Page 124 of The Jack*ss in Class

“About her daughter facing public judgment,” he corrected gently. “She’s seen how cruel the world can be, especially to women who don’t conform to expectations.”

I thought about that, about the protective fury that had colored my mother’s reaction. Maybe there was something more complex at work than simple disapproval.

“Your abuela tells me you had a meeting in Los Angeles,” he continued, changing the subject slightly. “With the people who want to adapt your books.”

I nodded, still processing his words. “They’ve made an offer. A good one.”

“And what about your football player? Does he figure into your future plans too?”

“It’s possible,” I admitted.

My father nodded approvingly. “Good. You should go where your work takes you, where your opportunities lie. You can live anywhere in the world and write your books.”

“You think I should leave Denver?” I asked, surprised.

“I think you should spread your wings,” he said simply. “See more of the world than just Colorado and Oaxaca. Experience different places, different people. It will only enrich your writing. Perhaps even visit the home of the bard himself.”

I considered his words, the implicit permission to go, to explore, to build a life beyond what had been planned for me.

“I’ve been spending time with your donkey,” he added, unexpectedly.

“Burrito?” I smiled, picturing my distinguished professor father with the small, mischievous donkey.

“Yes. He’s quite a good companion.” My father looked slightly embarrassed. “I’ve been reading Shakespeare to him. We started with aMidsummer Night’s Dreamof course.”

The mental image was so absurd and endearing that it made me love him even more. “Papá, that’s adorable.”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I’ve discovered I’m somewhat allergic to him. Nothing severe, just some sneezing, itchy eyes.”

“Oh no.” I stifled back my giggle for my sweet papá who, despite the discomfort, was doting on my baby donkey.

“It’s manageable with medication,” he assured me. “And if you were considering taking him with you, should you decide to leave Denver, I would miss his company.”

Somehow, I didn’t think he was only talking about missing Burrito anymore.

“Thank you, Papá,” I said softly. “That means more than you know.”

That weekend I sprawled across Flynn’s bed after amarathon round of who could get who to come first. We were, of course, supposed to be studying and finishing our makeup work from time missed from classes recently.

But it had been my turn to provide him comfort, distraction, and fun. He’d been so good to me through this crisis, and I wanted to be there for him too.

Flynn smiled, but I could see the tension at the corners of his eyes. Tomorrow was the draft, the culmination of years of work, the moment that would determine where his career would begin. Where he would live. Whether we would be separated by half a continent or potentially living in the same city.

“You’re nervous about tomorrow,” I said, running my fingers up and down his chest, absently counting his abs. Who knew a person could have more than a six-pack?

“That obvious, huh?” He took my hand, his fingers lacing with mine. “Not about getting drafted. That part’s pretty much guaranteed. It’s more about where.”

The unspoken question hung between us. He had a lot of prospects, because he was that good. At least a half dozen teams were gunning for him. But really, the real game was going to be between Denver and LA.

“I realize you could end up anywhere,” I said carefully. “But have you decided what you want?”

Flynn sat up, his expression suddenly serious. “Honestly? I want to play pro ball. I want to go somewhere that values me, and if I get Gryff as a package deal, that would be amazing. I want to make my family proud.” He paused, his eyes holding mine. “And I want you.”

My heart stuttered. “Flynn?—”

“I know it’s complicated,” he continued. “I know yourlife is here, your family, your sorority, everything. But Tempest... these past few months with you have been the best of my life. Whatever happens tomorrow, I want us to figure out how to be together.”

I leaned into him, my hand finding his. “What if you get drafted to Miami? That’s on the other side of the country.”

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