Crosscheck

by Rebecca Connolly

Mara pressed the play button and moved back to the front of the room. “Okay, cooldown music is starting, and Hope, can you come help me?”

  Hope grinned and left her faux twin Claire to come up beside Mara, her braided pigtails bouncing wildly.

  Gosh, this girl was adorable. Mara grinned down at her, amazed at how much of Zane she could see there.

  Gah. No Zane. Not here, not now.

  “Okay,” she said quickly as she faced the class again. “First up: stretch up really high on your toes and try to reach your head to the sky.”

  The result would have been hilarious if anyone were recording it.

  “Tiptoes, tiptoes, stretch the neck . . .” Mara told them, barely restraining laughter. “And now your arms are elephant trunks, hang ’em down!”

  The kids all drooped their arms, swinging them from side to side, almost dragging their hands across the floor. They giggled as their arms bumped into each other, and a few started making elephant noises.

  Mara smiled as she watched them, loving the entertainment they found in the simplest things. “And now we are gorillas! Swing those arms forward and walk!”

  A bunch of imitation gorillas strode around the room, grunting and making all kinds of faces. A few of the boys thumped their chests, making Mara chuckle.

  “Sloths!” Mara called out, dropping down to all fours. “Verrrrrrry slowwwwwww in everyyyyyyythinggggggg.”

  Now the giggles were everywhere as motions became exaggerated and slow, arms and legs stretching out dramatically. A few kids even turned on their backs and pretended the sloth was running upside down. Slowly, of course.

  Random, but it worked.

  Mara whistled loudly, bringing them all back to her. “Now be a seal!” She lay on her stomach, then arched her back, pointing her nose to the ceiling. “A circus seal. You have to balance an ice cream cone on your nose!”

  “Seals don’t balance ice cream cones!” Hope giggled beside her, trying to mimic the movement.

  “This one does,” Mara shot back. “Who else is doing it? Arf!”

  Barks around the room echoed back to her, followed by more giggles.

  “Swimming frog!” Mara balanced on her stomach and did a slow frog kick and stroke in the air.

  This one was harder for the kids, but they went for it, as usual, and ribbits and croaks, of course, came with it.

  Shaking her head, Mara exhaled, glancing up at the clock. “Okay, and who can tell me what an ostrich does with sand?”

  “Puts its head down in it!” Claire called out.

  “That’s right, so now . . .” She pushed her hips up in the air, keeping her head and hands down by the floor. “We’re ostriches with our heads in the sand!”

  This one the kids loved, and they laughed at seeing each other upside down.

  Mara looked over at Hope, who looked over at her. “Hey, upside-down Hope. How are you?”

  Hope snickered and knocked one of her dangling braided pigtails out of her face. “Hi, upside-down Miss Mara. I’m fine!”

  “Oh. I thought you were Hope, but hi, Fine!” Mara winked as Hope laughed again.

  Lowering her hips, Mara rolled herself to a seated position and clapped her hands, grinning widely. “Okay, kiddos, we are done! Don’t forget your jackets and water bottles. You can head on out of here, and make sure you visit Miss Hannah for your treat!”

  The kids cheered and called out their thanks as they started to move from the floor to their belongings along the wall.

  Mara sighed to herself and craned her neck, one hand gripping the back of it tightly.

  Sleep last night had not been kind to her, and there was one reason for that. Just one.

  Zane Winchester.

  More specifically, guilt over Zane Winchester.

  As fun as the game last night had been, as amazing as it was to watch him play, as exhilarating as it was to be with him afterwards . . . there was guilt. There was so much guilt she hadn’t eaten breakfast.

  She was fluttery, flustered, and flirting with Zane Winchester.

  Flirting.

  Mara didn’t even know how to flirt! She was just awkward and bantering, snarky as her usual defense mechanism against embarrassment, and it wasn’t until she was grinning, squealing, and flushed on the drive home that she had recognized the thing for what it was.

  The Mara Matthews rendition of flirting.

  Horrifying didn’t even begin to describe what had washed over her then. A man who was by all accounts spoken for, whose daughter was her student, who happened to hit it off with her parents better than any of Mara’s boyfriends ever had, who played professional hockey like he was the god of ice combined with the Gorgon who fought the god of ice, and who looked like the epitome of temptation and gloriousness before, during, and after said fight.

  Her cheeks flamed, and she fanned herself, swallowing hard and wishing her bottle of water were beside her instead of across the room. Not to drink but to dump over her head.

  “Did the cooldown not work for you, Miss Mara? You’re still all red.”

  Mara looked up at the concerned face of Hope Winchester and felt her ears heat more than her face had. “I’m always red for longer than I should be, sweetie. I’m fine.”

  “Okay,” Hope said slowly, and too knowingly for a girl of five. “Can I stack the mats for you?”

  That softened Mara, and she smiled. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  She watched as Hope picked up the puzzle-piece-shaped mats and began stacking them in the corner.

  Such a sweet girl from such a sweet man.

  Sweet in behavior, sweet for the eyes . . .

  That chilling, sick feeling dropped back down Mara’s throat and into her stomach, making her sway where she sat.

  She was doomed, and she would be doomed until she could make this right. She had been up half the night trying to find a way to atone for her error of judgment and behavior, her sin against humankind, and the stain upon her character.

  Confession.

  Except confession came with confrontation, which was not Mara’s favorite thing in the world. In fact, it was her least favorite thing in the world. It was actually the thing that she had spent her entire life avoiding, both in childhood and adulthood. She was very, very good at avoiding confrontation.

  And now she was taking it on. Directly. Intentionally. Willingly.

  To confess. About her fascination with Zane Winchester. And at least seven dreams about him.

  Maybe eight.

  She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, hoping a quick meditation might help her to get over this sensation that she was going to throw up and die a painful death.

  If a quick meditation was a thing.

  Inhale . . . Exhale . . . Inhale . . . Exhale . . .

  “Hopey-Dope, time to skedaddle, babes. Full day ahead.”

  Mara’s throat clenched in a terrifying spasm as her eyes flew open, moving to the doorway to the room at once.

  Perfection stood there, perfectly coordinated, perfectly glistening, perfectly smiling.

  There was a zit forming on Mara’s chin just from her envy, she was positive.

  And possibly her guilt.

  It was time.

  Mara got to her feet, her kneecaps suddenly gone and her toes numb. But she walked on those wobbly, gangly, kneecap-less legs and moved to face Perfection head on, even while her ears felt like they were actually pulling her backwards. Away from confrontation, confession, and perfection.

  Just . . . away.

  “Hi,” Mara heard herself bleat, waving in the most awkward manner possible. “Hi there, I’m Mara. Mara Matthews.”

  Perfection looked at her and beamed. “Oh my gosh, hi!” she twanged in the most perfect twang known to a Southern woman ever. “Josie Winchester. And you should hear the way Little Miss Hope goes on about you. She is just in heaven in this class. Me and her daddy will never get her to do anything else on a Saturday, so I hope you aren’t thinking of ending this class ever.”


  Mara laughed awkwardly, but managed a smile for Hope. “Heh. No, no, I don’t think I will be stopping soon, it’s a nice break from my life. And um . . .” She paused, clearing her throat. “I actually, uh . . . I need to talk to you.” She swallowed hard. “About Hope’s dad.”

  Josie’s brows lowered, and her perfect smile turned into a look of disgust. “Great.” She looked in Hope’s direction, blond ponytail tossing perfectly. “Hopey, what did your fool of a daddy do now?”

  “How should I know?” Hope demanded in a voice too mature for her age.

  Josie gave the little girl a hard look. “He’s your daddy.”

  Hope propped a hand on her hip. “Well, he’s your cousin.”

  Mara had been following the conversation like a tennis match, but now she froze from head to toe.

  He was what?

  “Oof,” Josie said with a wince. “That’s true. I have known him longer.” She sighed and turned to Mara with an apologetic smile. “Whatever it is or was, I am so sorry on behalf of the entire family. Please don’t judge me by my cousin.”

  Mara stared at her in amazement, struggling to form words. “Cousin?” she eventually managed. “You’re his . . . ?”

  “Yes,” Josie replied slowly, a wrinkle creasing her brow. Then it smoothed as her brows shot up, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Lawd have mercy . . . You didn’t . . . you didn’t think I was Z’s trophy wife, did you?”

  “Well, I . . .”

  “You did!” Josie overrode, her tone darkening. She turned to Hope with another dark look. “Hopey, that’s it. I’m gonna kill your daddy.”

  “Not again . . .” Hope groaned.

  Josie shook her head, jaw visibly tightening. “If he would get himself a girlfriend, or maybe even date, then I might actually get a date once in a while myself instead of being mistaken for that. Trophy wife. I can tell you, I would be an absolute trophy for whatever lucky man nabbed me.” She huffed and sputtered through her lips. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

  Hope watched her father’s cousin with wide eyes. “Josie-Jo, you’re being crazy.”

  That seemed to break Josie out of her tirade, and she put a hand to her brow. “I know. I know, I’m sorry.” She smiled for Mara again, and Perfection was back in place. “Sorry, Miss Mara. Now, what did you need to tell me about Zane?”

  At the moment, she was rather inclined to sing praises and break into rather uncoordinated dance moves, if not pass out from being joyously lightheaded.

  Thankfully, none of those things happened.

  Mara shook her head with a kind smile instead of hugging this wonderful woman before her. “Nothing. Just wanted to remind him of the daddy-daughter day next week. I know he can be private, but I wanted to make sure he had the opportunity.”

  Josie flashed a quick grin. “Perfect. He’ll be in town, so I’ll make sure he knows. Hope would love to have him there, wouldn’t you, hon?”

  “Yeah!” Hope jumped up and down in her excitement, sending her pigtail braids bouncing again.

  Mara had to laugh, and Josie did as well. “Come on, monkey. Your dad texted that he’s going to run some quick errands, and then he’ll meet us at home.” She smiled at Mara with genuine warmth. “Nice to meet you officially, Mara.”

  “You too,” Mara told her, hoping her relief at saying so wasn’t completely obvious.

  She watched as the two of them left the room, then released a very slow, almost steady breath.

  He is single.

  Not that it mattered all that much, as he would still have to find her attractive and interesting and a dozen other things for his relationship status to have any real effect on her life.

  But he was single.

  Single.

  Holy crap, the man was single.

  The man who had walked towards her and her parents last night with a warm smile, his leather jacket doing nothing to hide the utterly perfect fit of his T-shirt, and whose banter had made Mara dizzy with delight.

  He was single.

  It took a moment for her to realize her mouth was moving up and down, opening and closing like a fish. Well, she was pathetic, and that was all that could be said for her. She shut off the lights to the room and headed for the locker rooms, feeling the need for a shower.

  Though she wasn’t sure if it should be hot or cold.

  Either. Both. First one, then the other.

  As long as she was fast, it didn’t matter all that much. It was cold enough outside to do the trick.

  She hurried through showering and changing, then waved bye to the trainers, especially the ones indicating she should come lift with them.

  Not today, not after this discovery.

  She wanted to run out and get her hair done, get a manicure, get her teeth whitened, and buy an entirely new wardrobe. She didn’t have the money to do any of those things, of course, so she would settle for the next-best things.

  Chocolate and carbs.

  Her car warmed up quickly, and the seat warmer was her best friend as she turned up the music to belt out whatever was on. It was stupid, and it was naive, but she suddenly felt more free than she had ever felt in her entire life. No more guilt, no more burden, no more reason to turn or look away.

  She could look at Zane Winchester all she wanted and enjoy what she saw.

  There was a thought for the ages.

  Clearing her throat of its suddenly rather awkward lump, Mara pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket and quickly found a spot. The best place to get chocolate and carbs would be at the bakery, and she had every intention of doing so, but if she wanted to eat anything at her house later, she would need groceries. She gasped at the frigid air as she made her way to the store, and she hustled inside, releasing a satisfied exhale when she walked through the gust of heat in the entry.

  She grabbed a basket and began to dart around the aisles, picking up what she could remember needing, wishing she had thought ahead enough to make a list. Still, aside from her insanely picky taste in bread, it shouldn’t be too difficult to grab things she was sure she either needed now or would need shortly. That and visit the candy aisle, which would take up most of her time. The best candy shopping would come a few days after Valentine’s Day, as everything would be on sale, but her supply was low now, and she would need to restock.

  With a quick step, she headed down the next aisle, her attention focused on the peanut butter she was going to pick up in a very smooth motion without stopping, when a motion to her right caught her eye.

  Just a guy reaching for a frozen pizza on the opposite side of the aisle—and she smiled ruefully at the stereotype.

  Then he turned to put it in the cart, and Mara stopped dead in her tracks.

  Zane.

  She’d have to go by him to get her peanut butter, if she really wanted it, and there was no way any smooth motion would be involved now.

  No freaking way.

  He’s single.

  Mara shushed her brain with a scowl. As if that statement would help anybody right now.

  Quick, act natural!

  She turned to her left and looked at the row of jams next to her, pretending she was actually seeing them and caring about what she saw. Cautiously, she took one step forward, then another, until a steady motion was reached and she didn’t feel so robotic.

  Just when she thought he might not notice her, and all of this would be for nothing, she heard his squeaking cart stop.

  “Well, well, well. Of all the grocery stores in all the towns . . .”

  Mara’s smile was one of relief just as much as it was one of delight, but she tucked it back as she turned to look at the grinning facade of a very attractive man in a dark hoodie. “Hmm. We really need to stop meeting like this.”

  Zane lifted a brow. “What, on accident?”

  “Uh-huh.” Mara nodded, moving her basket from her arm to both hands, dangling it casually in front of her. “I might start thinking you’re following me.”

 
; “You showed up at my game, Mara,” he reminded her, his smile turning crooked. “I was there first.”

  “Maybe I liked the Hounds long before you played for them.” She shrugged her shoulders, her smile getting harder to hide. “Accidental sighting still.”

  Zane nodded slowly, his lips pursing in thought while mischief danced in his eyes. “Well, I could always meet up with you on purpose. Save fate the trouble, keep my reputation free from the accusation of stalking.”

  Mara’s heart screeched to the right side of her chest, held in place only by the now-bruised ribs. “You wouldn’t want to do that. Might start something.”

  “It might,” he agreed, nodding one more time. “I’m actually hoping it might.”

  Uhh, what?

  The smile Mara had been fighting wavered against her cheeks. “Really?” she asked, her playful tone nowhere in sight. Only cold fear blended with hope remained.

  “I did offer to take you out last night,” he reminded her as he leaned against the handle of his cart. “With your parents, I might add, and I’d have happily entertained you all and made a good impression, if for no other reason than to prove a point.”

  “Wh-what point?”

  Well, that wasn’t a flirtatious response. Her face flamed at her complete awkwardness in front of him.

  He saw it, his eyes darting to various parts of her face, his smile now tinged with something that made her toes bunch up in her tennis shoes.

  “To be determined,” Zane drawled. “Now, are you going to take me up on an intentional meeting? You already turned me down once. A second time, and I might think it’s personal.”

  Mara swallowed hastily, desperate to regain some footing in this conversation. “Do you always take people out after your games just because you know them?”

  “Only when I want to get to know them better,” he retorted, completely unperturbed. “And only when I can’t get them out of my head.”

  Whatever reply Mara had started to make vanished when he said that. She stared at him, filled with wonder on the inside while her outside, she was sure, displayed overt speculation and disbelief.

  Not necessarily attractive, but real.

  Hadn’t he said he liked real?

  Real she could handle.

  “Yikes,” she said without thinking, which was as real as she could get. “Me in your head.” She hissed, making a face. “Sounds scary.”