by Kacey Shea
Mav chuckles and then looks around my body to where Alicia stands. “Hey,” he lifts his hand in a wave. “I’m Maverick.”
“Sorry. Where are my manners?” I shake my head, “Alicia, this is Mav. He’s one of the site managers here at the center.”
Maverick rolls his eyes. “And your best friend.”
“Most days.” I wink at him and laugh.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Alicia looks around. “This is really impressive.”
“I can give you a tour if you’d like?”
“That’d be great.” She turns to me. “If that’s okay?”
My chest fills with pride at her spark of interest. This place isn’t only where I volunteer, it’s a passion project. “Yeah, go check it out.” Picking out the tools I need, I try not to stare as Alicia follows Mav out of the room. They fall into easy conversation and her soft laughter at something he says brings a smile to my lips. Part of the reason I decided to pick her up instead of coming here first was to show her a glimpse inside my world. I only hope she likes what she finds. For Matthew’s sake. That’s my only motivation. That’s what today needs to be about.
Liar.
Yeah, okay, there’s a piece of me that desires her affirmation and approval. I want Alicia to like the person I’ve become. I want her to regret leaving me behind, even if it’s only a little, because somehow that will validate the work I’ve done. And I know how lame that is. I’m a grown man, my own person, and I shouldn’t rely on her opinion of my character for self-worth. But I do. I care more than I should.
13
Alicia
“So you connect with the area school counselors, teen advocacy groups, and local universities?” I ask, leaning against the counter in the teen center’s kitchen. “I love the partnership aspect to all of this.”
“Yeah, that’s how we started and it’s worked for us. Every now and then the local news will pick us up for a special interest story and that’s great for funding, but to really reach teens we try to go where they are.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know this place existed. When I was working on my pre-reqs for my graduate program applications, I would have loved to volunteer here.”
“How many years ago was that?”
“Almost four now.”
“Well, that’s why. We didn’t exist then,” Maverick says. “We’re coming up on our two-year anniversary next month. When Chase first came to me with the idea, I thought he was crazy. Well, he’s always been a little crazy.” He laughs and shrugs. “I mean, who else would hire a dude in a wheelchair to look after a bunch of at-risk teenagers? But, it’s been such a success, so I guess he was right on this one.”
Wait. What? “Chase?”
Maverick’s lips quirk with his smile, his stare curious. “Yeah, he’s one of the founders. Worked months to secure the funding and non-profit status.”
I swallow hard as the pieces click together. “You used to work with Chase. Back in his firefighting days.”
“Oh, he’s still with the department.” He rolls his eyes, and then nods toward the wide doorway. Inside one of the rooms, Chase works with the teens to hang the punching bags. “He refuses to take a salary from the center, even though he’s here more than most of our paid staff. Crazy.” There’s an admiration in his tone that’s unmistakable.
This man was paralyzed because of Chase’s decision to get behind the wheel drunk. Now they work together to provide a safe space for at-risk youth. The beauty and love in what they’ve built here steals my breath.
As we head back to the exercise room, I take in the features of the center in a new light. There are no doors except for the locked staff offices and two storage rooms. The doorways are extra-wide and the flooring flat and even. The surface makes it easy for Maverick to move freely from one room to the next. I’m certain none of that is accidental, as is the fact Chase created a job for his friend and a way for Maverick to provide for his family.
Chase climbs off the ladder. With both boxing bags hung, the two teens eagerly pull on gloves to try them out.
Maverick rolls to a stop and lifts his gaze to Chase. “I expect a bonus for singing your praises.”
Chase grins at his friend. “Yeah, sure, I’ll drop it in the mail.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be off this week? Wedding prep and all that?”
“Yeah.” Chase sneaks a wince my way. “We actually need to grab some tables and chairs. There’s been a change of venue.”
“Oh, damn,” Maverick says. “Of course. Take whatever you need. We don’t have the fundraiser until next week.”
“Cool. I thought you’d say that. We should actually head out.” Chase turns back to the teens. “Hey, Ryan. Cody. Can I get your help with something?”
Cody glances over at Ryan before meeting Chase’s stare. “Uh, do we have a choice?”
“Not really.” Chase laughs. “Come on. It’ll only take a sec and then you can get back to training to be the next ultimate MMA fighter.”
Chase leads us to one of the storage closets and the boys push the rolling cart holding a group of tables out to the truck. Chase uses a special dolly to load up a stack of ten chairs. That’s only a fraction of what they’re going to need for Saturday.
“We’re fitting all of this in your truck?” I say skeptically.
“It’s going to take a few trips,” Chase says, leaning the stack back and pulling the chairs toward the front doors. “We’ll grab what we can now. You don’t have to help all day. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
I really don’t. Simon’s watching Matthew, and the last thing I want is to spend all day with my mom, as horrible as it sounds. Still. I can’t tell whether Chase is giving me an out because he’d rather do this alone, or it’s some kind of test.
If I’m honest, I’m having a hard time deciding how I feel about Chase. It was easier to hate him an ocean away. But seeing him sober, handsome as ever, and thriving, it paints him in a new light. He’s full of goodness and I get little flashes of the man I fell for back in Kitty Hawk. He freaking volunteers at a teen center he helped open! A bud of attraction blooms in the space where my heart used to beat for him. It’s terrifying, and not at all in my plans. In fact, with each passing minute I forget exactly why I thought coming back would give me closure. If anything, it’s done the opposite.
“Hey, Chase.” A young man waves, stepping out of a beat-up older Civic. He stands to his full height, all long, skinny limbs, but there’s something familiar in his gait as he walks over.
“Hey, man.” Chase tilts the dolly so the stack of chairs stands upright again.
Cody and Ryan work together to stack the folding tables inside Chase’s truck bed. They glance up and shout out greetings.
“What’s this all for?” the guy says, sliding his sunglasses off and slipping them onto the top of his hat. “I thought you were on vacation this week.”
“My brother’s wedding,” Chase says.
“Ahh.” The man nods. It’s then I realize how I know him. It’s Tyler, one of the teens from the community center in Kitty Hawk. He’s grown up. Holds himself with more confidence too.
“Tyler?”
He turns at his name, his eyes growing wide with surprise. “Oh! Hey, Miss Martin.”
“How are you?” My jaw falls open, amazed he’s standing here, appearing happy and healthy. My heart melts at the fact he and Chase have kept in touch all these years.
“He’s fantastic.” Chase clasps him on the shoulder. “Tyler got a full ride to VCU and is one of our part-time staff for the community center.”
“Wow, that’s . . . so cool.”
“It’s not that big a deal.” Embarrassment darkens his cheeks and a glimpse of the awkward teen resurfaces for a split second. “I wouldn’t have done any of that without Chase’s help.” He gives Chase a light shove, the kind of familiar closeness that comes with trust and love. My heart squeezes.
“Do you keep in touch with anyone else from Kitty Hawk?�
� I ask, wondering if he ever got his chance with Bailey.
“Uh, yeah.” He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Bailey also goes to VCU. We have a few classes together.”
“Sometimes she pops in to volunteer too,” Chase adds.
“That’s great.” My smile grows wide.
“But we’re just friends,” he clarifies as if the distinction is important. “She’s all into the sorority thing, and anyway, she’s still dating Hunter. He got a full ride at Texas A&M. They’re doing the long-distance thing.” By my calculations, Tyler still has a crush.
“Well, I think it’s nice you two are still friends. And your mom’s still in Kitty Hawk?”
“Yeah, she’s doing really great.” Tyler’s smile grows wide, his chest rising with pride. “Started dating when I left for college and met a nice guy. They’re pretty serious, but it’s good. He’s good to her.”
“Oh, I’m glad.” Only a few years have passed, but as weird as it is, I didn’t realize how much everyone would have moved on. Without me. And I know nothing about the people I care about—not in the ways I used to. I always understood this would happen, I just didn’t expect it to hurt.
Chase helps the teens lift the last of the chairs into the truck bed, then turns to meet my gaze. “Well, we should take off.”
“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I would’ve helped you load up.”
“It’s okay. I put the kids to work.” Chase opens his arms, and brings Tyler in for one of those half hug, half back-pat things men do. “I’ll be back for more chairs this afternoon.”
“Cool.” Tyler lifts his hand in a wave. “Nice to see you again, Miss Martin.”
“You too, Tyler.” I smile. “Tell Bailey hello for me the next time you see her.”
“Will do.” He takes the dolly Chase used to haul the chairs and heads back into the center.
Chase walks past, opens the passenger door, and holds it for me to get inside. “You ready?”
Am I ready to be cooped up next to a man who’s doing funny things to my heart and making me question every big decision I’ve made? Absolutely not. But with one foot in front of the other, I climb into the cab, averting my gaze so it doesn’t collide with Chase’s as I buckle up. I worry if I look him in the eyes, he’ll be able to see past my defenses. He always could.
“So.” Chase clears his throat once we’re on the road again. “What did you think of the teen center?”
I wonder if he’s fishing for a compliment, but when I sneak a glance and find him clenching the steering wheel, I realize it’s coming from a place of genuine interest. “I love it.” I can’t find it in myself to be anything but honest. “That place is exactly what every community needs.”
Chase exhales, his fingers relaxing their grip on the wheel as his mouth widens with a smile. “Did Mav tell you it’s funded strictly on donations?”
I shake my head. “No, but he did say you hired him to manage the center, and that you are the reason it even exists.”
Chase rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “I had the idea, but a lot of people worked their asses off to see it come to fruition.”
“Humility.” I lean back into my seat, and crinkle my brow. “It looks good on you.”
Oh, God. Am I flirting?
“Yeah, well.” Chase chuckles, his eyes on the road. “I guess they were wrong. Old dogs can learn new tricks.” He’s using humor to deflect. I recognize it because it’s a coping tactic I’ve reached for many times.
“I think it’s amazing what you’re doing—not only for the teens, but for Maverick.”
His face sobers and at the stop light his gaze drifts to mine. “It’s the least I can do.” Understanding passes between us, born of past conversations. There are no words needed to express the depth of Chase’s remorse for what happened to his best friend.
The light turns to green, and Chase’s focus returns to the road. The ring of his cell phone sounds through the truck’s speakers, Jill’s name flashing across the dashboard screen.
“Hey, Jill.” Chase says after tapping one of the buttons on his steering wheel. “You’re on speaker.”
“Hey, Jilly,” I say, still a little unnerved by how close he and Jill seem to be. I was so worried about how they might not accept him—or us dating—and yet, it appears that anxiety was for nothing.
“Hey!” Jill says. “Just checking in to see how everything’s going. Did you get the tables and chairs?”
“They’re en route to the venue.” Chase flashes me a grin, his eyes rolling. “But you probably already know that because you’ve got me on that tracking app.”
“It’s a family security app.” She scoffs. “And you consented.”
“What do you need, Jill?”
“I was hoping you could swing back here after you make the drop. We’ve got more stuff that needs to go to the venue and Cam and I still need to get our wedding license.”
“Cutting it a little close.”
“I’ll bribe you with lunch.” She draws out her plea.
“Deal,” Chase answers immediately, earning a laugh from Jill.
“Alicia, you should come too,” Jill extends the invite. “We’ll have plenty.”
“Thanks.” My stomach grumbles in agreement. I check the time on the dash to see it’s already after one. We were at the center longer than I thought. Matthew will be going down for his nap soon. While Jill walks Chase through a few more requests, I tune out, using my phone to send a text to Simon to see how they’re doing.
He answers a few seconds later.
Simon: Passed out and happy.
The caption includes a photo of my sleeping boy and my heart squeezes at the sight.
Me: He looks so sweet like that.
Simon: All the outdoor play is doing him good.
Me: He’ll probably sleep a few hours for you.
Simon: How’s everything going?
Me: Fine.
Simon: Just fine?
I picture his raised eyebrows and huff out a breath of annoyance. I am not having this conversation over text. Or this close to Chase. I glance up to see we’re pulling onto my parents’ street.
Me: I have to go.
Simon’s response of a few laughing emojis causes me to roll my eyes as I tuck my cell back into my bag.
“Everything okay?” Chase asks.
“Yeah, just checking in.”
“Matthew’s doing okay without you?”
“I work full time. He doesn’t know a life where I don’t come and go, and he’s super friendly. Probably too friendly. He’s a happy kid.” I’m babbling now. I hate that it makes me appear nervous, but I can’t take the quiet. “So, you decided to stick with firefighting?”
“Yeah.” He turns onto the gravel drive that leads through my parents’ estate, passing the main house to go directly to the detached garage.
“When I left you weren’t sure.”
“I wasn’t sure my father would let me back in.” He scrubs a hand down his jawline. “Cam talked to him, but I think it was Mav’s call that won him over.”
“You’re still at the station by Callie’s?”
“No. My only request was to start somewhere new. I’m at one of the smaller stations, at the edge of the county. It’s a more rural area, and the guys there are family focused.” He pulls to a stop, shifting the gear to park, and turns in his seat to meet my stare. “I didn’t want to work with the guys who knew me as a drinking buddy. I knew I couldn’t handle that temptation. I needed a fresh start. A place to prove myself without all that baggage. And I stuck with AA and therapy.”
“That’s really smart.”
His brows lift. “You surprised by that?”
“No.” I shake my head, biting back the retort that threatens to fly past my lips. I’m impressed. Under his searching stare, my body tingles with awareness and heat. The scent of his cologne reaches my nostrils and I’m transported back in time. Memories of our bodies, sweaty a
nd pressed together, flashes in my mind’s eye. Fuck. Reaching for the door handle, I hop out of the truck and shake them off.
In silence we unload the truck, working together to drag the tables and chairs into the empty garage. It’s only a few feet from his truck bed to the garage, but I’m out of breath, my face damp with exertion. Thankfully the sky is overcast, and a light breeze keeps me from sweating my makeup off.
Chase lifts the gate to his truck bed back into place with a slam before turning to meet my gaze. His foot scuffs at the gravel as he hooks a thumb toward the house. “You can bail if you want. I can get the rest.” His offer lacks judgment or concern, as if he doesn’t care either way. It stings a little more than it should.
“No.” I shake my head. “I want to help. This is important to Jill. Besides, I’m not sure when else I’ll get to see her before the wedding.”
Chase nods, and I recognize the appreciation in his gaze. “She misses you. Callie, too.”
I miss them more than I can ever admit. Being back home has made it clear just how much I’ve missed out on. I thought I made the right choice. I thought I did what was best, but with each passing hour I wonder if I’ve made a colossal mistake, and if there’s any chance at reconciliation. More importantly, am I worthy of it after what I’ve done?
14
Alicia
Three years ago
Another Saturday, another day racing to catch up on all the reading I should’ve done this week. But for the first time in months, I feel like leaving my room. I don’t know whether it’s the change in weather, my full schedule, or my broken heart, but I’ve found it really hard to get through basic tasks. I should go talk to someone. See a doctor or therapist, or both. But the idea of doing either of those things is terrifying. It might not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but I’ve thrown myself into my graduate program, living and breathing school.
At least I’m not drinking.
I’m using my addiction to justify my detachment. I know I am, and yet it’s a compelling argument. My first night in London, I scared myself. It would have been all too easy to slip into reckless behavior and get lost again. That night I almost drank. I almost slept with a stranger. Thankfully, I got cold feet for both.
