Half of me wants to cry and the other half wants to dance around his unconscious body.

It was a total accident. All I did was deflect his ball—the ball he launched like a nuclear missile at my head. I had no control over where it bounced to.

Jaxon won’t see it that way though. Then again, he might not see much if his eye keeps swelling like it is.

I kneel down beside him, my hand involuntarily reaching out to stroke his hair. “Jaxon? Can you hear me?”

Chris and our teammates keep the families calm and in their seats. Mrs. Wilcox and the rest of Jaxon’s team huddle around us.

“Should we call an ambulance?” I ask.

“Let’s give him a minute and see if he wakes up,” Mrs. Wilcox says. “We don’t want to alarm the children.”

Kerry and Andrea bring over a bottle of water and a few paper towels. I use them to dab cool water on Jaxon’s neck and head.

“Come on, Jaxon. Wake up,” I whisper.

My fingers are still in his hair when his eyelids flutter. Just before they open, he leans into my touch. A low groan rumbles in his throat.

Shit. He must’ve hit his head harder than I thought. “Are … are you okay, Jaxon? Do you know where you are?”

His eyes open and fixate on me. His lips curve into a smirk. “First you steal my ring, then you poison my coffee. Now you try to decapitate me. I’m starting to think you’re an assassin, Raegan.”

“I was just hoping you’d wake up with amnesia.”

He chuckles. “Forget you? Not a chance.”

The crowd cheers as Mrs. Wilcox and I help Jaxon to his feet. Joshua bolts off the bench and wraps his arms around Jaxon’s leg. Jaxon lifts him up in a bear hug. “I’m okay, buddy. See? Nothing to worry about.”

The crowd oohs and aahs over the two of them.

Jaxon takes the microphone. “Well, folks. Let’s hear it for the winners of this charity game. And to all the boys out there who just witnessed their principal get beat by two girls: Don’t ever underestimate a girl just because she’s a girl.”

Everyone cheers while Jaxon and Joshua pose for pictures.

“I have to give it to him,” Kerry says. “The man is charming.”

“That he is.” And of course the black eye only makes him hotter.

While the gymnasium clears out, I turn around to Michelle. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

“I have three older brothers.” She shrugs. “You get good at dodging and throwing things.”

I laugh. “Is this your first year teaching?”

“It is. Hopefully I made a good impression on our principal by volunteering for this game.”