The closer I get to the top, the older we get in the photos. The last few stop me in my tracks as I realize I’m not in them. These are pictures of Ash, Piper, and even Jameson. The last few years I’ve been gone, they’ve been here and together. Life moved on without me. What Piper said at her place is true. I’m going with them to the lake next week. I’m the outsider in this group.
As I come to this realization I focus on the last photo. It’s a picture of the girls in a selfie. I can tell that it’s pretty recent and from the background can tell it’s at the lake. The smile on Piper’s face is sweet and real. Those whiskey-colored eyes of hers are sparkling. She looks truly happy and invigorating. My eyes fall to Ashton in the picture. Equally as happy, my big brother heart is full of love for my sister. I will never intentionally do anything to hurt her.
I finish my trek to my bedroom and once inside I kick off my boots, which are immediately followed by my belt and my shirt. I lay down on my bed and vow to stay friends with Piper and not pursue anything. As I make this vow, I begin repeating my new personal mantra, “friends and co-workers,” and know every single time I say it, I mean it.
Mostly.
I’m ninety-seven percent sure I won’t pursue anything. Someone may want to talk to that three percent.
To say that I slept last night would be a lie. I don’t know what possessed me to text Ben after he left my apartment. So stupid. I lay awake all night wondering if there was a way I could claim momentary insanity. Or drunkenness. Something, really anything, to give me an excuse for being flirty and reaching out unnecessarily.
I glance at the clock and am not surprised it’s just a little after sunrise. I drag myself out of bed and go straight to my dresser and grab my running bra and shorts. I need to run this feeling out of me and, hopefully, run out this attraction I have to my best friend’s brother.
A quick stop by the bathroom before I put my sneakers on shows the signs of just how little sleep I had last night. I strap my phone onto my arm and grab my earbuds. I take off at a slow pace and contemplate the position I’ve put myself in. I’ve had a crush on Bentley Sullivan most of my life. A completely one-sided crush. The day he left for college was a sad and empowering day. I no longer had to watch him fawn all over Claire and wish I was the pretty, popular, kind, smart, funny girl he was holding hands with in the halls or on the Sullivans’ couch.
I cannot believe how easily I can find my way back to that place of insecurity and self-doubt. This only confirms what my mother has said to me since I was a little girl: no matter how far and fast you run, the past always catches up. Of course, my mother was talking about men and her poor choices when it came to said men. Regardless of her intent, this saying holds true to my opinions of myself, and how no matter how hard I have worked, they manage to reappear from time to time.
I pick up the pace as I start making my way out of my neighborhood and toward the edge of town. I pass Peabody Elementary and smile. With only about two weeks until the new school year starts, I cannot wait to get back into a routine and meet my new students. I’ve finally found my stride in timing with the music on my run playlist and find all of the tension leaving my body. With each breath a piece of the tension falls away and I breathe a little easier.
An hour after leaving my apartment I find myself under the warm spray of the shower. I have a clearer head and am committed to moving past this kiss nonsense and the little butterflies in my tummy response I had to hanging out with Ben last night. I need to focus on the upcoming school year and nothing else.
I finish getting myself ready and shoot a text off to Ashton that I’m heading to my classroom to start preparing it for the new year. She doesn’t respond, and when I look at the clock I realize that’s because she’s probably still asleep. It is, after all, when most people that have day jobs are only getting up to start their day.
After a few hours in the classroom I stop to take a look around. I really love every moment I have in this room. Watching little minds come alive as they start discovering that education is an honor and a privilege. Of course, teaching the kids of some of the people I grew up with is sometimes less of an honor. I look over the list of my incoming students with notes and see that once again the Karma Gods are plotting against me.
Fantastic. I throw myself in my chair and lean back rubbing my temples. Felicity Remington hyphen Thorne. Note the hyphen for future reference and need for her to have the longest name in the universe. I knew this day would come but I pretended that somehow the little spawn of the she-devil would be a genius and skip kindergarten and go straight into first grade. No such luck.
A glorious cup of goodness lands on my desk and startles me out of my chair.
“Hey, sister from another mister.”
“Ashton, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Oh you must really need this if you’re cussing in the classroom.”
“Whatever,” I say as I reach for the cup of coffee and sit back down in my chair.
“Whatcha got there, doll face? Your class list? Gimme,” she demands, holding out her hand. I hand the list to her and watch as she looks it over and her eyes land on little Thorne in My Side.
“Ah, Felicity. God she’s such a bitch. I bet her little kid is rotten, too. Your year is about to suck.”
“Wow, thanks, Ash. I have another few weeks until I have to deal with this, let’s not discuss it. What are you even doing here?”
“I was bored. Stupid Ben is stomping around the house grunting and mumbling some sort of mantra or some shit. I don’t know. He was bugging me. I wanted to go look at apartments again and figured you could stand getting out of here.”
Here we go again. “I’ll go with you, but you know I’m not moving in with you, right? We’ve talked about this.”
She rolls her eyes at me like she’s one of my students and hops off the desk she had perched herself on.
“Whatevs. Come on.”
My turn to roll my eyes and pull myself up from my chair. Ashton grabs my hand and starts dragging me for the door as I manage to snag my purse off the counter before closing the door.
“Okay, geez. I may need my arm, ya know. What’s your hurry anyway?”
“What? Oh, sorry. No hurry I just want to get out of this building. You know it creeps me out.”
I laugh. One of Ash’s odd phobias is small children. She hates helping me with anything that has to do with my kids.
“You are so strange sometimes,” I reply as we walk out of the building and toward her car.
“Fear of small children is a real phobia; you shouldn’t mock me. That has to be some sort of law or something.”
“Pretty sure it isn’t but fine, I’ll stop for now,” I concede as I buckle myself into the car and prepare for another afternoon of Ashton loving every apartment she can’t afford and me reminding her of her budget. We play this game every other weekend and, while it drives me nuts half the time, it makes her feel like living with her parents isn’t forever.
Four hours, six apartments, and half a pizza later I’m finally home and on my couch. As expected it was six “I love this place! It’s perfect!” from Ashton and six “budget buster” replies from me. I love my best friend, I really do, but her idea of a budget versus what the rest of the world considers a budget is vastly different.
The long day I’ve had hits me like a ton of bricks and I look over at the television that is a blank dark screen. The remote is just out of arm’s reach and I have to talk myself into grabbing it. I flip on a marathon of Dateline and snuggle into my comfy fuzzy blanket and close my eyes.
I’ve spent the last week cutting, pasting, organizing, and hanging up everything to make the kindergartners feel welcome and less overwhelmed. I look around my room and it’s coming along great. Thankfully I have another few days to finish it up before our weekend at the lake.
Normally Ashton and I will hang out a few times throughout the week or I’ll go in to Country Road at least once or twice, but I’ve
been spending time with Netflix this week. I’m not avoiding anyone or intentionally keeping myself busy. Nope, I needed to clean out my closet, deep condition my hair, and alphabetize my canned goods.
There is always a silver lining to everything and, this week, that silver lining is not seeing Tony. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard from him either. That in itself is strange. I’ve never known him to give up on anything without a fight. Not a parking space, not a pick-up basketball game, and surely not a girlfriend breaking up with him.
I finish setting up the reading corner, choosing to stick with a classic Dr. Seuss theme this year, before deciding to call it a day. I grab my things and turn the lights off as I make my way out of the school to my car. I love the history of this school. When our grandparents attended this school, it was actually the middle and high school. Gradually, as the town grew the school changed along with it and is one of two elementary schools. I glance toward the playground and smile at the memories I have.
Lost in thought, I almost don’t see the flowers laying on top of my windshield. I look around and don’t see anyone who may responsible. No card, no surprise. I pull the roses from the windshield and it is less than ten seconds before my sinuses start filling and the pressure in my head makes itself known. Obviously the person who so lovingly thought of me didn’t know that I am allergic to roses. I walk the bouquet to the trash can on the sidewalk before returning to my car and taking the hand sanitizer from its home in the center console.
I slather on enough of the stuff to compete with an actual bath. My efforts are for not because the sneezing begins in sets of four with no end in sight. Damn flowers.
I’m in the middle of a set of sneezes when a knock on my window startles me.
I slowly peer up at the knock and see Ben with a concerned look on his face. I hold my finger up to signal for him to wait as I finish out the current set of sneezes. Once I finish, I turn my key and roll down the window.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, just allergies. I’m fine, thanks,” I croak out. My voice sounds like I swallowed a jar of razorblades and I can feel my eyes watering uncontrollably. Sexy.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
“I’m sure. I should go.”
“Wait, umm … what are you doing now?”
I want to tell him I’m currently trying to breathe and that I probably look like a raccoon with my mascara running down my face. I want to say that he’s making my stomach do flip flops standing here with his forearms leaning on my car and his dark, chocolate eyes looking at me with concern. Of course, he still hasn’t shaved so he has that perpetual scruff happening, too. Jerk. I look down as his hand touches my forearm and look up to see him looking at me confused.
“Huh? Oh, nothing. Why what’s up?”
“You sure you’re okay? Do you want me to take you to the doctor or something?”
“What? No, don’t be silly. I’m fine. Just the sneezing and all, I’m a little slow. Why’d you want to know what I’m doing?”
“If you’re sure. I wanted to see if you could help me figure out what to get Ashton for her birthday. We’re having family dinner tonight to celebrate and I haven’t picked anything up yet. I’m kind of at a loss at this point.”
“I-” That’s all I can say before I sneeze again. “Sorry. Ugh, stupid roses.”
“Why did you have roses? You’re allergic.”
“You know that I’m allergic to roses?”
“Of course. Remember that time my dad filled the house with roses for my mom’s birthday? You were sicker than a dog and my parents felt so bad.”
I start laughing because I do remember. Paul had wanted to surprise Patty for their fifteenth anniversary and filled the house with fifteen dozen roses. Like every other weekend I was spending the night and the minute I walked in the house I started sneezing. It got so bad they thought they’d have to call an ambulance. Instead they called my mom, who explained my allergy and came and picked me up. I was so embarrassed because Bentley and Jameson had been there to see me in all of my snotty glory.
“I forgot about that; it was awful. I can’t help you though, I really need to get home and shower. That’s all that will really help me get this pollen off of me. Plus, I will be at dinner tonight and I need to still pick up my gift before. I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Shit. I really need help, Piper. Please. What if I go pick up your gift for her and then pick you up? That’ll save you time while you get ready and then you can help me out. What do you say?”
I say he really needs to shave and not look so damn handsome leaning in my window looking helpless. I also say this is a bad idea.
“Okay.”
I say a lot of things. To myself, obviously. I’ll likely regret this but nobody ever said I was the smartest girl. He offers me a smile that sends the flutters in my belly to make their way downtown. Slow down there, lady bits, get a grip. I find the claim ticket in my purse for the engraved compact I picked out for Ash and hand it to him. The moment his fingers touch mine my breath catches and I swear I see his eyes go wide.
“Uh, yeah, so thanks for getting that for me. I’ll see you what, like an hour?”
“Forty-five minutes okay? We don’t want to be too late or Ash will never let us live it down. It is her day, after all.”
We both laugh and I agree to forty-five minutes. Although I’m pushing it by sitting here, I can’t help but allow myself a few seconds of watching Ben walk away. The way the shorts ride low on his hips and his leg muscles flex as he walks, I’m going to need to make that a cold shower. Just as I put my car in gear he turns back toward me and smirks.
So busted. I offer a shy little wave and he shakes his head at me.
I have less than forty minutes before he’ll be here to pick me up. I have no time to waste and work double time to get ready. Thankfully the evenings are still warm and the Sullivans always grill out for Ashton’s birthday. It’s her requirement, along with strawberry shortcake for dessert. And presents. Really her only requirement is presents. For someone who gets stage fright and doesn’t do well in crowds, Ashton loves being the center of attention.
Once I’ve showered and chosen a simple summer dress, I reach for my signature cowboy boots. Glancing at the clock, I note I either have time for makeup or my hair. Hair wins out and I am just finishing when there is a knock on my door. I grab the card I have for Ash, open the door, and momentarily lose my ability to breathe.
Standing before me dressed casually in a pair of shorts and collared navy-blue shirt showing off his very toned and tan arms, wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses with his hands in his pockets … is the man who has starred in more of my dreams in the past week than I care to admit. Wow, that shirt hugs him just right. I bet if I reached out I’d feel the ripple of his abs through the fabric. If I just put my hand out … no, no, Piper, no naughty thoughts. Just appreciate his perfectness and move right along.
I double blink and am pulled from my thoughts as he clears his throat and removes his sunglasses to hang off the front of his shirt.
“Wow, Piper. You look beautiful.”
I roll my eyes in response as I grab the gift bag from him.
“Don’t sound so surprised, Ben. I’m not an awkward teenager anymore. I thought you already had that part figured out.” I step out and turn to lock the front door. I take and release a deep breath as I finish and move past him to begin my descent down the stairs. I hear his footsteps behind me as I make my way to his truck.
I attempt to open the truck’s door, but it’s locked. I can hear Ben’s footsteps as I stand there with my arms crossed in a childish and stubborn stance. This is a bad idea. The minute I opened that door and saw him standing there I should have said I couldn’t help him. I should have not answered the door. Thank goodness I can blame the heat on my sweaty palms and inability to sit still. As the truck signals that Ben has unlocked the door, I put my hand on the handle, but before I can open it h
e places his hand on mine.
“I’m not surprised, Princess. That was a moment of my breath being taken away. Don’t be so defensive; accept a compliment, would ya?”
I turn to him and see nothing but sincerity and maybe a little frustration in his eyes.
“You’re right,” I say as I offer him an apologetic smile. “Thank you, Cowboy. Now, are you going to let me open this door so we can figure out what to get your sister for her birthday?”
He laughs and shakes his head at me. Not another word is exchanged as he opens the door for me and then makes his way around to his side. Once he’s in and pulled away I realize we haven’t even talked about what he’s thinking of for a gift.
“So we should probably figure out what you want to get her before we start this little adventure.”
“Oh, I already got her gift.”
“What? I thought that’s why you were picking me up.”
“It was, but then I remembered I already had something for her. My bad.” He motions to a bag identical to the one I have in my lap.
“How do you forget you already have a gift? Why didn’t you let me know we weren’t going shopping? I could have used the extra time to do more with myself.” I begin straightening the skirt of my dress and messing with my hair.
“You look perfect so no more time was necessary. Plus, I want you to see something and give me your opinion.”
I just stare at him while I process this entire gift thing. Did he really forget he had a gift or was he messing with me? My frustration mounts as his nonchalant attitude takes over the cab of the truck.
“So let me get this straight. You just happened to find the perfect gift while picking up mine?” He shrugs in response. “Whatever, this is ridiculous. Where are you taking me?” No answer. “Can we just go to your parents’ house? I’ll help Patty with dinner.”
Whiskey & Honey Page 6
