All I do know is that I think she could be the one to help me figure out what’s best for Ryan. For starters, she’s actually listening to me, seeing me as a person instead of an NFL legend—instead of The Hartbreak Kid. It’s refreshing.
“Please,” I add when the woman draws in a breath and shakes her head. “Help a lost guy out. Help Ryan. I feel like you’re the only one who can. You’re the first person to make me feel like I have a fighting chance.”
Chapter 4
Stacy
Jake Eckhart stares into my soul with those pleading brown eyes of his that would make a nun weak in the knees.
It doesn’t help that he’s not only gorgeous, but he’s also clearly desperate for guidance. He’s every teacher’s fantasy—a single parent in need of help raising a child. What kind of person would I be if I declined to help two people who badly need it?
This is precisely what I went to school for, isn’t it? To make a real difference in the lives of those who need it most.
For a moment I look around, hastily seeking out Principal Walton’s ruddy cheeks, but he’s nowhere to be found. I know if he sees this high-profile parent talking to me, I’ll probably get canned on the spot. I know his warnings aren’t just empty threats. He could replace me without any difficulty whatsoever.
Just about every teacher in the state wants to be in my shoes and St. James Academy has a waiting list of applicants a mile long. That’s probably how I got hired in the first place, someone else not good enough for Principal Walton got the boot.
But even more than just wanting a job like this one, I want to help people, and if I turn my back on Jake and Ryan, I don’t think I’ll be able to look myself in the eye again.
Besides, I'm a smart girl and I’m good at what I do. I can probably figure out some way to help the Eckharts without putting my neck on the line. I can be understanding of the despairing situation Ryan is in without cutting him slack, and I can make sure he gets some extra attention in class.
I suck in a deep breath, trying to organize the hurricane of nerves whirling between my ears. It’s plainly obvious to me that I’m attracted to the devastatingly handsome man, but I need to control my racing pulse and put my desires aside.
“I can get you some resources,” I start to say, keeping my voice low just in case the principal walks around the corner, but Jake groans and shakes his head.
“How many books and pamphlets can there be for uncles who take in the children of their dead sister?” he asks, tone surprisingly bitter. His chin drops. “I don’t need resources, I need help, Stacy. I'm failing Jenny and I can’t seem to figure out how to make any of this better for Ryan.”
His arms fold over his chest, muscles flexing. He’s tense, wound-up like a rubber band about to snap.
“Okay, okay,” I answer softly before looking past Jake at Ryan, who’s still sitting on a nearby bench scribbling on a piece of paper and looking content enough while he waits for his uncle to stop chatting with his teacher.
I exhale as I make a split-second decision to go with my gut.
I discretely pull Jake back into a small alcove where I’d coaxed him through his panic attack earlier. At least here we won’t be in immediate sight of anyone looking to pry. But as he moves closer the space feels too small, intense heat from his perfectly toned body crowding me, making it impossible to think.
I clear my throat and try to focus. “Let’s start with your relationship with your nephew. How is it?”
“Good enough.” He shrugs, blank-faced. “We spend time together when we can but I'm so busy with practice. He’s a good kid though, even if he’s a bit rough around the edges. Reminds me a lot of myself, actually. I lost my parents young.”
I watch as he checks his watch discreetly. He’s probably running late for practice but I appreciate that he’s not trying to hurry this conversation along.
“Then you must know how difficult it is to be young and feel so alone and lost, Jake.”
“I do, but I only got through thanks to my sister pushing me into football. She and the sport kept me out of trouble. I just don’t know how to emulate her for Ryan. She was a one-of-a-kind sister and mother. She was amazing and so compassionate and giving. Me . . . I don’t know how to do that. I’ve always been selfish. Football helped me blow off steam and stay focused on positive things when I was a kid. It gave me hope and a light to follow when I felt like I was going to be swallowed by darkness.”
My head cocks. A stray wind billows over us, nipping my hair from the loose bun nestled at the base of my neck. I push the stray curl diligently back in place. “Well, you said sports helped you a lot. Have you considered getting Ryan into something like that? Is he athletic?”
With a miserable shake of his head, Jake’s massive arms slide from where they’re folded across his chest to hang heavily at his side. “He likes to run around a lot but he’s made it clear that he hates football.”
“Then maybe we don’t pursue football for Ryan. You know, there’s an after-school soccer club that meets twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays in Central Park. You could give that a try. There are lots of kids his age who he can meet while also having some focused fun. It’ll help him sleep better at night too.”
Jake pauses instantly, digging his hands into his pockets. He clears his throat, his cheeks glowing an ashamed red that makes his already handsome face look even more so. Butterflies abruptly flutter through my stomach, almost making me choke. I shake my head, trying to ignore the thoughts about how striking Jake’s brown eyes are and how his smile makes my heart beat faster. These feelings are inappropriate, especially while we’re discussing his nephew’s wellbeing.
“I . . . uh, to be honest, I forgot that there were other sports than football,” Jake stammers. “When Ryan said he wanted nothing to do with a pigskin I just . . . It didn't occur to me to get him to try something else athletic.”
His embarrassment humanizes the prestigious celebrity. I see him, Jake Eckhart. And it’s hard not to like what I see.
“Hey, it’s fine. You’re overwhelmed and suddenly a single dad out of nowhere.” I reach over, gently squeezing his arm, and bolts of electricity surge through my veins. The more I touch him the harder these feelings are to ignore. What’s wrong with me?
I snag my arm back, rubbing the tender skin and flushing pink. Fortunately, Jake seems distracted with his thoughts.
He gazes at me again quietly. “You make this sound so simple, like understanding Ryan is the easiest thing in the world.”
“I’ve just spent a lot more time around children. Believe me, he’s just as much a mystery to me as he is you, but my background is in understanding how to read the signs that he lays out.”
“Right.” Jake squeezes the back of his neck as he looks at his nephew. “You think soccer will help?”
“I do. And you’re in luck. Today is Tuesday. Practice starts in an hour. You should have plenty of time to get to the fields.”
Jake’s head tilts, his worried expression suddenly melting away to reveal an easy smile and a coy glint to his dark eyes. His chin lifts and it’s like he’s put on a mask. His sincerity has vanished, replaced by a polished grin.