rowan DeWinter, the Channel 8 anchor, fixed on me as I stood in front of the school.

The students had left for the day thirty minutes ago, and the interview was almost finished. They’d spent the last couple of hours observing classes and recording lessons before wrapping it all up with a final Q&A.

Jack, Tyler, and Jay all stood off to the side, observing and being here to support me. Jack knew I was apprehensive about being in front of a camera again, while Tyler and Jay were here to make sure I wasn’t messed with.

“I enjoy my methods,” I explained, “and I believe they work. But do I feel confident enough to teach other teachers?” I asked hypothetically. “No, not with only a few months’ teaching experience. I think a teacher’s place is in the classroom, and that’s where I’ll stay.”

Tyler grinned, and Jay shot me a thumbs-up.

“So you’re not taking any time off to help Tyler Marek with his campaign?” she queried.

But Jay stepped in, shaking his head. “This interview is about her —”

“It’s fine.” I held my hand up and met Ms. DeWinter’s eyes again. “I will absolutely help Mr. Marek in any way I can,” I assured her. “Even if it means stuffing envelopes. But he understands that I’ve made a commitment to my class and to Braddock Autenberry. If there’s one thing I love…” I suddenly stopped, feeling like I shouldn’t have given that away.

But then I started again, committing to it. “If there’s one thing I love about him, it’s that he’s just like me. We’re devoted to our promises.”

She smiled, accepting that answer, and Jay winked at me as if to say, Good job.

I rolled my eyes, his praise making me feel like I was an act in a circus.

After the news truck left and the school had emptied of teachers and nearly all the staff, Tyler led me over to his car and opened the back door, digging out a bouquet of white orchids.

“I’m sure you’ve received lots of flowers in your short years” – he paused, handing them to me – “but I’ve never given them, so…”

I looked at the abundance of white flowers, their curved petals so soft and fragile-looking. I had received lots of flowers over my tennis career, from my parents and from fans, but I loved these the most.

I was even glad they weren’t roses. I would’ve loved anything he gave me, but I’d definitely seen enough roses.

I peered up at him, cradling the bouquet like a baby. “You’ve never given flowers?” I teased.

“I’ve sent them,” he rushed out, quick to clarify. “But I’ve never…”

He trailed off, laughing at himself, and I broke out in a smile, thinking that it sounded like him. Of course Tyler Marek hadn’t taken the time to give flowers.

Until me.

He stepped up, a heated look entering his eyes as he pinched my chin. “I wanted to see the look on your face,” he whispered.

I leaned in, grazing his lips. “Well, I love them.”

“You should,” he shot out. “Orchids are temperamental. Just like you.”

I pushed him away, shoving the flowers to his chest as he laughed.

“Let me go get my things,” I told him, unable to keep the smile from my face as I shook my head. “I want you to come to my apartment before dinner. There’s something I need to show you.”