Ok here's the next chapter! I hope y'all enjoy it, please leave a comment and let me know what you think! Happy reading! xoxoxo

Around 5:30 that evening, Sandor finally made it back to his own classroom. He and Beric Dondarrion, who served as his assistant coach, along with Davos Seaworth and Tormund Giantsbane, who were the coaches for the junior varsity football team, had spent hours finalizing the roster, practice schedules and other details pertaining to the school's football teams. He was tired and grumpy, and really wanted a drink. But he knew he had to at least get some stuff in his classroom unpacked and organized. Moses followed him into the room and immediately collapsed onto his large dog bed Sandor kept in the corner behind his wooden desk.

As he leaned on the edge of his desk, he surveyed the damage the summer cleaning crew had done. The student desks were stacked haphazardly in the corner. The shelves on the back wall of his classroom held all the boxes he had stored his supplies in over the summer. Posters with differential equations and other formulas useful for a calculus student lined the front wall above his whiteboard and interactive smartboard. His favorite poster was among them, front and center. A student had given it to him a few years back. It was a picture of a frowning, grumpy looking cat in front of a green chalkboard. The big, white words in all capital letters across the top and bottom of the poster read 'I LOVE MATH. IT MAKES PEOPLE CRY.' Sandor had laughed out loud along with his students when the teenage kid had presented it to him on the last day of school. The memory drew a chuckle from Sandor as he began to pull the student desks to the middle of the room to form neat rows. Once he had his desks arranged the way he liked them and had unpacked a few boxes, Sandor decided to call it a night. Moses followed him down the hallway out into the parking lot. The daylight was fading and most of the teachers had gone home for the night. Sandor noticed one light was still on in the kindergarten and first grade building. Something moving inside the classroom caught his eye. Long legs were perched on a stool just on the other side of the glass. Driven by something Sandor couldn't quite put his finger on, he changed his direction and headed for the building to the classroom he knew Sansa was in instead of his truck. An old Simon and Garfunkel song drifted into the hallway as he opened the door and stepped inside.

To alert his presence, Sandor rapped his knuckles on the open classroom door. From the stool where she had been hanging her beige ruffled curtains, Sansa turned. "Oh, hey!" She exclaimed cheerfully. "I thought everyone else had gone home." She stepped off the stool to greet Moses, who had approached her excitedly. "Hey there, Moses!" The dog rolled over on his back and accepted all the scratches and pats she was willing to give him. Lucky damn dog. We've both known her the same amount of time and he's already touched her twice as much as I've gotten to. Sandor had never been jealous of his dog before. As she squatted on the floor, the hem of her blue shorts rose dangerously high, showing off more of her beautiful pale skin. The sight sparked his interest even higher than it already was. Not wanting to have a raging boner in front of the woman he had been obsessing over for the past twenty four hours, Sandor quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Uh, yea. I'm just leaving. You all by yourself up here?"

"Yes, Margaery and Pod left not too long ago. Margaery offered me a ride, but I figured I would just walk. I wanted to get as much done as I could tonight." Sansa pushed herself up from her kneeling position on the floor. Her hair that had been loose earlier was now pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. More of her long graceful neck was on display. There was nothing more Sandor wanted than to find out what the skin there tasted like. Sansa folded the stool and crossed the room to her desk. She tapped a button on her phone to stop her music and glanced up at Sandor. "What are you doing here to late?"

"Took longer than I thought to get stuff settled with the other coaches. Then I had to do some arranging in my room. Can't leave it all 'til the last minute." Sandor lowered himself onto a table next to the row of cubbies along the wall. She's by herself up here with no way home except to walk. Offer her a ride, you moron. The ride to her apartment over the coffee shop was only about five minutes. Quickly, Sandor scrambled for a plan to spend more than just a few minutes with her. "Hey, would you umm...do you want to maybe...go have a cup of coffee with me?" Once the words had left his mouth, he immediately squeezed his eyes shut, not believing what he had just said.

Startled by his offer, Sansa looked up from a stack of books she had been idly going through. As a rule, Sansa never drank coffee after six PM. But Sandor, the man she hadn't been able to stop thinking about was offering to take her out for coffee. She didn't know if she should politely decline, or take him up on his offer. Sandor couldn't help but notice how nervous she looked as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

Shit, shit, shit... "Or you know...if you don't want to, I can just give you a ride home."

Sansa shook her head. "No, no...coffee would be great. Thank you."

Mouth agape, Sandor couldn't believe what he had just heard. It had been years since he had successfully asked a woman out. Even if it was just for coffee, he felt like he had just won the lottery.

"Ok then. After you." Sandor pushed himself away from the table and stood by the door while Sansa gathered her things. They walked to his truck in a comfortable silence. In a few well placed, hurried steps, Sandor beat Sansa to the passenger door and opened it for her and held his hand out to help her in.

For a second, Sansa stood there, staring at his hand. "Thank you," she finally whispered as she took his hand and climbed up to the seat. What should have been an innocent act of chivalry was quickly sending a burning sensation up Sandor's arm and straight to his chest. Once she was secure in the truck, Sandor abruptly pulled his hand away. As he walked to the back of the truck to load Moses up, Sandor jerked his head to the left and then the right, cracking the bones to relieve some tension.

While Sandor was getting Moses in the back of his truck, Sansa sat in the passenger seat, anticipating how the night would unfold. As she looked down at her old t-shirt and running shorts, she couldn't help but wish she looked a little more presentable. The sensation that she had felt when she gripped Sandor's hand had spread through her body like wildfire. With her blue eyes fixed on the brick wall she saw through the windshield, she dared herself to think about how her body would feel should he ever touch other places with those hands. Hands that were vastly different from those of her ex fiancé's. Joffrey's hands had been smooth and cold. With thin fingers that would fondle her at the most inappropriate times, and then only got more persistent once they were alone. Sansa had come to hate his hands and what they did to her behind closed doors.

The driver's side door opened and Sandor grabbed the steering wheel to pull himself up.

"I really like your truck." Sansa commented as she rubbed her hand along the smooth leather of the seat she sat in. The men she had kept company with in Atlanta, even before she had met Joffrey had driven ridiculously expensive, luxuriously ostentatious cars. Before Joffrey and his ridiculous, over the top Lamborghini, men who drove Maseratis, Audis or Jaguars had asked Sansa for dates. Men who only wanted to 'one-up' each other when it came to showing off their money, and did so with their cars. Sandor's truck seemed very fitting for a man like him. It was practical for life on a farm, sturdy, and big. Like him. And sexy...

"Thanks." Sandor mumbled as he turned his key in the ignition. "I bet it's a far cry from what you're used to."

Suddenly worried that Sandor had somehow been able to read her mind, she panicked and blurted out, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Twisting his torso to look behind him as he backed out of his parking spot, Sandor laughed. "You're from downtown Atlanta. Land of Mercedes' and BMWs. Or so I've been told." He turned to her and winked. "Is that what you've got?"

Sansa had to admit, he wasn't too far off the mark. Joffrey had supplied her with a brand new Audi A3 Cabriolet while she was with him. A car that she was all too willing to leave behind once she told him she was leaving. Before making her way to her new home, she had spent some of her hard earned savings to purchase the black sedan with almost two hundred thousand miles on it that had gotten her to Mississippi.

"Actually, I have a Honda Civic. I can assure you, it's painfully plain."

"Painfully plain." Sandor echoed as he looked at her. "I can assure you there is nothin' plain about you."

With a bashful smile, Sansa turned her gaze out the window. His sexy, low southern drawl was definitely something she could get used to. Instead of turning right to take her back to the only coffee shop Sansa knew of in town, Sandor was turning left, away from the buildings on Main Street. "Wait a minute, I thought we were going to get coffee. The coffee shop is that way." For emphasis, she gestured her hand back towards the town they were leaving behind.

"We are going to get coffee. The place I have in mind is better."

"Well then where are we going?"

With a scheming smile, Sandor simply said, "You'll see."

It didn't take them but a few minutes to reach their destination. After the short drive, Sandor was pulling into a dirt driveway. At the end of the driveway was a large, beautiful white farmhouse with a quaint wrap around porch. It looked to Sansa the kind of house she might see in the pages of a Southern Living magazine. She fell in love instantly. "Wow, this house is gorgeous! Where are we?"

Sandor swung his door open, but stopped to answer her question. "Home."

Home?! Is this Sandor's house?! He took me to his house... Oh dear Sansa, what have you gotten yourself into? Sansa hadn't meant to wait for Sandor to come open the door for her, but she was still sitting in her seat, trying to process what was happening when he pulled the truck door open. As her feet hit the ground, Sansa couldn't take her eyes off the antebellum farm house. It had a sloping tin roof and black shutters and a wide porch complete with rocking chairs. The wooden porch creaked under their weight as she stood next to Sandor while he unlocked the front door.

"Welcome. Make yourself at home." Sandor said as he headed into the kitchen.

The two story entryway was impressive, accentuated by a gorgeous rustic chandelier that caught Sansa's eye as she responded to Sandor. "If you tell me to make myself at home, I'll probably sit on your couch, pet your dog, drink all your beer, and take over the remote." Wisely, Sansa had chosen to leave out the no pants part. She had a strict no pants policy when it came to binge watching Netflix on her couch while sipping on her favorite beer.

Sandor's booming laughter echoed through the kitchen. "Well I can't say that would offend me."

Smirking, Sansa turned around to go explore. The living room was down a short hallway past the stairs that led to the second floor. A large gray L-shaped couch with wooden end tables took up most of the space in the living room. There was a stone fireplace and white walls. A reclaimed barn wood coffee table sat next to the couch and was decorated with candles that were set neatly in a wooden tray. The candle wicks were black, a tell-tale sign they had been lit at some point. For a minute, Sansa wondered if Sandor had lit them in the past to set a romantic mood. She smiled at the thought. Everything about his house was all so rustic and homey. The man has throw pillows. Throw pillows and a fluffy blanket on his couch. What bachelor has throw pillows? Sansa reasoned that an old girlfriend must have put her feminine touch on his house. The thought of some faceless, imaginary ex girlfriend whom the candles had been lit for and who had decorated the house suddenly gave Sansa an unreasonable twinge of jealousy. "This is beautiful!" She called out to Sandor. "It looks like Joanna Gaines decorated this place herself!"

His voice floated through the dining room. "Who?"

Sansa rejoined Sandor in the kitchen. "Joanna Gaines. The woman from that show on HGTV, Fixer Upper."

"Ahh. Dunno who that is. But you can compliment Margaery on the decor. She flipped out when I asked her to help me with the interior. I pretty much told her to do whatever she wanted. My bank account is still in recovery."

"Well Margaery missed her calling, then. She did a great job."

Sansa wandered across the foyer and entered a room that she assumed was Sandor's office. A large mahogany desk with a stately looking leather chair behind it sat near the back wall. Behind it was a huge framed picture of a large, well muscled black bull. Several other smaller pictures joined it on the wall, all of similar looking black bulls. Three jerseys, all with "CLEGANE" in block letters were framed on the wall between the two windows that overlooked the front porch. High school football, college football, professional football. Four trophy saddles were lined up against the wall with the door. These must be from Sandor's rodeo days, Sansa thought as she ran her hand along the smooth leather of the seat. Framed pictures of Sandor at rodeos caught her eye above the saddles. All of the pictures were similar, with Sandor in the process of swinging his right leg over the back of a black horse, getting ready to step off and run to the end of the rope to tie the calf he had just caught. Sansa realized she was still running her fingers absentmindedly across the leather of one of the saddles. They didn't look like they had been ridden in very much, if at all. If he's ridden in this saddle, his ass has touched this seat, she found herself thinking. Instead of imagining Sandor's weight in the saddle, she let herself imagine his weight on top of her. It had been too long since she had felt the weight of a real man on top of her. The thought only spurred her fantasy further, and Sansa allowed her mind to picture what he would look like on top of her as well as underneath her. On top or on the bottom...it didn't matter to Sansa. All she knew was that she wanted find out either way.

"How would you like it?"

Still lost in her daydream, Sansa had heard Sandor's question, but continued to gaze down at the saddle, imagining Sandor's ass rubbing the leather. She had never been jealous of leather. I think I would like being on the bottom with him better. No...top. "Both..."

Sandor's confused voice broke her train of thought, which was quickly spiraling out of control. "What?"

Shaking her head to clear her unsavory thoughts, Sansa's eyes widened as they shot to Sandor. She exhaled sharply. "What?"

"Coffee. How would you like your coffee? Milk, sugar, cream, whiskey...you know? Coffee." Sandor laughed as he turned and headed back into the kitchen.

Shit! Oh shit, he's got to think I'm some sort of lunatic! Quickly, Sansa left the office and joined him in the kitchen. "Almond milk if you have it, please. If not, regular milk is fine."

Scoffing loudly, Sandor opened the stainless steel refrigerator door. "Almond milk is not real milk." He set a jug of whole milk on top of the butcher block island.

"Well then why do they call it milk?"

Sandor uncapped the jug and poured some milk in each mug that he had prepared. "Because no one can say nut juice with a straight face."

Hearing his reasoning, Sansa burst into laughter. "Ok fine. You got me there."

"You're not a vegan, or vegetarian or anything like that, are you? You're not one of those girls who only eats seeds?" Sandor asked apprehensively.

Sansa shook her head with fervor. "Oh no..no, no! I just like the taste of vanilla almond milk in my morning coffee."

With an amused smile, Sandor handed Sansa her mug. "Well, here's some dairy milk in your evening coffee." His fingers brushed hers as she took the cup and grasped the handle. Fingers that sent another surge of heat through her limbs. He winked at her as he stepped around the kitchen island and headed for the front door.

God, I swear...if he doesn't stop winking at me... Sansa followed him onto the porch and sat down in a rocking chair. Sandor set his coffee mug on the small table between the two rocking chairs and propped his feet up on the porch railing. Moses flopped down on the porch beside Sansa and grunted with contentment. The Mississippi River was just in view from the porch and was sparkling with the orange and red light from the setting sun.

"Now isn't this better than the coffee shop?" Sandor commented.

There was no denying the view of the sunset was beautiful. One even might consider the view romantic. If this is Sandor's idea of being romantic, then he's off to a pretty good start. Sansa nodded her head and hummed an agreement as she looked over at Sandor appreciatively.

Sitting with Sansa on his front porch, watching the sunset was all of a sudden Sandor's new favorite thing. There was little to nothing that he wouldn't do to make this situation a regular occurrence. "So tell me, what made you come to Paradise Holler?" Sandor asked as he sipped his coffee. "Not that I'm complaining or anything...I like you being here." The shy tone of Sandor's voice was too adorable to Sansa. Most of her adult life, she had been courted by arrogant, cocky men who only wanted to get into her pants. Sandor was like a breath of fresh air.

With a warm smile brought on by his comment, Sansa gave him the same brief version of her life story that she had given to Margaery earlier that day. She tiptoed around the topic of family, and also left a few of the unpleasant details pertaining to her past relationships. Like how Joffrey had liked to yell at her and slap her around whenever she had done something to piss him off. Which was always. When she was done with her short biography, she asked Sandor about his life. She could tell he was holding some parts of his story back, but Sansa knew she couldn't hold it against him since she had forgone sensitive information as well. It was only the first time they had hung out, after all.

Sandor told her the same basic story that Margaery had told her while they were in her classroom. Sansa quickly decided she liked hearing it from Sandor better. He hadn't said anything about his childhood or family, and Sansa briefly wondered if they were still in his life. His accent was mesmerizing. The words he spoke rolled off his tongue with a timbre of warmth that was distinctly southern.

"So why math?" Sansa asked once he had reached the part of his story that pertained to his teaching.

Thoughtfully, Sandor looked out at the expanse of his front yard. The light of the sun had almost fully faded and lighting bugs were beginning to flash periodically between the limbs of the large tree in the yard. "Math is free from emotion. Reading and writing stems from thoughts and feelings, and I was never any good at that stuff in school. I'm still no good at them now. There's no gray area in math. A problem is either right or wrong and there's no room for interpretation."

He truly is an insightful man, Sansa thought as she swirled the last tiny bit of coffee in her mug. She suddenly found herself wanting more. Not because she was thirsty for more coffee, she just wanted to make this evening last.

Before she could say anything else, the bright light of Sandor's phone shone on his face as he checked the time. "Oh shit, it's past nine. Let's get you home." The pout on Sansa's face went unnoticed by Sandor as they stood to take their coffee mugs back inside.

When Sandor pulled his truck to a stop in front of the coffee shop, Sansa didn't know what to do. This wasn't really a date, so I shouldn't expect a goodnight kiss. Or was it a date? Oh but she wanted a goodnight kiss. Very badly. The sheer thought of him kissing her ignited a fire in Sansa's belly as she unbuckled her seatbelt with shaking hands. As he had done earlier, Sandor quickly made his way to Sansa's side of the truck and opened the door to help her out.

"Sorry I kept you out so late. Hope you won't regret hanging out with me in the morning." Sandor said sheepishly as he stood next to Sansa on the sidewalk. With his hands in his pockets, he looked down at the ground and scuffed his boot through some loose gravel.

"No, absolutely not." Sansa insisted quickly. "I really enjoyed myself, thank you. For the coffee. And for the company." She added quickly.

A small smile crept to Sandor's face. "Well, goodnight, Sansa."

"Goodnight, Sandor." A hug would probably be most appropriate, Sansa thought as she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Sandor must have been thinking the same thing, because he reached his hands down to her at the same second she reached up. Their arms clumsily bumped together as they tried to fit them around each other. They laughed and tried again, this time fitting together perfectly. As she embraced him, Sansa inhaled deeply, taking his musky, masculine scent into her nostrils. Always one to connect smells with memories, Sansa had a hopeful feeling that Sandor's scent would quickly become associated with happy memories. To her disappointment, Sandor was the first to pull away from their hug. But only marginally. The streetlamp shone on the unscarred side of his face and Sansa marveled at how handsome he looked as she gazed up at him. His tongue darted out of his mouth and across his bottom lip, and for a brief moment, Sansa excitedly thought he meant to kiss her. But instead, he moved his hands on her shoulders and let them glide down her arms.

"Goodnight." Sandor whispered again as he stepped away towards his truck.

"Goodnight..."

The conflicted feelings that Sansa felt for Sandor were borderline overwhelming. There was nothing about him per say that she felt conflicted about, but rather the hypothetical relationship that she found herself wanting with him. She wanted Sandor. In more than just a sexual way. She didn't want him for just a booty call, or for a long awaited rebound, she wanted to be with him. But she couldn't ignore how her brain was still insisting that she wasn't ready for a serious relationship after her tumultuous and at times, abusive courtship with Joffrey. The internal, uncharted waters that she was drowning in were throwing off her instincts, which were usually much sharper. The only thing to do was to hope that Sandor would understand her feelings and her reasoning.