The Alpha's Second Chance Page 10

  Within a minute, people had their phones out and were holding it up recording him. From the kitchen, I heard my dad yelling. “Uh, Lauren. I think your ex boyfriend is on our lawn?” Even Mrs. Henson came out.

  The whole time I just stood there, grinning. What an idiot. Finally I decided to put him out of his misery, and I opened the window further and climbed out of it.

  The people standing by started clapping and my parents came out to stand on the porch. His parents came out and stood in the driveaway.

  Finally the song ended, and Shawn put his arms out and shouted, “Lauren Gordon. I have a question to ask you!”

  Oh God. No. He’s not going to ask me to …

  “Will you … will you … be the person who isn’t my ex-girlfriend anymore?”

  Oh, thank goodness. I thought he was going to ask something else. Evidently everyone else did too, because people started booing and walking away and driving off.

  He was standing there with such a stupid grin on his face, how could I say no? I went up and hugged him.

  “Shawn. This is all really sweet, but you live in Houston. You travel all the time. I don’t want to do the long distance thing.”

  “We don’t have to.” He was still smiling.

  “I can’t move to Houston, Shawn.” I mean, technically I could, but I didn’t want to.

  “You don’t have to do that either.”

  “What are you saying?” I was confused.

  “I called Pete Ackmore, the owner of the Heroes. Told him I want to retire at the end of next season. My contract is up then, anyway.”

  “But, Shawn. As long as I’ve known you, all you ever wanted was to play football and win the Super Bowl. You haven’t won the big prize yet. You can’t quit now.”

  “Lauren, listen. Yeah, a Super Bowl win would be nice, And I’m still gonna try one more year. But, honestly, even if I don’t get it, it doesn’t matter in the big scheme of life. I live all alone in a big empty mansion.”

  I had to grin and say, “How awful for you.”

  “No, you know what I mean. When you’re playing football and the perfect receiver opens up, you have to be willing to change the play to throw the ball to him. I never expected to run into you again. Fall in love with you again. I am not going to fumble this time. I can move to Denver.”

  “Actually … I’m moving my business here. This whole scare with my dad made me realize that I don’t want to be away from my family.”

  “Fine. Then, I’ll come home too. We can live next door to each other like the good old days.”

  I had to smile at that. “Okay, on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Use the front door.”

  His reply was to kiss me, and my parents and his parents started to clap.

  Epilogue

  Eighteen Months Later

  “And we’re live in 5... 4... 3... 2… ”

  “Welcome back to The Halftime Report. I’m Shawn Ryan …”

  “And I’m Toni Falcon.”

  I was standing off camera watching Shawn and Toni talk to Pepper Camry, the female sports reporter who took over for Toni when she took the anchor position at ESPN. Pepper was in the locker room at halftime, interviewing the quarterback for the Los Angeles Chargers about their first regular season game since losing the Super Bowl to the Houston Heroes.

  It was Shawn’s agent’s idea to have him and Toni host a show together, since it was the incident with her that caused all the hoopla in the first place.

  Shawn had made good on his promise to retire after the next season, and he moved back in with his parents. It was only temporary, while we were having our own house built.

  Actually, it was more than a house. It was an entire corporate retreat in the Santa Monica Mountains, which was why it was taking so long to build. There were eight bungalows for guests to stay in that were dotted along a huge piece of land. We were building houses for our parents (and Susie, of course) and there was a huge main house with an office for me, a library, an insane kitchen and an outdoor lounge. We would have horses and an art studio and other amenities. Shawn was bringing out his driver, his assistant and a couple of other staff from Houston to live and work on our retreat.

  The plan was for our training participants to come and spend a week or so with us (depending on the training program) so that we didn’t have to travel to them.

  The videos of Shawn singing to me had gotten twenty million views on YouTube, and now everywhere I went people would sing the stupid song to me.

  My dad had actually become an internet sensation of his own, as he’d started a channel called Plant Based Papa. My mom was putting out a cookbook and everything,

  “And, that’s a wrap. Good show everyone.”

  Shawn took out his earpiece and unplugged his mic and came over to where I was standing. “Hey Lauren. How was the show?”

  “Great, as usual.” I kissed him and gave him a quick hug. “Are you ready?”

  “I am! Let’s do this.”

  Two hours later, we were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” on the dance floor at the Biltmore, under the sign that said “Pasadena High School Class of 2009.”

  The song ended and Kelly Whitney came up on stage. “I just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who came out tonight for our class reunion. It is so great to see everyone again. And I want to make a special callout to our hometown hero, Super Bowl and ESPN television star Shawn Ryan. We always knew he was an MVP! And also to Lauren Gordon. They were voted Most Likely to Come to the Reunion Together, and here they are!”

  The crowd cheered and the spotlight came down on us, and Shawn smiled and waved. Chet Erickson and his wife both gave us a thumbs up.

  “Okay, let’s get back to the music. Oh, and the bar is still open for another hour, so get in line!”

  The familiar refrains of Michael Buble came on and I wrapped my arms around Shawn.

  “You know what I think …” I said.

  “I think that we …” he said.

  We laughed and he said, “Ladies first.”

  “No, let’s say it at the same time,” I said.

  “Okay. On the count of three. One … two … three.”

  “Let’s get married,” we both said at the exact same time. And then we kissed, to seal the deal.

  Protective Professor

  A Secret Teacher Romance

  1

  Tired

  Rosalinda Carlisle sat in her office and yawned. It had already been a long day, and it was looking to become a lot longer for her. There was so much that needed to be done. Papers needed grading, and she wasn’t even teaching full time. She hadn’t been doing that since all of this started.

  It was one of the drawbacks of being a low-level professor who had just finished her Ph.D. four years before. She could have gone into research in physics, but had decided against it because the school had offered her research prospects in a situation she was comfortable with. This was the school where she had gotten her degree, after all. She had worked for a couple years in the private sector before coming back to the school. She did so much better as a teacher, even if it meant focusing on early classes and researching through the school. It was quite the pay cut, too, but it was worth it. New Mexico State University was a great school in her hometown of Las Cruces, New Mexico, and it was a place where she belonged. This was her home.

  Now, she was enjoying the quiet of her office hours before she headed to work on her research project. It was never long before a student popped into her office for help with homework. It was always the same set of students, the ones who didn’t need a lot of help or were just happy to have a female professor closer to their age to talk to. And Rosalinda was there for that.

  Sure enough, she didn’t have much time for peace before one of her female students was at the door. Rosalinda offered a smile. “How are you doing?”

  “Just a little problem with that question about mass on the homework, P
rofessor Carlisle,” said the girl.

  “Which one?” Rosalinda motioned to the seat across from her. “A lot of the questions were on mass.”

  The girl took a seat, then laughed and shrugged. “I guess all of them.”

  “Sure. Let’s take a look,” the professor nodded. She had been helping with this sort of thing a lot lately. Low-level physics students struggled a lot with the subjects themselves, but this girl struggled with confidence in the subject. She didn’t lack ability. “You know that I never mind helping,” Rosalinda said.

  “I know,” said the girl.

  “Then why so shy?”

  “I guess it’s just strange to ask for help sometimes,” the student confessed, wiggling nervously in her seat. “I never had this kind of trouble back in high school.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Everyone needs help and you seem really dedicated to learning it all.” Rosalinda thought about it, then added, “I mean, you aren’t the only student to have to deal with that. A lot of students do.”

  “No one else seems to be having this problem,” the younger woman groaned in frustration.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know it.”

  Rosalinda shook her head. “Just because they don’t talk about it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  The student sighed heavily. “Why not?”

  “Because, just like you, they feel embarrassed. What hurts is when people are so embarrassed that they’re not going to get the help that they need.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “I guess this isn’t so bad then.”

  “Then never be afraid to ask me a question about it.”

  “I’ll try not to be.”

  Rosalinda offered a smile. It seemed to put the girl at ease. “So, why don’t you tell me what the problem with this is?”

  The girl sat down. “I guess I don’t really get the equations, so it’s a little difficult.”

  “Is this a problem of not knowing what equations to use when?”

  “Yeah, it’s hard to tell.” The young woman nodded.

  The professor felt a twinge of guilt wash through her. She remembered those days well: The constant doubt that she was screwing it all up. “Well, I have a trick for that,” she said. “I had the same problem when I first started.”

  “Is this the whole thing about pulling out the relevant information?” the girl asked.

  “Yeah, I pull all units out separately.”

  “Ah, yeah. That new professor does the same thing.”

  “It seems to be a popular method. And with the sciences, it’s important to keep track of what you have and what you need so you can figure out how to math it out.”

  The girl nodded. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that it’s a little difficult to figure it all out, that’s all.” Rosalinda let the student ramble on a while. “And sometimes it’s a little distracting.”

  “What is?”

  The girl fiddled with the cover of her physics book. She was one of the rare few who still bought the physical books instead of eBooks. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “If it’s personal, don’t let me pry.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I was a student once too.” Rosalinda offered a smile.

  “It’s just, ugh, I hate this. But one of the new professors is super hot. It’s hard to focus.”

  Rosalinda chuckled at that. “I had that problem when I was in college.”

  “Really?”

  “You think hot professors only started this year?”

  “I guess not. I just didn’t think about it.”

  “Don’t worry. It gets easier.”

  “You sure?” the girl asked.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” the professor replied. “In the meantime, if there’s any problem, you can come to me. I know other things, too.”

  “How good are you with chemistry?”

  “It’s pretty connected with physics. I may be able to do some stuff to help with that. I do some research with the chemistry department.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, because my specialty is nuclear physics, so that means I deal with chemistry a lot.”

  “The very small part of physics, right?”

  “Yeah. I focus on the very small instead of the very large.”

  The girl nodded. “Yeah, I remember that lecture. Macro versus micro and all that stuff.”

  “Good. I think we got this down.” Rosalinda started to work through the assignment, carefully letting the student walk her way through to find the answer, and it helped. Or at least, it seemed to.

  By the time it was over, the girl gave Rosalinda a more confident smile. “Thanks a lot for this. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s not a problem at all. Don’t worry about it,” she waved it off as the student left the office, and she was left alone.

  She vaguely considered taking a nap, but decided against it, instead working her way through some paperwork that had been waiting on her to get done. Soon, she found her office hours were over, and she was in her car and heading home. But there was one stop to make on the way.

  Rosalinda parked in front of the house and walked up before knocking.

  “Mom’s here!” she heard the shout from the other side.

  “Right on time!” she called out.

  The door opened, and a blond seven-year-old kid flung himself into her arms. “Mommy!”

  “Dominick!” she shouted right back at him.

  “How was school?” he asked her.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she laughed.

  “It was great!” Dominic exclaimed. “We made our own snack today!”

  “What did you make?”

  “Ants on a log!” he said proudly.

  “Oh, what’s that?” she played along like she didn’t know; it was so much more fun when he explained things.

  “So, it’s really easy,” Dominick said. “You take some celery. And you put peanut butter in it. And then you put raisins on top.”

  “That sounds amazing,” Rosalinda said.

  “Can we make it?”

  “I don’t think I have all the stuff for it.”

  “Can we stop somewhere?”

  “How about…” She paused and thought about it. “We do that when we go pick up some frozen pizzas for dinner?”

  “Pizza!” he jumped into her arms again, and she laughed.

  “Let’s get you into the car.”

  “Ok!” the boy rushed to the car. He was her son, tried and true, and she loved him more than anyone else in the world. She loved to watch him when he was happy.

  A part of her felt guilty for scheduling her office hours later. It would have been possible for her to do this kind of work while he was at school, but she wanted to stagger her office hours to make sure she matched several different student schedules.

  Kim, Rosalinda’s sister-in-law, appeared at the door. “He forgot his backpack.”

  Rosalinda smiled. “He always does.” Kim was a stay-at-home mom. She earned a little bit of money babysitting for a few people during the week after school got out, and Rosalinda took advantage of it. Kim was supremely good with kids, so Rosalinda knew that everything was going to be just fine. But she did miss her son more than anything. He was the love of her life, even when being a single mother was hard. She practically rushed to help him into the car so they could head back home.

  But first, there was a trip to the store. “Mommy!”

  “What?”

  “Can we have chips?” Dominick looked hopeful.

  “How about an apple?” Rosalinda offered a compromise. But she didn’t blame the kid. Maybe they didn’t have the best eating habits, but she did her best most of the time. Still, moments like this made her feel somewhat guilty.

  She reminded herself that it was just an occasional treat, and that her son didn’t have to eat perfectly every single day.

&nbs
p; The boy pouted as he provided a solution that soothed her guilt. “Apple chips?”

  She softened with a laugh. “I think we could do that. And at least pretend to be healthy tonight.”

  “Auntie Kim always makes me eat healthy stuff.”

  “I know she does. She’s a good auntie for caring about you.”

  “Brussel sprouts are bad,” declared Dominick.

  “But they’re good for you, young man.” Rosalinda tried to fight the smile that was taking over her face as they stopped in the freezer section. “What do you want on your pizza?”

  “Cheese.” He pointed at a random pizza like it was the one that he wanted.

  “No toppings?” She looked. He hadn’t even pointed at a cheese pizza.

  “Cheese is yummy.”

  She laughed loudly as they picked up the groceries and headed to check out. The lady there made small talk with both of them before they headed to the car and finally to the house. It had been a long day, and she could feel it wearing on her.

  The house was small, just two bedrooms, but the perfect size for the two of them. Rosalinda had never dated from the time her son was born, instead making her entire life about the boy and her work. And she had worked hard to do the things that most young women would do.

  “Mommy!” Dominick pulled her out of her thoughts by tugging on her shirt.

  “What’s up, little man?”

  “Pizza!”

  “I’m working on it right now.” She took the groceries into the kitchen to start putting a few things away before heading to put the pizza in the oven. She was happy. It was early enough in the day that she could bathe the little boy in her care, and then put him to sleep. She glanced at a bottle of wine, wondering if it was worth having a glass of it while she thought about what kind of future she would have.

  Her mind wandered over the hot new professor at the school. She hadn’t met him, but from what she had heard, he was definitely worth a peek.

  She shook her head and decided against it. She had no interest in men anymore. She had her son, and there had never been another; not before or after the boy’s father.