by Lola StVil
In the past few days, Cash has not been the main event in my head, thanks to the upcoming play, parent-teacher night, and redecorating my classroom. But while Cash hasn’t been at the top of my list, he’s been my very favorite thing to think about. He’s kind of like dessert. You get through the rest of the meal knowing that something sweet waits for you at the end. I get comfy under the sheets and picture him lying beside me, his hand slowly sliding up my thigh.
Sky, why torture yourself? Thinking about him comes with a price and leaves a dull ache in the middle of your chest. And you don’t have time to act like a schoolgirl, it’s show day!
I peek behind the curtain and look out into the audience. We have a full house! The kids have been working so hard for so long; I’m excited that they get to show off to their families. Best of all, Kenzy signed a contract with the Board of Education to teach coding to the older kids. She’s been going around to different schools, and as of yesterday, she’s at Dr. King Elementary with me. I swear we squealed like kids when we found out.
She stayed after school to help me make sure things run smoothly during the show. I’m so glad to have her. Already today we have had three kids forget their costumes, and one kid tried to give the girls a haircut. Plus, we have no idea where Felix, our pet hamster, has gone. But Kenzy and I put all those fires out together. And we vowed, if we made it through tonight, we’d get a drink before we head home, especially since it’s Friday.
I double- and triple-check everything, and then I give the principal the signal letting her know that my class will be ready in five minutes. I’m so excited; you’d think I were the one going on stage. I help get the kids in their place, while Kenzy goes out to the auditorium to make sure every parent is accounted for—we’d hate for someone’s parents to miss their kids because they came in a few minutes late. She comes backstage and looks at me with these big eyes. I know that look.
“What is it? Whose parent didn’t show?” I ask in a whisper as I take her aside.
“Um…everybody showed up,” she says carefully.
“Okay, so why the look?” I ask.
“He’s here,” she says in disbelief.
“Who’s here?”
“Cash.”
The color drains out of my face. My heart jumps out of my body, out of the school, and into a cab, headed anywhere but here.
“What are you talking about?” I reply in a high-pitched mousy voice that I hate myself for.
“I walked out to check on the crowd; there was a guy coming inside the auditorium just before the lights went out. It’s him.”
“How do you know for sure? It could just be a random hot uncle or something,” I whisper back to her.
“Are you kidding? I know my BFF’s crush. It’s my job,” she says, slightly insulted.
“It can’t be him, Kenzy. It can’t. He wouldn’t come to a play with…” It’s getting really hot backstage. I pull on my shirt and try to cool myself down. Shit. What if he really is here?
“Hey, you got this. You are a badass, and you can handle this play and the guy out there. But, one thing at a time. Let’s get this show on the road!” she says firmly. I swallow hard and remind myself that the kids are what matters right now.
“Thanks, Kenzy,” I reply. “Okay, it’s showtime! Places!” My kids scatter and take their places. I dare to peek out from the wings, and sure enough, there’s a man at the back of the auditorium, over six feet tall and just as gorgeous as he is fit.
Crap.
There is nothing like a room full of kids to make all your other issues take a backseat. For the next half hour, my world is about them. I’m mouthing the words when they forget their lines. I’m gently guiding them onto the stage when they forget which side to enter on, and for Millicent—our resident “tomato”—I’m helping her unhook the back of her costume for a quick bathroom run.
All in all, they were fantastic! They fought their fears and stepped out onto the stage, and I could not be any prouder of them. When the lights go back up, they get a big standing ovation from the crowd, and the kids are just beside themselves. As the kids rush to see their parents, I begin helping Kenzy put the props away.
“Hey, I can do this. He’s out there, waiting for you,” she says. I frown as my pulse races. She studies the reluctance on my face. “What is it, honey?”
“I don’t know… What do I say to him?” I ask.
“Well, I’ve heard ‘hi’ is always nice.”
“Seriously, Kenzy.”
“I am being serious. He came. So go say hello. That’s all you have to think about right now, just say hello,” she says.
“But I...” She places her hand on my back and practically throws me out into the auditorium. He’s there. Waiting...for me.
“Hi,” I utter awkwardly as I make my way towards him. He beams. God, his smile could bring actual peace on Earth. Damn him. And of course, he brought his muscles; casual button-down attire never looked this good. I don’t know if I’m supposed to shake his hand or wave or what. But that decision is taken out of my hands when he pulls me in at the waist and hugs me.
His solid frame feels so good against me; it sends small electric currents down my body. I inhale his scent—fresh, clean soap and light musk. It’s so inviting. I inhale deeper—yeah, I could stay here for a little while longer.
Earth to Skylar!
I pull out of his embrace before I lose my mind completely. He grins and takes me in. I’m dressed nice enough for an assembly for kids (I’m wearing a beige pencil skirt with a purple blouse and sensible heels). But that’s not how I wanted him to see me if he ever saw me again. Screw it; there’s nothing I can do about it now. The point is he came, and that really was so damn sweet.
“I can’t believe you came,” I admit as my cheeks grow warm.
“I had to. I heard about this must-see cast, and well, you were right, ‘Low Fat Milk’ is a natural. That girl has talent,” he teases. I laugh and playfully push him away.
“Thank you for coming. I never thought…” I don’t finish my words; I just look at him. His eyes—I’ve missed them.
“I’m glad I got to see it. Your kids really are special,” he says.
Kenzy slides up behind me and says, “They have an amazing teacher. My girl, Sky, is the best there is.”
I inhale deeply, clear my throat, and remember that I love Kenzy and it’s wrong to gag her and put her in the toy closet.
“This is my best friend, Kenzy,” I reply. “And Kenzy, this is Special Agent Hunter.” He tells her she can call him Cash. And she moans.
Seriously, Kenzy!
The two of them shake hands. “Thank you for saving her the other day. She told me all about you,” Kenzy says.
Okay, so I am going to kill my best friend.
“Did she? What did she say?” he asks.
“That you were hot. I mean ‘could make paint melt off the walls’ hot,” Kenzy says as I bury my face in my hand.
I was going to kill her slowly, but now, I’m gonna make it hurt.
“Really?” he says, smirking at me when I look back up.
“Okay, well thank you for coming. I’m sure you have things to do. You know, agent-type stuff,” I counter desperately.
“Actually, I’m free right now. If you’re done here, I’d love to take you to dinner,” he says.
What’s happening?
“Oh, that would be great, but Kenzy and I have to clean up—”
“Nope, I texted Tony. He agreed to come by and help me tidy up here. So, you two can go,” Kenzy claims with a sly grin.
“Wait, when did you have a chance to call Tony?” I ask.
“When I saw your best fan sitting in the audience,” she reveals, looking Cash up and down suggestively.
“But you and I were gonna get drinks after—”
“Sorry, I agreed to go home with Tony since he was kind enough to come and help me. And speaking of kind enough, don’t let this guy starve to death. Say yes and go to dinn
er already.”
Damn that girl is pushy.
“If you don’t want to…” Cash begins. Kenzy looks at me as if to say “Do not fuck this up.”
Shit.
“Ah, no! I do want to go to dinner with you. But can we go to my place so that I can change?” I ask.
He looks at me, perplexed. “Why would you change? You look beautiful.”
Sky is shocked that I came to see her show. Honestly, it was all I could do these past few days to stay away. I didn’t want to see her; I needed to see her. I needed to get my fix, and that scares the shit out of me. I have access to all her info; it’s not hard to pull up someone’s records. Especially since she’s a teacher and by law has to have her prints on file. But I wouldn’t invade her privacy like that. Besides, a computer can’t tell me the things I really want to know about her.
I’m glad to be standing in front of Sky right now; this has been the best part of my week. The past few days have really sucked. A few days ago, I learned that once again the court has denied the Hudson family’s petition to unseal the records of what happened on my mission to Mexico. The court’s decision was something I hoped for, but it brought the nightmares back. Any mention of the Mexico op is normally followed by sleepless nights and waves of regret and self-doubt. And for days I will have flashbacks, and everything will play on a loop:
The bullets, the begging, and the blood.
This morning I woke up from the nightmare in a cold sweat. I made my way to the shower hoping that it would wash away the flashes in my head, but it didn’t; it never does. My day continued to go to hell. I got to work just in time to be suspended for hitting that prick, Doyle. I will never get how a guy can be such a prick and not know how to take a decent punch. And although I hate taking time off, I don’t regret hitting him for one second. If I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing.
And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any crappier, on my way out of the gym, I found Tyler waiting for me. Tyler Hudson is my ex-partner Hank’s son. He’s seventeen and has clear blue eyes, like his dad. Tyler has made it his mission to ruin my life. I guess it’s only fitting since he thinks I blew up his world, and well, maybe I did.
“The court denied our petition to unseal the case file,” he declared with great disdain as he blocked my path to the sidewalk.
“Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry,” I replied.
“Bullshit! You’re not sorry. You and the entire DEA are lying to me. You think you’re gonna get away with it but you won’t.”
“Tyler, you have spent over a year on this—your dad wouldn’t want that for you. He’d want you to try and find a way to move on from this.”
“What he’d want is to be here with his family, but that can’t happen. And you’re the reason why.”
“I told you it was an accident. And I shouldn’t have even said that much.”
“No, it wasn’t! My dad would come home and brag about how his ‘hotshot’ younger partner never missed a shot. He told me you were an expert marksman. There’s no fucking way you shot my dad by mistake. Something else went down, and I want to know what really happened,” he raged.
There was so much anger and pain in his voice, and I sighed deeply as a wave of sympathy washed over me. His eyes were gripped by sorrow and pure desperation. I stepped closer to him, wanting to reach out to him, but he backed off as I feared he would.
Christ, this kid is so lost.
“You and the department think you can stop me but you won’t. I will find out what happened to my dad. I will find out why you shot him and left him to die. And don’t tell me that stuff about him getting hit in the crossfire. I’ve studied your family. I know all of you grew up around guns. You don’t make that kind of misstep. You killed my father, and I swear to God, you will pay for taking him away. Do you hear me? You will fucking pay!” he vowed as he stormed off.
I stood there as guilt rolled in and made a home in my chest. Tyler’s rage was only growing with time, not weakening as I had hoped. I pictured telling him the truth, but that thought only lasted a few moments. However hurt and broken Tyler is right now, the truth could only hurt him more. And I won’t do that. I will never tell him what really happened in Mexico. He thinks he needs to know the truth but he’s wrong, the truth can only do more harm. But the one thing Tyler is right about is this: I did shoot his father, and no, it wasn’t by accident…
***
Coming to see Sky was the only thing I had to look forward to. It’s probably not wise, but I don’t care. I’m in way over my head—I know that. Sky’s world is so different from mine; the only way our two worlds should collide is by accident and for a limited time. And yet, here we are in my favorite family-owned Italian restaurant, sitting in the corner booth.
She looks incredible without even trying. She keeps looking up from her menu as if she expects me to disappear. When she sees that I’m still there, she gets somewhat shy and hides her eyes behind the menu. It’s frustrating because I love her sunset eyes and she’s keeping them from me. But it’s also adorable as fuck. I ask her if she sees anything on the menu she might like to try, but her voice gets lost in the crowd of other diners. I’m not sure how she’ll feel about this, but I ask anyway.
“Hey, how would you feel about taking the food to go? We’ll go to my place.”
I can see her mood shift the moment I suggest it. Her expression is a mix of irritation and disappointment. I quickly clarify before her icy stare freezes me over.
“I don’t mean it like that, gorgeous. It’s hard to hear you; we’ll go to the rooftop at my place, pretty quiet.”
“Well, yeah. Okay,” she says, more to be polite than anything. We get our food to go and soon we’re standing outside my townhouse.
“This place is so beautiful. You live upstairs or downstairs?” she asks.
“I own both floors.”
“Okay, I totally should have gone into law enforcement.”
“No, my grandfather left each of us a townhouse in his will,” I explain as we make our way up to the roof.
“How many of you are there?”
“Including me, five boys and my sister, Rose. But she passed away—cancer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. Rose was something else.”
“What was she like?”
“She was tough. She had to be, with five bothers. She held her own. She never let us push her around. She believed she could do anything. Most kids are that way, but with Rose, even as she got older, she still had that ‘I can do anything’ spirit about her,” I reply. I don’t realize I’m drifting into thoughts of my baby sister until Sky takes my hand tenderly and looks into my eyes.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” I reply, then take a deep breath.
“Well, the outside looks great.”
“Come on; let’s get on the roof,” I reply as I take her hand in mine. Damn, her hands are soft. I hold onto them long after we get to the roof. She takes in the view, the small garden, and the sitting area.
“That’s the best view of the Brooklyn Bridge I’ve ever seen! Oh, and this garden is just…wow. It must be nice to live here.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’m not home often, but when I am, I try to make it out here. The garden was Rose’s idea. She thought it would feel more like a home. I guess it’s because this place is mostly empty throughout the year.”
“You work that much?” she asks.
“Undercover work isn’t exactly nine to five. I can be gone for weeks at a time,” I reply as we set up the food on the small glass table. She helps put things in place.
“You like your job?” she wonders.
“I love it. But it does come with some awful parts.”
“I can imagine.”
“I hope not, babe.”
“So…do you bring all the women you date here?” she inquires as we start to eat.
“I don’t date.”
“What do you mean?”
“After a case, I come home, go to a bar, spend a few hours with a woman, and then get my ass back here and sleep.”
“Oh,” she says, wondering if she should push the subject further.
“I don’t seek out anything I can’t get out of in an hour or so. It’s just not a good idea with the job I have. Relationships are the first casualties in my line of work,” I explain.
“So you hook up with a woman, and she never sees you again?” she asks as she sticks her fork into the pasta and twirls the noodles around, with no intention of taking a bite. She just needs something to do with her hands.
“My dad taught all us boys a really important lesson when it came to women. He said treat her the way you’d want a guy to treat Rose. And I would want my sister to be with a guy who is honest. If it’s just a one-night thing, that’s okay, so long as both parties know that’s what it is.”
“Sounds fair,” she says, avoiding eye contact. This woman is going to drive me to the damn nuthouse; I just know it.
“Sky, just say what’s on your mind,” I suggest.
“Is this a one-night thing?” she boldly asks.
“Do you want it to be?”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” she admits.
“I don’t think that’s what this is, but I don’t know for sure. What I can say is that I’ve been thinking about you ever since we met and I’d like to get to know as much about you as I can. That’s new for me,” I admit.
Damn, it sounds even worse when I say it out loud. I’m fucking falling for this woman and now it’s out there. Fuck me. What if she says she just wants one night? It would be a great night, but just one would be hard. I’d want so much more from her.
Seriously, Cash, who are you right now?
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she admits softly.
“You have?”
“Yes. Often.”
Cash, don’t grin like an idiot. Just be cool.
