My heels click on the polished floor as I make my way to the classroom, the school year—my senior year—just beginning. It’s been over a week since I last set eyes on Harding, and I’m still reeling inside. I can’t believe he’s gone, that he just up and left so easily. I was beginning to think there could be more between us, that we could possibly have a future together. I guess Dad sealed that fate when he brought up Oliver and treated Harding like a lower class citizen.

I step up to the classroom, and stand outside the door for a moment as students shuffle past me. I take a few breaths and gather myself, but how can I possibly stand at that desk—a desk Harding took me on—and lecture? Tears prick my eyes and I blink them back. God, I never should have allowed myself to get in so deep with him. It was sex, nothing more, nothing less, and I would have been wise to remember that. But no, I let my emotions get involved. Honest to God, how could I not? Harding is an amazing man, and what he does for a living doesn’t define him as a person. When it comes right down to it, he’s a better man than my father, because no way in hell would he treat anyone badly or disrespectfully.

My phone pings and I pull it from my pocket. My heart gives a little start, hoping it’s Harding, but he’s not contacted me since he left. I’d considered dragging Sara to New York with me to see his fight, and to fight for him, but from the way he left that day in the coffee shop, not even giving me a last look goodbye, I know it’s over. Going to his fight would only lead to embarrassment and heartache, especially if he stood in the ring and pointed to some other girl. My stomach cramps at that thought.

I slide my hand across the screen, to read Sara’s message. “What are you doing?”

“Going to class,” I text back.

“Looks to me more like you’re standing there, thinking about Harding.”

I turn and find Sara walking toward me. I stuff my phone back into my pocket. “Hey,” I say.

She hikes her bag up higher on her shoulder. “You need to call him.”

“I can’t. It’s over, Sara.” Wanting to talk about something else, and not rehash this conversation again and again, I ask, “How’s Bray?”

A wide grin splits her mouth and I’m happy that she’s happy. The two have been texting non-stop and I really think a relationship is forming. “He’s great. I’m going to see him tonight.”

My mouth drops open. “He’s back? In Seattle?”

She nods. “Harding isn’t fighting anymore, so Bray’s back in the city, and he’s going back to being a first responder.”

My heart misses a beat as worry bombards me. “Why isn’t Harding fighting?” God, I hope it isn’t something I said. Yes, I asked if he wanted to do anything else with his life, but if he wants to fight, he should fight.

“He retired,” she says, and she’s giving me a look that says she knows something I don’t.

I glare at her. “What’s going on?”

She shrugs. “Why don’t we discuss it tonight over a carton of Ben and Jerry’s?”

I eye her for a minute. I know that look. She’s up to something. “Fine,” I say. “You’re buying.” I pull my laptop bag close, and she gives me a hug, but instead of leaving, she stands there watching me. Maybe she’s worried about me. Since I moved into her spare room, she’s been hovering close. Sara is a good friend and I’m lucky I have her.

I take a huge breath, walk into the classroom, and step up to the desk. I set my books down and wave Sara away. “I got this,” I mouth to her, but she still isn’t moving. What the hell?

I work to ignore her and turn toward the students. I give the room a quick scan and glance down at the roll call in front of me.

“Welcome, to Poly Sci 101,” I say. “Please say ‘here’ when I call your name.” I make my way through the list, trying to keep my mind off all the naughty, delicious things I did with Harding on this desk, but when I reach the letter ‘K’ my heart jumps into my throat.

I glance up, and from the back of the classroom I find Harding sitting there, a grin on his handsome face. “I…uh…” I stumble.

“Here,” he says.

I shoot a glance toward the door and Sara gives a little finger wave. Ohmigod, she knew about this and didn’t tell me. I’m going to kill her, and I’m going to kill Harding.

I look back at Harding. What the hell is he doing here? He must be registered as a student if his name is on the list, but why would he do this? He said he never was much of a student so why would he sigh up—for political science 101, at that?

I recover as fast as I can and finish going through the list. I reach the end, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to continue on with the course outline, the assignments, due dates, etc. The clock seems to have stopped as I wait for the hour to end, and I can’t help myself from stealing glances at Harding. I’m not the only one, either. Many of the girls in the class are admiring him, but he doesn’t seem to notice them. No, his attention is on me and me alone. I can’t help but feel a little thrill, but I tamp it down. I don’t want to get too excited. Maybe this is all a coincidence.

I glance at him again and his grin is mischievous, like he’s enjoying this whole awkward situation. Well, two can play his game. As the students read through the outline, I push from the desk and grab the chalkboard pointer. I slap it against my hand, and I’m sure I heard a groan come from the back of the class. I continue to slap it on my hand, and answer questions from the students, and then finally—finally—the bell chimes to indicate the end of class.

The students are about to stand when I say, “Harding, can you please stay for a moment. There is this matter of you being my student that we need to discuss.”

Gazes dart from me to Harding back to me again, but no one questions me. In fact, they all look torward to Harding, fearing he’s in some kind of trouble as they all file out. My shoes click as I follow them to the door, shut it, and set the lock. I turn back to Harding, who is lounging casually in his seat, his long legs spread out before him, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, my heart racing. Is it possible that he’s simply going back to school, or did he sign up for my class on purpose…because he might want…?

I let my thoughts trail off, too afraid to hope.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Why are you here? In my classroom?”

“What, a guy can’t go back to college, earn himself a degree?” His eyes narrow, all humor gone from his face when he adds, “Become the man his girl needs him to be.” He stands and my legs go wobbly as he closes the distance between us. He backs me up against the door, and pulls the shade.

Is he saying I’m his girl?

“Harding…” I begin, needing to get to the bottom of the matter.

“Adeline, it’s like this. I’m crazy about you. I want to be with you on every level. I’m done fighting, and I’m ready to settle down—with you.” I shake my head and he goes still. His jaw clenches. “Please don’t tell me you don’t want that.”

“You didn’t have to change for me.”

“Change? I don’t think I’ve changed so much. I think this is who I’ve always been. It just took the right person to believe in me.”

“But—”

“You’re my girl, Addy, and I told you before, I’d give up a hell of a lot to be with you. I meant it.”

“I don’t want you to give up anything. I want you to be you. I like you the way you are.”

“And what way is that?”

“Kind, sweet, caring, old fashioned gentleman by day, bad boy by night. You even drive a damn Prius to protect the environment.”

“Shh, don’t let word of that get out. I’m a champion fighter with a reputation to uphold, you know.”

I pound against his chest. “Harding, be serious.”

“Okay, how is this for being serious? I’m in love with you. I want to be with you. When I left last week, I did it because I never wanted to do anything to ruin your career, but after a lot of thinking and soul searching, I’m beginning to believe you want the same things as I do. I’m not changing for you, Addy.” He waves to the class. “This is the man I was supposed to be—for us.” He drops a soft kiss on to my mouth. “If you’re going to be president someday, I’m going to need to know a little bit about politics, don’t you think?”

I laugh, my heart filled with love and joy. “You really think I could be president.”

“I think you can be anything you want.”

“I can think you can be too.”

“Right now, though there is only one thing I want to be,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“Your husband. Will you marry me, sweet Katherine Adeline Lewis?”

“On one condition,” I say, trying to keep the excitement from my voice.

His devilish grin widens. “Oh, you have a condition now do you?”

“Yeah. Tell me why you call me by my middle name.”

He takes the poker from my hand, and backs me up until I’m pressed against the desk. My body warms all over, eager anticipation dancing in my veins. He slides a hand around my neck, and holds me as he presses his lips to mine. “Because I like having a special name for a girl as special as you. Something private, between the two of us.”

“You think I’m special?”

“Yes.” He spins me so fast the room sways, and bends me over the desk. “But you’re also bad.”

“How am I bad?” I ask, my voice a breathless whisper.

“Walking around this classroom and slapping this stick against your hand. My cock nearly popped out of my fucking pants.”

“But you’re my student now, so that means I get to use it on you when you misbehave.”

He grips my skirt and lifts it until my ass is exposed. He slaps the stick over my ass, and unzips his pants to slide into me. “How is the for misbehaving?”

I groan with pleasure and splay my hands over the desk. “You’re a very naughty boy, Harding.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“I wouldn’t want you any other way either, Addy.”