“Honestly, no. I’m pretty sure guys don’t give shit like that enough thought.” He chuckles. “Maybe she just needed help.”
“To make a couple of coffees? Trust me, I know my sister.”
“So, how’s Tilly doing? Hasn’t beaten anyone to a pulp yet?” he asks, his voice light.
“You tell me. Though this Jimmy kid seems to have gotten the message not to mess with my kid.” I grin and he laughs.
“Yeah, I’ve been dealing with Jimmy’s mother all week. She wanted me to take stronger action against Tilly to ensure this type of thing doesn’t happen again.”
“Seriously?” I gasp. “Maybe she should have a word to her son about not picking on a little girl whose father is not well.”
“I’m sorry about your fiancé. Grant told me a little bit about what happened. I hope that was okay.”
I shrug. “He wouldn’t have said anything you couldn’t have found out yourself in the newspapers.”
“Three years is a long time, but I bet it feels like yesterday.”
“It does,” I say, surprised by his understanding. “Sometimes I catch myself going a day without thinking about him and I feel guilty about moving on.” I make a face. “And then I’m torn between my family thinking I’ve grieved enough for him, and his family, who thinks I should stand by him forever. It’s like they expect him to suddenly wake up one day.” I laugh, blinking back tears. “Their hope is what gets them out of bed every morning.”
“And you don’t have that hope?” he asks.
“Tilly is what keeps me going—nothing else,” I shrug. “How about we talk about something less tragic than my life?” I suggest with a smile.
“Sure,” he says, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Grant tells me you like art?”
“Yes,” I sigh, happy to be moving on to a subject that makes me feel good. “I’ve always loved it. Even as a little kid I’d spend all my time drawing and painting. I mean, I’m not very good, but it’s something I can do to help me escape when I need to.”
“What do you do with the things you paint?” he asks.
“Give them to family,” I blush. “I have a stack of my work in the spare room of my house, gathering dust.”
“Is there anything here you did?” he asks, glancing around at the various art pieces on the walls.
My face reddens as I point to a portrait of Cassie hanging on the far wall. “I did that one.” I point to another, this one a landscape painting that hangs above the fireplace. “And that.”
He gets up, and walks over to study them. “These are fucking amazing,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “And you don’t see talent in these?”
“They’re not bad,” I say, embarrassed. “But I’m by no means good in comparison to what you’d see in a gallery.”
“I’d pay for these.” I laugh, but stop when I realize he isn’t joking. “I’m serious. I want to see what else you have.”
“Okay,” I shrug, not sure what else I can say. “You can come over sometime and see them.” My stomach tightens. Why did I say that? I should’ve said I’ll give some to Grant to pass on to him, because now I’ve pretty much agreed to see him again.
“Great,” he grins, sitting back down next to me.
It’s after Eleven when I finally leave. Tilly’s long gone to sleep, and though I feel as though I could talk all night with Max, I know I need to take a step back. I say goodbye to Ellie and Grant, who suddenly have the urge to tidy the kitchen and suggest Max walk me out. I laugh helplessly at my stubborn, stupid, pushy sister who I love more than anything.
“Sorry if this is awkward,” Max winces as we reach my car. His hands in his pockets, he stares into my eyes as if trying to figure out what I’m thinking.
“You mean those two?” I jerk my hand back toward the house. “It’s all good. That’s my sister for you. But seriously, I had fun. I’m glad I stayed.”
“I’m glad you did too,” he murmurs, his voice husky. He’s going to kiss me. Panic sets in, and I sift my gaze down to opening the car. The moment passes, and as the cool wind hits the back of my neck, I shiver.
“I’ll see you again sometime?” I squeak as I all but tumble into the car. He grins, amused, and nods.
“I hope so.”
Chapter Nine
Max
Lance greets me at the door in his usual manner when I arrive home from work. I give him a pat and then wander over to the bathroom to let out Mr. Scruffy. He glares at me and then runs out into the living room, passing a very concerned Lance.
When I finally got onto Todd’s mother about picking up their cat, she informed me they didn’t own one. Todd admitted to finding him behind the library, meowing for food. We thought he’d been trying to smuggle it into school when his plan was actually to try and smuggle him home.
To make a long story short, after taking her to the vet to check for a microchip and putting up a few fliers that went unanswered, I had two options: take her to a shelter or open my home to another animal. Right now, the last option seems the easiest.
Lance walks suspiciously around Mr. Scruffy, sniffing at him. I stand back and watch, amused by their interaction. Judging by the looks he keeps throwing me, I’m not sure he’s thrilled about our new house guest.
“It’ll be good for you not to be alone all day once you guys get used to each other,” I assure him. The cat walks over to him, sniffs his face, and then swipes him across the nose. Lance jumps back in shock, his brown eyes wide as he bounces around the cat.
I pull the scrunched up bit of paper from my pocket that’s been sitting there since morning and stare at the number. My heart pounds as I think about what I’m doing. Never mind the fact that how I got her number was wrong on so many levels, maybe she really doesn’t want anything to do with me? Fuck it. I pick up the phone and dial her number.
“Hey. It’s Max.”
“Oh, hey,” Kiara replies.
I can’t tell whether she sounds happy to hear from me or just shocked.
“How did you get my number? Did Grant give it to you?” she asks, her voice hardening.
“Relax, it wasn’t Grant or Ellie.” I chuckle. “Though the truth might be a little creepier. I might have gone through Tilly’s record, looking for your number . . .”
“Oh really?” She laughs. “Isn’t there some kind of law against that?”
“Probably,” I agree. “But I guess it depends on what I’m calling to talk to you about. If it were related to Tilly and her schoolwork then that would be totally acceptable. If I were calling to ask you your thoughts on midget-fisting porn, well, that might be a different story.”
She snorts and dissolves into giggles. “You just made me snort coffee out of my nose,” she gasps. “Is that why you’re calling?”
“Depends. Would you answer me if it was?” I crack, stretching out on the bed.
“If I was into midget-fisting porn, it’s probably something I’d want to keep on the down-low.”
“Fair enough—that’s a valid point. I could imagine that kind of thing getting out would be hard to explain,” I agree, laughing.
She laughs again. “This is totally not where I was expecting this conversation to go. So, why are you calling me? Why aren’t you out, relaxing on a Friday night?”
“Because you mentioned your love of art, and I happen to have a good friend who has an exhibition opening next Thursday night at the Red Rock Gallery.”
The line falls silent and for a second I think she’s hung up. “Sounds like fun,” she finally responds.
“And I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” I add, trying to put her mind at ease. “This is totally not a date. No offense, but the whole midget porn obsession you have going on is a little off-putting for me. I think you’re way too experimental for me to handle.”
She bursts into laughter. “Well, how can I refuse when you put it like that? I’d love to go with you, but I want to be clear and upfront: I’m not ready for a relationship.”
“Is there room in your life for another friend?” I ask.
“There’s always room for a new friend. Especially one that can make me laugh.”
“Great, then I’ll pick you up at six. It’s black-tie, so dress up. If you’re leaving Tilly with Grant and Ellie, let me know and I can get you from there.”
“Okay, sounds good,” she says, her voice happy.
We hang up and I lie back on my bed, satisfied. I was totally bullshitting her when I said I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I am. I think she is, too, only she doesn’t know it yet. I feel bad for her, especially given her situation with Aiden. I can’t even imagine how hard that must be for her. Hopefully, as she gets to know me she’ll realize that she is capable of moving on.
***
Kelly is on me five minutes after I arrive at work the following Wednesday. She follows me into my office, rattling on about some project she wants my approval to run, but the only thing she’s actually gotten out is how Mr. Mattich was thrilled with her whole concept.
“Kelly,” I say, rubbing my head. I don’t function well before a coffee, and sleeping through my alarm this morning meant I was running on empty. “Put whatever it is you want in writing and I’ll go over it, okay?”
She pouts, but doesn’t argue with me. Turning on her heel, she storms out of my office in her usual fashion. After I go through my morning schedule, I head down to the staffroom to make myself a coffee. It’s only just after seven thirty, so the halls are pretty empty. I’m surprised that Kelly is here this early, but then I remember—it’s Kelly. She probably sleeps in the parking lot.
It’s after seven in the evening by the time I get away from my office, and I still have so much shit to do but if I stay any longer I’m going to go crazy. I knew from my vice principal roles that this would be hard, but I think I underestimated just how much work would be involved. Nonetheless, I love it and I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Grant calls me as I’m driving out of the parking lot.
“Ellie’s doing something with Kiara and the girls so I’m a free man tonight. I’m thinking burgers and beer at Shady’s Bar?”
“I’m literally just leaving work.” I sigh. “But a burger sounds better than frozen pasta, so you’re on.”
I hang up and do a U-turn, heading in the direction of the bar. The good thing about finishing so late is that the traffic is pretty much nonexistent. My mind wonders to Kiara, and I imagine what she and Ellie have planned for tonight. Are they talking about me? I grin, liking the idea of being the topic of conversation.
I get to the bar before Grant. I order myself a beer and slide into a booth. Taking a sip, I sigh as the amber liquid runs down my throat. Fuck, that’s good. I’m on my second by the time Grant arrives. He spots me and waves, stopping at the bar to order himself a drink. Carrying it over, he sets it down on the table and grins at me.
“I see you’ve already started.”
“Yeah, well, after the day I’ve had, I need it.”
“Kids giving you the shits?” He chuckles.
“The kids are fine—it’s the parents and other teachers who are the little shits. Seriously, sometimes I wish I’d just stuck to teaching.”
“It’ll get better when you settle in,” Grant says encouragingly. “You’ve only been there a few weeks. It’s got to be hard getting into a rhythm.”
“True,” I agree. “So, how’s things with you? How’s Ellie?”
“Yeah, things are great. Work’s great and things at home are great.” He shrugs and laughs. “Honestly, there’s not much to say.”
“So she and Kiara are catching up tonight?” I ask innocently.
Grant chuckles. “You’re asking me what they’re up to? Chick flicks and pedicures. Trust me, dude, you want no part of that.”
“Of course not,” I say, joining in his laughter.
He studies my face, his mouth turning up into a grin. “You really like her, don’t you? I haven’t seen you this way in a long time, man.”
“She’s a nice girl,” I shrug, as the waitress comes over to take our burger order. “Of course I like her. I wish her life wasn’t so complicated, but everyone has baggage, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Grant grumbles. “She’s been through a lot, but she’s a cool chick. She deserves to be happy more than anyone I know.”
The waitress brings over our meals, and our conversation halts as we eat. Grants words echo in my head as I inhale my burger. She does deserve to be happy.
Maybe she just needs someone to remind her how that works.
We have another drink before we call it a night. On my drive home, I think about Kiara. She’s occupying more of my thoughts than I’m comfortable with. I’m not used to feeling vulnerable when it comes to women because as a rule I don’t open myself up. After last time, I’m not sure I can handle getting hurt again.
Maybe I’m setting myself up to fail. I’ve managed to set my sights on a woman more afraid of commitment than I am.
What if chasing after her is my way of sabotaging myself?
Chapter Ten
Kiara
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I say, tugging at the hem of my dress. I frown at my reflection in the mirror.
Ellie laughs behind me as she does my hair. “It’s just as friends, right? It’s not like a date.”
I narrow my eyes at the tone of her voice.
“What?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.
“You know what,” I grumble. I adjust my cleavage for the tenth time. “Do you have anything . . . less revealing? I feel way too sexy in this.”
“Is feeling too sexy actually a thing?” Ellie giggles. “It’s black-tie, Kee. What, you wanna turn up in, jeans and a tee shirt?”
“No,” I retort. “Just something that won’t have him staring at my boobs all night.”
“He’s a guy,” she says, a smile on her lips. “He’ll be staring at your boobs anyway.”
“That’s not making me feel any better,” I mutter, eyeing my reflection.
Ellie sighs and turns me around to face her. “Kee, you need to stop making a big deal out of this. You’re a gorgeous girl, and you’re going to look hot in anything. Deal with it. The only reason it’s going to be weird and awkward is if you make it that way. He invited you because you love artsy crap and you were a better bet than Grant. You forget the guy barely knows anyone here. He’s probably not even interested in you as more than a friend.”
“Gee, thanks.” I grin.
“Seriously?” Ellie throws her hands up in despair. “You’re pissed because you think he wants more than you want, and then you’re pissed because I say he’s not interested.”
“I know,” I groan. “It’s complicated.” She’s right. He’s in a new place where he doesn’t really know anyone. And we did click. He’s easy to talk to and a great listener—the perfect traits for a strong friendship. “Okay, I’m gonna stop complaining and get on with it. Let’s do this,” I exclaim, rubbing my hands together.
“Wait a sec,” Ellie says, walking over to her night table. She comes back carrying the teardrop diamond necklace Grant got her for their first anniversary. “Lose this and I’ll disembowel you.”
I chuckle as she gently drapes it around my neck and fastens the clasp. The pendant sits perfectly in the middle of my chest and really completes my look.
“Thanks, El. You’re the best sister in the world. You know that?” I wrap my arms around her.
I follow her out to the living room, where the girls are engrossed with their dolls. Tilly looks up, her eyes widening when she sees me.
“You look pretty, Momma,” she says, and I smile.
I walk over to her and lean over to kiss her on the cheek. It’s amazing the effect the words of a five-year-old can have on you.
“Thanks, sweetie. You be good for Aunt Ellie, okay?”
She nods, and giggles as I kiss her again. I glance at my watch and see it’s almost time for him to arri
ve. I don’t want Tilly to see who I’m going out with, so I kiss Ellie on the cheek and wait out the front.
My heart pounds as the seconds tick down. God, why am I so nervous? Because date or not, this is the first time I’ve been out with anyone other than Ellie and Grant since the accident. Date or not, I can’t deny that this is a huge deal for me.
I step forward and hold onto the railing that surrounds the veranda. My knees buckle as my head begins to spin, and I know I need to breathe. A car pulls to a stop outside the house. It’s too dark for me to make out anything other than the headlights, but I know it’s him. Who else would it be?
Taking a deep breath, I make my way down the path. Max meets me at the gate. My heart flutters as I take in his appearance. He stands casually with one hand in his pocket. The black suit he wears hugs his tall frame perfectly. I have to drive my eyes away from his athletic body and up to his face, where he grins at me, amused.
“I want to tell you how beautiful you look, but it’s not something I’d generally say to my friends. Unless Grant is wearing a particularly eye-catching outfit.”
I giggle, heat rising to my cheeks. I reach for the gate and let myself out, following him over to the car.
“I’ve known Grant a long time.” I laugh. “He’s not usually remembered for his fashion sense. Usually, it’s his lack of it.”
“Oh, he was so much worse in college.” Max chuckles. He reaches for the passenger door and opens it for me. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight. You’ll like Andreas. He has one of those personalities that is impossible not to enjoy.”
He is right. Andreas is loud and happy, and you can tell how much he loves his work. We walk around the gallery studying all of his pieces, I’m in awe of his talent. I could never do any of this.
“He’s amazing,” I mumble, memorized by a particular portrait of a crying woman lying in a pool of water. The pain in her eyes tugs at my heart and I wonder what she went through to get to that point.
“He is,” Max agrees. “I’m so happy for him that his talent is being seen. I’ve been telling him for years that he needs to break out of his comfort zone.”
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