“Miss Fields, Robbie keeps yanking on my hair and it hurts,” Annaleise, one of Serena’s third-grade students, complained from her desk in the middle of the classroom. “Tell him to stop.”

Serena glanced up from the spelling papers she was grading, not surprised that the eight-year-old boy sitting behind Annaleise, who was supposed to be reading quietly, had a guilty look plastered on his face. It also didn’t help that he was looking toward the front of the room like a deer caught in headlights—a very guilty deer at that.

“Robbie, please stop pulling on Annaleise’s braid and keep your hands to yourself, or I’m going to have to move you up front,” Serena said calmly, giving the little boy his one and only warning.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied solemnly, his face a bright pink at now being the center of unwanted attention.

Serena didn’t miss the small, satisfied look on Annaleise’s face as they both picked up their chapter books and continued to silently read along with the rest of the class. With it being well into the second semester of the school year, Serena knew all of her students well enough to distinguish each child’s personality. Robbie wasn’t a bully. He just had a little boy crush on Annaleise, and it didn’t help matters that the little girl sometimes encouraged the attention and at other times tattled on him, like today.

Serena hid a smile as she returned to grading the papers in front of her. Annaleise and Robbie reminded her a great deal of her and Dylan at that age. Mostly mischievous and playful, but there had been moments of antagonizing one another, as well. They’d squabbled like best friends did, but always resolved their differences.

It wasn’t until their freshman year in high school that their friendship started to change, and Dylan was more careful with what had once been innocent flirtations and touches between them. Instead, she’d watched him use that Stone family charm and those panty-dropping dimpled smiles on other girls and keep his interaction with her strictly platonic. That had been her first real introduction to envy and jealousy, because she’d hated watching him with those other girls.

She’d always hoped that he’d see her as more than just his best girl friend, but it never happened. While she’d secretly yearned for him, he’d enjoyed all the perks and female flattery his gorgeous good looks had afforded him . . . until one day, the carefree life as he’d known it had come crashing down around him, and the close-knit, loving family he’d taken for granted had splintered apart at the seams.

The first shock had been the day his mother had been diagnosed with stage-two breast cancer . . . followed shortly thereafter by his father’s affair with a woman fifteen years younger than him coming to light. Instead of choosing to stick by the woman he’d married when she needed him the most and being there for the sons they were raising together, Dylan’s father asked for a divorce because the woman he was screwing around with was pregnant.

Serena clearly remembered how devastated and angry Dylan had been when it all happened. While Serena had grown up without a father and was used to a selfish mother who hadn’t made her daughters a priority because she’d been more concerned about finding her next meal ticket, that hadn’t been the case for Dylan. Up until that point in his life, he’d believed that his family was solid as a rock, and his father’s actions and choices had changed him from the happy-go-lucky boy he’d been into a man who was a bit jaded, cautious when it came to relationships, and guarded with his emotions.

He was a man who didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters—as he’d made clear on more than one occasion, and most recently the night of the Darren fiasco during that vulnerable moment when she’d asked Dylan why she couldn’t find someone like him. No, marriage and kids weren’t on his radar at all, and Serena refused to settle for anything less than the total package. Even if she was growing weary of all the years she’d spent dating dozens of Mr. Wrongs.

The recess bell rang just as Chelsea, her friend and a part-time substitute teacher at the school, stepped into her class. Serena stood up from her desk as her students quietly but quickly formed a single line by the back door in the room that led to the playground, each child knowing that their good behavior and following the rules Serena had set the first week of school would give them their ticket to fifteen minutes of freedom. Any tussles, arguments, or rambunctious antics, and they’d spend their recess sitting at their desks writing an essay instead.

Serena was always relieved when they behaved, because she needed the break just as much as they did, and today they were perfect little angels. She opened the metal door, and once they were outside, they scattered in different directions. The last thing she heard as the door was closing was Annaleise, who was with two other girls, turn to Robbie and say, “Let’s play tag and you’re it!”, which prompted the little boy to chase after her, just as she wanted.

Clearly, Annaleise was already mastering the art of playing hard to get.

“You run a tight ship in this classroom, Miss Fields,” Chelsea teased, leaning a hip against Serena’s desk.

Serena shrugged as she walked to the whiteboard spanning the wall behind her desk. “I love kids, but chaos doesn’t work for me, and I’ve learned that if I set down rules and have consequences, nine times out of ten I get law and order from my students. It’s that simple.”

Chelsea turned where she was perched to keep Serena in her view. “Some of the other teachers could learn a thing or two from you.”

“We all have our own way of doing things.” Picking up the dry eraser, she swiped it over the glossy whiteboard, erasing that morning’s lesson on the differences between action verbs, linking verbs, and helping verbs. “How’s Mr. Snyder’s class behaving for you today while he’s gone?”

“Not nearly as well as yours,” she said with a laugh. “Sixth graders are such a pain in the ass.”

Serena grinned over her shoulder at her friend as she picked up a black marker and uncapped the tip. “Yeah, at that age they’re harder to train because all those hormones are starting to kick into gear. Mood swings, estrogen and testosterone in the air, bodies changing, and fun rebellious attitudes to deal with. Good times.”

“And that’s why I’m a substitute teacher,” Chelsea said with humor as Serena wrote today’s math equations on the board for her class to do after recess. “I move on before they truly get on my nerves.”

Serena much preferred having one class for a year with the same students. Because despite the occasional pandemonium, she enjoyed bonding with her kids. She liked being that stable influence in their lives and someone they could trust.

“So, what are you doing on Saturday?” Chelsea asked her.

Serena thought ahead to her weekend calendar, which was woefully empty, except for the laundry and grocery shopping she needed to get done. “Not much. What’s up?”

“Well, Ava and I are having a small get-together with friends. Just an afternoon barbeque at our place, and it’s completely casual,” she said of herself and her other friend and roommate. “Aaaand, there might be a guy there that I think you’d hit it off with really well.”

Serena abruptly stopped writing on the board and turned to face her friend. “Are you setting me up on a blind date?” she asked incredulously.

She gave Serena an impish grin. “Maybe?” Laughter infused her voice.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Chelsea knew how badly things had ended with Darren, which was only three weeks ago. And even though she wasn’t nursing a broken heart over the breakup, she dreaded the thought of starting the entire getting-to-know-you ritual all over again. God, she was a serial dater and hated it.

“You gotta get back in the saddle at some point.”

Finished with the math problems, she recapped her marker and set it on her desk, her gaze now on her friend. “Is that saddle reference any indication of his personality?” she asked, only half joking. “Like, are we dealing with a donkey? A.k.a. an ass?”

Chelsea cracked up. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“How do you know him?” Serena asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Yes, she was interrogating her friend. That’s how skittish she’d become of being “set up” with a “great guy.”

“I don’t know him personally,” she admitted. “He works as a pharmaceutical rep with Ava, but in in a different division. But she’s assured me that he’s legitimate.”

“Legitimate?” Serena repeated, her tone skeptical. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he has his shit together. Ashton is in his early thirties, has a stable, great-paying job, and he just bought his own place, which already makes him a better catch than Darren.” She grinned.

Serena still wasn’t convinced. If the guy was such a catch, then why was he still single? Ugh. See, this was what she’d been reduced to . . . being cynical about men. But she knew her judgment of Ashton wasn’t fair, because the same could be said for her. She’d like to think that she had a lot of favorable qualities to offer a man, but she was still unmarried, as well, with a long list of terminated relationships to her credit. So, really, who was she to be a critic?

The recess bell rang, indicating that break time was nearly over. Within a few minutes, her kids would be lined up outside the classroom and hopefully ready to focus on math for the next forty minutes.

“Quit overthinking things, Serena,” Chelsea said, trying to diffuse her hesitation. “It’s not an actual date and there’s no pressure. You’re just meeting Ashton at a casual barbeque, and if the two of you hit it off, great. If not, no big deal.”

And maybe, if she was really lucky, she’d have a date to take with her to Leo and Peyton’s upcoming wedding. “Fine. Okay,” she finally relented as she headed for the back door to let in her class. “I’ll go to your barbeque this weekend and meet Ashton.”

And hoped she didn’t end up regretting her decision.