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He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing it. Even as he navigated his way north with his belongings stowed into the back of his enormous SUV, he asked himself, again, if this was the right thing to do. And his heart, disagreeing with his head, said yes with such finality and such fervor that he knew it was the best choice he could have made.

Teaching was what he’d been born to do, and a life and career in the spotlight hadn’t dimmed his passion for imbuing others with knowledge. He was going back to where he’d truly begun to live, to breathe, to feel, and think. It was where he’d fallen in love for the one and only time in his life.

It was home.

Most people thought he was crazy for going back to take up the position in the music department of his alma mater. Most people didn’t realize his love for Hensley College.

He remembered the first time he’d seen it. It had been the summer between his junior and senior years of high school, and he’d been so excited to travel New England to find the college he would one day attend. His parents had piled him and his younger sister, Emma, into their van and headed north on the interstate. They hadn’t quite understood what it was that was pulling their son to the northern winters of New England, but they’d agreed to support his choice in an institute of higher learning.

After a week of driving around New York, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire, they’d driven onto the Hensley College campus, and, stepping out of the car and looking around, everything inside of him had opened up and shouted, “This one!”

Fifteen years later, Hensley was still the first place that popped into his head when he thought of home. The friends he’d made, the things he’d experienced, and the ones he’d grown to love had all had a hand in forming him into who he was today.

His fans looked at him and saw the image he’d created of himself over the past decade. They didn’t see the longing he’d harbored within him. He’d dreamt of standing in front of a class full of students and knowing that they all waited for him to teach them about technique, scales, and theory. There had been so many times throughout his stage career that he’d wished he could just step off the stage and disappear into the hallways and classrooms of a school.

It was where his heart belonged, and, after ten long years, he was going back to it.

He still remembered the conversation he’d had with his family when he’d told them that he’d accepted the teaching position at Hensley.

“Brian, honey, are you sure this is what you want to do?” Jackie Littrell watched her son with apparent concern in her eyes. “I know you trained to be a teacher, and you’ve got your certification, of course. But you’ve been places and done things that most people never get to experience. Are you sure you want to give it all up?”

He was sure. So sure he could feel it bursting out of him. “Mom, I’m not giving anything up. My entertainment career isn’t going to disappear. I’m sure if I want to in five years, I could still get up on a stage and get applause. It’s just not what I want right now.” He leaned over and took her hands in his. “I love singing, but I was born to teach.”

“So no more awards shows, huh?” Emma grinned. “I’m really gonna miss that aspect of your career.”

“They’ll probably still invite me until they figure out I’m not coming back. Not for a while anyway,” he added, a slight smile on his lips. “Besides, you always complained about going.”

Emma swatted him lightly. “Yeah, but then I got to be around those hot celebrities, and none of it mattered.”

Brian grinned. “Well, I’ll let you know if there are any hot professors up at Hensley. Not that I’ll allow you to date them, of course,” he added mischievously.

“I heard Isabella Flynn is a biology professor at Hensley,” his father said quietly.

The champagne flute in his hand wobbled slightly, before Brian caught himself. “I’d heard rumors.”

“She got her doctorate last year,” his mother added. “I ran into Missy Walters a few weeks ago. Missy’s oldest daughter was in your class at Hensley, and she told me that Kelly told her about it.”

“That’s nice.” God, this was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He had no desire to think about Bella. Not today, not any day. Ever.

Emma looped her arm through his and looked over at their mother. “I’m sure Dr. Flynn has a life she’s busy with, Mom. Just like Brian does.”

“Well, of course, she does,” her mother replied. “But I was just saying…”

“So, Bri, where are you going to live up there?” Emma rescued him before he fell into the pit of dark memories.

He smiled at his younger sister, grateful for her interference. “I bought a house last week. I’m going back to Maine. For good.”

“For good?” Jackie’s brows lifted in surprise. “What about Lexington? I thought this was home.”

Brian shook his head. “Home is Hensley. It’s been Hensley since the first day I saw the campus. I love it up there, and I’m going back for good.”

Though she had her reservations, she could see the determination and the confidence in her son’s blue eyes. “Okay, then. I just want whatever’s best for you. If Hensley makes you happy, then that’s where you should be.”

“Your students are going to be very, very lucky,” Harold stated quietly, and Brian looked over at his father, surprised.

“I hope so, Dad.”

So this was it, he thought, as he drove on a highway shaded by enormous leafy oaks and maples in their late summer prime. Maine was its prettiest at this time of the year, and he’d never missed it more.

On the road and stages throughout the world for the last ten years, he’d seen and done more than most others his age had. He’d sung for royalty, for Presidents, and for orphans in an AIDS clinic in Africa. He’d performed for millions of people and sold just as many albums. After six Grammys and a plethora of various other awards, he couldn’t say he wasn’t happy. In fact, he was deliriously so, but he’d also been tired. He knew if he wanted to get on a stage again, he’d receive the same accolades as he already had. But he no longer wanted that lifestyle. Being on the road since he’d graduated from college, he’d never had a chance to experience life the way he’d dreamt of when he was younger.

Now, it was his turn.

His fat, tabby cat stretched and purred in the passenger seat, and Brian reached over to scratch his ears. “That’s right, Gizmo. You just keep sleeping while I do the hard work.” He chuckled when Gizmo yowled a little before closing his eyes again.

Gizmo had been a present from his fans when his first cat had died. They’d sent him sixty-seven kittens until his home had been overflowing with them. After two days of living with his furry roommates, he’d donated them to various orphanages. Except for Gizmo. The kitten had slept, hidden in a nook of Brian’s home and hadn’t appeared for two days. When he had stalked, meowing, into the kitchen, Brian hadn’t been able to give him away, too. So Gizmo had become his partner in crime.

“But I wish you weren’t sleeping, Giz,” he murmured quietly. He needed a companion badly because he needed to keep his thoughts of Hensley from sliding to one thought. One name.

Bella.

In his mind’s eye, he could still see her as she’d been the first time he’d ever seen her. Her curly hair had been tied up with a pencil sticking out of the bun, her gray eyes huge behind the thick, black rims of her glasses. She’d been painfully awkward in the music theory class he had been a TA for during his junior year, and he’d had to spend a great number of hours tutoring the prickly freshman with a passion for biomedicine. Her persistence had intrigued him as he knew music wasn’t really meant for her.

By the end of the first semester, though, her dry wit had hooked him.

Looking back, he could admit that, by the end of that first year, he’d been in love with her. He’d always wanted the type of relationship his parents had and had searched high and low for a woman that would make his heart leap every time he saw her. Bella had had his heart doing somersaults, leaps, and Olympic-style gymnastics.

God, he missed her. It had been ten years, and, though the emptiness he’d felt when he’d read the letter had long since disappeared, there were times when he woke up needing her. He could still remember the gut-wrenching pain he’d felt when he’d found the letter she’d left for him, breaking things off.

There he’d been, about to graduate and go on to record his first album, and she’d pulled the plug on their relationship. It had taken him a year and a half before the numb had faded enough for him to truly begin to enjoy the thrill performing for others gave him.

In all the years since then, with all the women he’d dated, he’d never found another woman he could imagine by his side for the rest of his life. He’d come close, nearly convinced himself Jessica was the one, and then he’d found that she was only with him for the press.

So now, at the age of thirty two, he was starting over. He’d left the stage and everything and everyone that came with it behind. He was going back to who he’d meant to be. Though he was scared as hell about it, he knew it was the right thing for him. Ten years in the spotlight was enough.

Teaching was his passion, so he would teach.

“Everything else,” he murmured aloud in his car, “is second place now.” And he hoped, for his sake, that he could stick to that.