CHAPTER 1
Theo
The noise of locker doors,shuffling feet, and murmured conversationsfilled the Tilikum High School hallway as students made their way to lunch. I paused, leaning against the doorway of my classroom, and crossed my arms, surveying the mostly controlled chaos.
A group of girls clustered in a tight circle, heads bent together, trading news or gossip or maybe just deciding where to sit for lunch. A few of the sophomore boys, currently caught up in the school’s latest nerd fad, raced to see who was the fastest to solve a Rubik’s Cube before grabbing their lunches and heading for the commons downstairs.
One of my students, a big junior with a history of…well, being a jerk, came up behind a freshman boy. I cleared my throat. When the junior looked up and realized I was watching, the beginning of a grin left his face, and he moved on.
Not on my watch.
My football players were easy to spot. It was a Friday—game day—so they wore their jerseys to school. A few walked by, decked out in green and white with the Timberwolves logo, heading for the stairs.
“Hey, Coach.”
I tipped my chin to them.
Glancing up and down the hallway again, I made sure none of the current couples were making out by the lockers. Teachers emerged from their classrooms, some lingering to keep an eye on the kids. Others ducked around the congregated students and beelined for the teachers’ lounge, ready for a break.
Down the hall, the last door opened and Penelope Fallbrook emerged from the art room.
She was a mess, as usual. Dark hair in a bun that was probably not that loose on purpose, and a bit of paint on her beige blouse. She pushed her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose as she turned and made sure the door shut behind her, then glanced in my direction.
She smiled and nodded toward the stairs. I returned her nod. I’d see her in a few.
My eyes narrowed as I watched the boys watch her walk down the hall. Heads turned, eyes fixated on her chest or backside.
Penelope didn’t dress provocatively. She was a professional and wasn’t intentionally giving all the walking hormones in the building spank bank material. She just turned heads, no matter what she was wearing.
Not mine, though. Pen was super cool, but we were just friends.
No, really. Not “just friends” who were secretly pining for each other or destined to hook up.Actualfriends who had no interest in each other romantically. Penelope lived with her longtime boyfriend. And I’d graduated from dating and moved into my single-forever phase.
Which wasn’t just a phase, it was a life choice. And the forever part? I was serious about that.
Three of my five brothers had walked down the aisle over the past couple years, and we all figured Luke wasn’t far behind. They were busy having babies and being family men. Which was great. I love having nieces and nephews. All the cool stuff about kids without the crushing pressure and responsibility. Or the need for a wife.
Because that was a hard no.
The hallway cleared, and I headed down the wide staircase that led to the commons—a big multipurpose area. Students sat at round tables, eating cafeteria food or packed lunches. One of my players held up an apple like he was getting ready to throw it at someone. I pointed at him, and he lowered his arm while his buddies snickered.
“Watch it,” I said. “Or you’re all running laps.”
“Sorry, Coach.”
I gave them my best serious-coach look and kept going.
The teachers’ lounge was behind the front office, near the main entrance to the school. It offered a student-free space with some tables and a couple armchairs next to the window, plus a fridge and a counter with a sink. I’d always thought it looked more like the waiting room at a doctor’s office than a place to relax. Penelope and I had been lobbying for a remodel—or at least some better furniture—but so far, no luck. Budgets and everything.
I went in and nodded to the other teachers congregated with their lunches. Penelope already had a spot, so I grabbed my lunch from the fridge and joined her.
“How’s it going, Pentacular?” I asked. She had a black speck on her nose, so I reached over and tried to wipe it off with my thumb.
“Do I have paint on my face again?” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and checked her fingers as her glasses slid out of place.
I tilted my head and looked at her nose. “Still there. But it’s not very big.”
She adjusted her glasses and rolled her eyes. “I’ll get it off later.”
