Why don’t we ever run into our exes when we have our hair and make-up done? It’s like one of the laws of physics: An object that looks like trash shall run into everyone she knows while she looks like trash.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I lie.
“Likewise.” Her eyes flick to my boots. “I love your Uggs.”
“They’re not real Uggs,” Andrew says, as if he’d even know the difference. “Raegan only buys knockoffs.”
“Oh, how … thrifty of you.” Ashley giggles and rubs herself against Andrew like a cat.
My cheeks are burning from embarrassment when a deep voice startles me from behind. “Baby, did you get the cranberry sauce for Grandma?”
I whip around, mouth agape, to find Jaxon standing tall in a tight, white thermal shirt and dark jeans. The long-sleeve shirt looks like it’s painted on, clinging to every bulging muscle. His hair is messy and he’s sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow along his jawline.
Maybe I haven’t seen him in a while, but damn he looks good.
“Who’s that?” Ashley whispers to Andrew.
Jaxon flashes his dimpled Colgate smile and extends his hand. “I’m Jaxon.”
Andrew shakes his hand, a crease deep between his brows. “You’re Rae’s new boyfriend?”
Jaxon snakes his arm around my waist. “Well, I wouldn’t call me new.” He brushes his lips against my temple. “Right, Raegan?”
“Uh, right.” How long has it been now, about four seconds?
“My baby here was going through a rough divorce when we met,” Jaxon says. “The jerkoff she was married to took everything from her. Left her with nothing. What kind of prick does that to a woman?” He shakes his head. “The guy was a real piece of shit.”
I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to keep the smile from splitting my lips. If I get a canker-sore, it’ll be worth it just to have seen the look on Andrews face.
And the look on Ashley’s face. She rears back from Andrew in disgust. “You told me she made out like a bandit from the divorce.”
I laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that bursts out of your mouth when you hear something utterly ridiculous. “If you mean leaving me with credit card debt and living at my mom’s house, then yeah. I made out like a bandit for sure.”
Jaxon feigns surprise. “This is Andrew?” He swipes his bottom lip with his thumb as he appraises Andrew, much like Ashley had scrutinized me moments ago. “You’re a fucking disgrace.”
Andrew squares his shoulders and puffs out his chest. “Excuse me?”
I bump Jaxon with my hip. “He’s not worth it. Let his new girlfriend figure it out for herself.”
Jaxon turns to me and cradles my face in his large hands, looking into my eyes. “I can’t imagine anyone treating you like that. It makes me crazy.”
He’s really going for it, isn’t he?
Just when I think the show’s over, Jaxon’s head dips down and his soft lips are on mine.
My body stills at first. I’m caught off-guard. My initial reaction is to press my hands against Jaxon’s chest and push him off me. But when my hands get there, Jaxon covers mine with his, holding my palms against his racing heart.
And my God are his pecs made of steel?
I get swept up in the moment. I forget about Andrew and what’s-her-name standing there. I forget that we’re in the middle of a grocery store. I forget that I’m kissing the man I’m mad at.
All I can focus on is the way Jaxon’s lips feel. Velvety and warm, he takes his time moving them slowly over mine. The kiss is gentle, but I can feel the passion and fervor rolling off him in waves.
He’s holding back. And I don’t want him to.
When his tongue drags across my lips, I open for him without hesitation. Our mouths meld together in synchronicity. I slide my fingers into his hair, gripping on and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
This kiss is more. More than I remember it being the night I drunkenly kissed him. More than I’ve fantasized about. More than I’ve ever been kissed by anyone.
A low groan escapes him when he pulls my lower lip into his mouth and sucks, sending a shiver all the way down to my toes.
Someone passing by mutters, “Get a room,” and I snap back to the present moment, in the middle of the cereal aisle.
Andrew and his girlfriend are long gone. I take a step back, lifting my eyes to meet Jaxon’s dark, probing gaze. His eyes search mine, waiting for a reaction. Or he’s letting realization set in.
I shove him square in the chest. “What the hell, Jax?”
“I saw you turn down this aisle, and I heard the way that asswipe and his girlfriend were talking to you.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I figured you needed backup.”
“And the kiss?”
A smirk tugs at that delicious mouth of his. “I improvised.”
I roll my eyes and jerk my cart around him.
“Raegan, wait.” Jaxon stops my cart with his foot. “Can we please talk?”
“I don’t want to talk to you. I thought I made that clear.”
“Rae, I believe you. I believe that you didn’t take the ring, and I swear I didn’t send those cops to search your house.” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “Please. I’m not asking you to forget about everything I’ve put you through. I’m just asking you to think about giving me another chance.”
“Why? Why do you want another chance so badly?”
“Because … because I …” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Because I care. About you, Raegan.”
My heart strains against my chest, pulling me toward him. But my brain smacks its hands, like a mother swatting her child away from the cookie jar. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”
I push my cart down the aisle and leave Jaxon standing there, looking completely deflated.
“I wish I could’ve seen the look on Andrew’s face!”
I fight the urge to smile. “That’s not the point, Grandma.”
She scoops three more jellied cranberry slices onto her plate. “I don’t see what you’re so angry about.”
“If you kissed him back, you can’t hate him that badly,” Mom says.
Grandma nods. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“I liked him before I hated him. That’s the problem. It’s just … complicated.”
“Things weren’t this complicated back in my day. Your grandfather took me to dinner and the next day, we were engaged.”
Mom laughs. “Not that we want you to do that, Raegan.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t need to make things so difficult. If Jaxon likes you, and you like him, then you should be together.” Grandma leans in toward Mom. “The boy is very good-looking. Their babies would be beautiful.”
Mom chokes on her turkey.
I cover my face with my hands. “We’re not making babies.”
“I don’t have much time left,” Grandma continues. “I want to meet my great-grandchildren before I die.”
“It’s Thanksgiving,” says Mom. “Can we not talk about your death, please?”
I hate when Grandma talks about not having a lot of time left to live. Part of me, the deep-down part, knows she’s right. Guilt twists my stomach when I think about all the time I wasted with Andrew. I could’ve had children by now. They could’ve gotten to know their great-grandmother before her mind deteriorates to nothing.
Instead, I’m the only one out of my friends without kids. Without a family of my own. I’m not even trying to date or put myself out there. I’m doing what I always do, burying myself in work and preventing myself from finding happiness.
I pull out my phone and send a text in the group chat.
Me: Should I go on a dating site?
Kerry: Yes! *eggplant emoji*
Andrea: Just watch out for dick pics.
Sammi: Yes, you need to start dating.
Becca: Come over this weekend & I can help you make your profile
Mary: I want to come!
Kerry: I’ll bring the wine!
Andrea: Take some really good selfies so you can post them. Make sure you can see your boobs.
Mary: But not obvious boobs… more like an inadvertent how-did-those-get-in-there boob shot
Kerry: *coconut emojis*
Me: *face-palm emoji*
I toss my phone onto the table. For the rest of the day, my mind keeps dragging me back to Jaxon.
That kiss was everything a kiss should be. I shouldn’t have wanted it. I shouldn’t still want it.
But I did.
And I do.
Days Left Until Summer Break: 125
Jaxon
That kiss.
That kiss is all I’ve been able to think about.
I hadn’t planned on kissing Raegan. But I saw her standing there, looking so adorable in her hoodie, being put down by her ex-husband and the real-life Cruella de Vil—who wears fur coats anymore?—and I just had to do something. It was better than punching Andrew in his ugly dumb face.
I thought for sure Raegan would’ve slapped me. Again. Or pulled away at the very least. But she kissed me back. That kiss was exhilarating. It lit a fire under me. Within me. All our pent-up feelings for each other are combustible.
And I want more.
I want to burn.
I care about Raegan. I admitted it out loud, to myself and to her. And to whoever was shopping in the cereal aisle. Somewhere along the fucked-up line we’ve been riding on, my feelings for her changed and grew. We didn’t start off on the best foot, but I’m set on changing that now.
Raegan’s attracted to me. She doesn’t know it yet, but she has feelings for me too. I’m determined to make her realize that.
So Monday morning, I head down to her classroom before the arrival bell rings.
I walk through her open door, and Raegan and her friends are huddled around the computer. I catch a glimpse of a Match.com profile before Raegan minimizes the page.
My gut twists at the thought of Raegan going on a date with some dude off the internet. Any dude, for that matter. But I have to play it cool. I fix my disgruntled expression and smile. “Morning, ladies. I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving with their families.”
“We did, thanks,” Becca says.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” Raegan asks.
Her soft hair frames her face, and a cream-colored sweater dress wraps around her curves. God, she is beautiful. My eyes flick down to her black knee-high boots and snap back up to her face where it’s safe.
I pat my stomach. “It was great. My mom made enough to feed an army.”
“That’s what moms do best.”
I nod. “Well, I don’t mean to interrupt but I wanted to check in with you in regard to the fundraiser. Maybe you could meet with me after school?”
“Uh, sure. I have tutoring until four-thirty.”
“Come to my office after the students leave.” I wave to the girls. “Have a good day, ladies.”
I march back to my office like a man on a mission. I’m putting a new plan into place. If Raegan’s looking for a match, I’m going to give her one.
I can’t let Raegan go on a date.
Not unless it’s with me.
It’s crazy how all your favorite books and movies go right out the window the second you’re asked about them.
Match.com is asking me these ridiculous questions, as if people tell the truth on dating sites. There’s no chance Johnny from Brooklyn climbs Mt. Everest in his spare time.
Am I creating a dating profile? Yes.
Am I doing it to go on a date with Raegan? Also yes.
Do I think this plan is actually going to work? Absolutely.
I take the questions seriously and within the hour, I’ve successfully created my profile. The last step is to upload a picture.
Notice how I didn’t say my picture. Yeah, this is the part you’re not going to like. I’m going to upload my brother’s picture instead. We look a lot alike, save for small differences. His nose is bigger. I’m taller. But if Raegan’s attracted to me, then there should be no reason why she wouldn’t be attracted to Josh.
We’ll chat through messages. Then we’ll exchange numbers and text. And when it’s time to meet on our first date? I’ll show up instead of Josh, and Raegan will see how right we are for each other.
Or she’ll throw her drink at me and we’ll be back to square one.
When I know Raegan’s on lunch later in the day, I message her on Match.
Me: Hi Raegan. You’re beautiful. And I agree: Cats are “evil demon spawns.” Check out my profile and let me know if you’d be interested in getting to know each other a little more. -Josh
Several minutes go by before I get a response. I’m assuming this will be crafted and approved by her friends. I know how you girls are.
Raegan: Hi Josh. Good to know we share the same hatred for those furry creatures from hell. I see you’re into swimming. Another thing we have in common. And thank you … you’re quite good-looking too. -Raegan
Boom. I’m in. We continue making small-talk until Raegan’s class comes back from recess.
So far, so good.
Raegan
I head down to Jaxon’s office after tutoring is over.
This meeting will tell me how things are going to be between us after our kiss at Shoprite. He seemed fine this morning, but the girls were there so I couldn’t get a true reading on him.
Someone messaged me on Match this afternoon. I’d be lying if I said the guy didn’t remind me of Jaxon. He has the same dark hair and dark eyes. Tan skin. Muscular build. There are subtle differences, but these two could be related.
The whole point of going on Match was to get Jaxon off my mind. Now I find a match with someone who makes me think of Jaxon every time I look at his picture.
Figures.
I knock on Jaxon’s door, and he waves me in. I take a seat at the table and set down my notebook and pen. We go over the fundraiser event from beginning to end. Everything has been finalized, and everyone is on board. I’m so excited to see my idea come to fruition. I wonder what we’ll be able to buy for the school with all the money we’ll raise.
Beth pops her head into Jaxon’s office before she leaves. “Mr. Waters, I’m about to head out. I have a parent on hold who would like to speak to you about a bullying situation.”
I look up at Jaxon. “I can step out if you want to take the call.”
“No. You stay here. I’ll take the call at your desk, Beth. Thank you.”
“Can I use your computer to type this up?” I ask, waving my notebook. “Then we’ll be all set.”
“Of course.” Jaxon gestures to his computer as he walks out of his office.
I take my notebook to Jaxon’s desk and drop down into his chair. “Very comfy, Mr. Waters,” I whisper, running my hands along the smooth leather.
I wiggle the mouse to turn off the screen saver. I expect to see Jaxon’s desktop. Maybe an open document or e-mail. Instead, a gasp leaves my throat when my eyes register what it is that I’m looking at.
On the screen, clear as day, is Jaxon’s Match.com account. But no, it’s not his account that he’s logged into. It’s Josh’s account.
The Josh who’d been messaging me this afternoon.
My eyes narrow and my jaw clenches. That sneaky son-of-a-bitch is trying to catfish me!
I re-read the messages we’d sent back and forth to each other, and I almost laugh. Almost.
This guy is a piece of work. He went through all this trouble to create a fake account just to message me. But why? What’s his plan? What’s the endgame here?
More importantly, what’s mine? I’ve stumbled onto this incredible golden nugget of information. Do I blow up as soon as he walks back into the room? Or do I go along with it and see where this takes me?
I open a Word document and type up the letter for the fundraiser. I pretend all is well when Jaxon strides back into his office.
He smiles at me.
I smile back.
If he thinks he can get another one over on me, he is sorely mistaken.
Fool me once, shame on him.
Fool me twice, I am going to end this once and for all.
Here we go again.
Days Left Until Summer Break: 122
Jaxon
Raegan and I have been messaging each other for the past few days.
Well, technically I’ve been messaging her as Josh. But that’s a small, tiny, unimportant detail.
She asked to exchange numbers in the last message she sent. It’s a good thing. It shows she’s into me. But I’m hoping we can stick to texting, and she doesn’t want to chat on the phone. There’s a chance she could recognize my voice, and this whole thing could blow up in my face.
I realize I’m playing with fire. But there’s no way Raegan would agree to go on a date with me. The real me. She’s still upset about the search warrant and doesn’t trust me. Hopefully this plan will help her to see how compatible we are, and how serious I am about wanting to date her.
Or she’ll hate me forever and never want to speak to me again.
Really hoping for the former.
My phone dings with a new message including Raegan’s number. My face splits into a wide grin while I save it into my contacts. Then I type out a text and click Send.
Me: Hi Raegan, it’s Josh.
Raegan: Who?
Me: Josh from Match …
Raegan: I know I’m kidding
Me: Funny and pretty. You probably have lots of Joshes lined up for your number
Raegan: Yet I only gave mine to you
Me: And why is that?
Raegan: You’re cuter than all the other Joshes
Raegan: Plus you’re the only one who hasn’t sent me a dick pic
Hating the Boss Page 12
