by Jae Dawson
“I’m on your side, Bella.” Mr. Kelley lifted his hands in surrender. “This isn’t my decision. The Superintendent made this arrangement with the Hartwood Falls Police Department and Mr. Owens’s lawyer. Since you saw his arrest, I didn’t think I needed to explain these extenuating circumstances.”
My entire body deflated until the back of my head fell over the chair’s edge and I stared at the gypsum board-tiled ceiling. As if it held the very answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. Singing dolphins popped into my head and I resisted the urge to hum, “So Long and Thanks for all the Fish.” A fitting farewell song to my sanity and any shred of hope that I would be able to save my own job. Cade probably wouldn’t even get my reference to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. And, more importantly, probably didn’t know the first thing about musical theater.
“So, riddle me this?” I asked, rolling back to a straight posture. “How will Mr. Owens be my department’s knight in shining armor?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Both Mr. Kelley and I whipped our heads Cade’s direction.
I’d been trying to pretend he didn’t exist, but I couldn’t help myself, I took in his presence—his full presence. Long legs stretched out and crossed casually at the ankles, his skinny jeans rolled up just above scuffed Doc Marten combat boots. Toned arms crossed over his chest. And the way he leaned back on the chair pulled at his black, vintage Rolling Stones tee until a few inches of his torso begged for my appreciation. But those eyes . . . those gorgeous dark blue eyes I had once wanted to get lost in settled on my face.
Cade tilted his head—a challenge and another emotion I couldn’t decipher. The lines around his mouth relaxed and his Adam’s apple noticeably bobbed. A light flush crept up his far-too-handsome face. A face, I noted, that was still mildly swollen around the eyes and nose. Was he embarrassed? But just as quickly as his features softened, they hardened once more. All traces of vulnerability gone.
“You think I’m flattered?” I shot back after lifting from my daze.
Mr. Kelley cleared his throat again. “Ms. Pagano, I think perhaps—”
“Ms. Pagano,” Cade practically purred, followed by a taunting smirk. “I’m not here for you.”
Any pity I once felt for him, any guilt I had felt for my part in his madcap getaway dissolved with his last word. I no longer cared if he had just lost his grandmother.
Okay, I did. But that wasn’t the point.
“Mr. Owens,” I tossed back at him. “You drove while drunk and were arrested. And now my department, my students, are your community service charity case. Is this correct?” Cade had the decency to lower his eyes. “My students might worship you, but let’s be real. You’re no role model.”
Mr. Kelley pretended to move paperwork around, gnawing the inside of his lip. Clearly, he felt similarly. So, I continued.
“I already have a high-risk student in my care. One who also accepted community service as his punishment for driving while drunk in the school parking lot instead of being charged.”
Cade winced.
“So no, I’m not flattered.”
“What’s his story?” Cade asked, his voice strangely soft.
The sudden change in demeanor caught me off guard and I considered him a few seconds. Should I share? It was Jeremy’s story to tell. But, pretty much the whole town knew already. Cade could ask anyone.
I had read through his file yesterday. “His father’s a long-haul trucker, so gone for weeks at a time. His mother left three years ago and hasn’t contacted them, not even once. He’s been in his barely adult sister’s care ever since.”
He simply nodded, as if that was an everyday occurrence. Then he looked around the room, a muscle ticking in his jaw once again.
That was it? No other response?
“Mr. Kelley, anything else?” I asked, ready to bolt for the door. Jeremy’s angry exit made all the sense now.
“Cade will be onsite after school every Tuesday and Thursday through September and October as your music assistant. He will also be an assembly highlight on the dangers of drinking and driving.”
Of course, it was Tuesdays and Thursdays. My eyes wanted to roll so hard at the unfairness of being strapped to this irreverent human being for the next forty-five days. Jeremy I could sympathize with. Cade Owens? He was too old for this bad boy with a tragic past adolescent behavior.
Without another word, I rose from my chair and strode from the office.
Chapter Seven
Cade
I hadn’t been in this office in nine years. The lightning-esque crack in the far wall was patched up. The decades-old yellow paint had been replaced by fresh white. Strangely, the ceiling tiles were the same, including the water stained one just left of the principal’s desk. It was the smell, however, that took me back most. A weird mixture of stale coffee and cleaning supplies. It seemed the janitor’s closet was still the next door over.
Mr. Kelley was exactly how I remembered him too—though with less hair and bushier eyebrows. I hadn’t thought those eyebrows could get any bigger.
“You better chase after her,” the older man said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
I chuckled bitterly. “I’ll pass.”
“Face the storm head-on, son.” Mr. Kelley leaned forward on his desk. “That’s what you do with Bella Pagano.”
“That right?” I slowly rose from the chair, feeling like a troubled teenager in the principal’s office all over again. “Enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” I couldn’t help the smile at his quip. “Your Gran was a tornado too.”
“Yeah.” My momentary humor drained into the commercial blue carpet beneath my boots and an aching hollowness filled its space. I needed to move, to get back home and check on Gramps. Not fall apart in the principal’s office like old times. “See you next week.”
With that, I strode down the hallway, my head down, refusing to meet the curious eyes of school secretaries and gawking teenagers.
I pushed out the door, angling past students waiting for a late pickup, and toward Kenzie’s rental car. My license was temporarily revoked for sixty days. God, I was an idiot. It didn’t help that my grandparent’s house was across town, a good couple of miles away. The weather would turn any day now, too. These were the last days of sun before the Pacific Northwest rained for months and months on end. Not sure how I was going to get here twice a week, possibly every day for tech week and performances too. But I would figure that out later.
Kenzie’s rental—a black Mustang convertible—wasn’t too far away. Her head was bent over her phone, per usual. I could hear excited chatter behind me as starry-eyed fangirls hyper-focused on my every step. There was a time I enjoyed that kind of attention—being a sexual fantasy, an object of desire. My blood had cooled years ago, though. Now I felt seen and, yet, completely invisible. People only saw what they wanted to see. And I let them. Despite their best efforts, the public hadn’t stolen the real me, the man left behind when the cameras and microphones turned off. But some days I felt it wearing me down—grinding on me. Celebrity status was a shit show, week after week.
I reached for the convertible’s door handle, ready to slide in and hide from all the watchful eyes. But movement over the car’s roof and a voice—her voice—froze me where I stood. Bella Pagano paced back and forth next to an older white Kia Forte, one hand holding a phone to her ear, the other stabbing the air as she spoke.
Afternoon sunlight gilded strands of her long dark, almost black, wavy hair and glowed off her rich, olive-toned skin. My eyes trailed down her bare arms to her slim waist; I couldn’t help but appreciate the way her hips swayed with each indignant step. And those legs. God, those legs. They were toned, graceful, and seemed to express an equal amount of emotion as her wildly fluttering hands. She moved like a dancer.
Get a grip.
I was intrigued by her force-of-nature presence, appreciative of her gorgeous body, n
ot drawn to her. She was a pain in my ass. I didn’t see that changing, either. My lawyer mentioned I would be working with a Ms. Belladonna Pagano to satisfy my community service sentence. And when she walked into the principal’s office, my heart had dropped into my stomach while my blood simultaneously boiled. She hadn’t made me drink, but she’d had a hand in my current predicament.
And here we were, in another parking lot.
“No visit tonight. I just need . . . They’re called yoga pants, Mamma . . . how dare you insult my yoga pants . . . yes, you did. Don’t deflect . . .”
She was fighting with her mom over yoga pants?
And her accent . . . was that New York? I didn’t recall hearing that accent Tuesday night or in the office just now.
The passenger side window rolled down and pulled my attention away from Bella. Kenzie leaned over and playfully nibbled on her bottom lip. “Hey sexy, need a ride?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you always pick up men in high school parking lots?”
“Ew, Cade.” She made a dainty retching sound before returning to her phone, her fingers tapping away at inhuman speeds. “Way to ruin a fantasy. Get in. We have work to do.”
“One sec.”
I didn’t wait for her response. Lifting my shoulders a notch, I strode over to where Bella had halted her steps, her back to me.
“Do you look like Sophia Loren while lounging at home, alone? . . . If a man doesn’t appreciate my yoga pants, he’s not worth having in my life because he’ll be seeing a lot of them . . .”
They were still discussing her yoga pants?
“Mamma, I’m not in the mood for this. Why did you call me? . . . Tarot cards?” Bella groaned, dragging her fingers through her hair. “Can we discuss this tomorrow? Please? . . . Thank you. Okay. Yeah, dinner tomorrow sounds great . . . Love you too.”
Bella pivoted on her heel and flinched, her free hand flying to rest above her heart.
“Yoga pants?” A corner of my mouth lifted.
The dark-haired tornado leaned against her car, then firmly crossed her arms over her chest. And damn, those breasts. Her scoop-line shirt and skin-tight capris outlined every tempting curve on her—
“What do you want, Mr. Owens?”
The question brought me up short. I wasn’t sure what I wanted from her. I didn’t even know what had compelled me to float over to her car to stare like a complete creep while she fought with her mom over yoga pants and tarot cards.
A strand of guilt knotted in my throat. Regardless of her part in anything, I really had been a complete asshole Tuesday night and this afternoon. And Gran would tell me to own my shit.
Gran.
Dammit. Would this pang in my chest ever let up? I couldn’t breathe.
“I, uh . . .” I began, then sighed—deep, slow, painfully. “I’m sorry.”
She pushed off her car. “You’re what?”
“You heard me.” Complete. Asshole. I shifted on my feet and closed my eyes in a long, weary blink. “Look,” I began again, forcing myself to meet her wing-tipped, dark brown eyes. I wasn’t ready to apologize again. That required a level of transparency my overwhelmed emotional state couldn’t handle a second time. So, I changed directions. “I played Danny in The Outsiders my junior year of high school. And Cinderella’s Prince Charming in Into the Woods my senior year—”
“Type casted?”
I rolled my eyes. “The point is—”
“I get the point, Mr. Owens.” She stepped toward me and Jesus, I almost stepped back. “I worked two jobs to support myself through college and gave up my summers to earn a Masters’ in performing arts and education. I’ll be paying off student loans for the next twenty years too. And all so a rock star with a drinking problem can waltz into my life and steal the show.”
My shoulders stiffened. My eyes narrowed; my teeth clenched. She took another step forward and my heart thundered behind my ribs. God, she was terrifying. But I was too pissed to see the storm anymore, or care about apologies. And her next words solidified every reason why.
“I don’t get to smile and flirt my way through life.”
Once again, I was reduced to my looks as my only value. My currency, as Kenzie put it. Whatever. I didn’t have time for her pity party. If she thought I was no more than an asshole with a pretty face, I could play that role. I knew there was more to me than that. My smile wasn’t going to help Gramps get better. I couldn’t flirt my way out of how Burning Umbrage was now firmly under Corinth Record’s evil eye—because I chose to be charged. Because I chose my grandfather over my career and my bandmates.
So, I looked her up and down in one dismissive move and walked backward a few angry steps, before giving her what she wanted. A devilish smile. Followed by a suggestive bite of my lower lip, then a slow, confident turn to swagger away. “Hey, I tried.” As I lazily sauntered back to Kenzie, I threw over my shoulder, my voice smooth and seductive, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped staring at my perfect ass, Ms. Pagano.” Then I muttered to myself, “You can kiss it instead.”
A group of teenage girls giggled nearby and I picked up my pace, swearing under my breath. The black Mustang convertible seemed miles away instead of only a few more steps.
“I wouldn’t kiss your ass if it were the last ass on earth,” she called after me.
Shit. She wasn’t supposed to hear that last part. But I’d be damned if I let her get the last word. I turned smoothly as I opened the car door, appearing unruffled. “We’ll see. Women like you always beg me eventually.”
Cell phones were recording right now. Social media would be buzzing within minutes. Kenzie would have my head on a platter by dinner and Bella would hate me even more. But what the hell did it matter. It was always something.
“Cade, honey, breaking hearts again?” Kenzie asked as I slid into the passenger seat. “I already feel Twitter ready to orgasm over whatever those girls are recording. Please tell me you didn’t just ruin another night of sleep?”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, saving me from answering her. If there was anything Kenzie understood, it was responding to text notifications as they came in.
Bale: Dammit, Cade. Answer us.
I had ignored my bandmates all day yesterday and most of today. The shame was too much. And Devon’s silence was deafening.
Andy: blow a kiss to Bale. can’t take his pining anymore
Bale: screw you
Andy: u touch his cheek every night. that poster next to ur bed is embarrassing.
Shit, I missed those assholes. The grin on my face earned Kenzie’s attention. But I ignored her and started typing.
Cade: miss ur sexy ass too
Andy: we could make this a threesome
Bale: ur ass is too ugly
Andy: it’s perfect
Bale: no means no, Andy
I resisted the urge to burst into laughter. Andy was shameless. He lived to poke and prod others. Bale was equally as quick witted, though. I could almost see the satisfied slant of Bale’s smile and Andy flipping him off with a shit-eating grin.
But my best friend . . .
Devon’s silence hurt. Not that I was reaching out to him either. Still, he had always been there for me, always checked in—even after Houston. He’d been the one to sit me down. To tell me to man up and get my shit together, before I lost everything. And I had. Until two nights ago. I couldn’t dwell on his stonewalling right now.
Kenzie drove down the two-lane Main street through the center of Hartwood Falls, clucking her tongue. “Is this place real? It’s like the Hallmark Channel threw up.” She screeched to a halt at a stop sign to let a good-looking family cross. The mother pushed a stroller, and the father bent over to hold his toddler’s hands as the little boy made his unsteady way across the street. My heart squeezed slightly at the sight. Something so normal—so loving . . . would I ever have that?
“Ugh! Get a move on, kid!” Kenzie snapped her fingers.
“He’s what, two?” I said. “Cut h
im some slack.”
The dad waved at us with a smile and Kenzie gave a fake smile back before hitting the gas pedal like a race car driver. “That kid would have been taken out at the knees in L.A. You gotta be quick if you want to make it.”
“Hartwood is like . . . the opposite of L.A. Everything is slow and friendly. Everyone knows everyone.”
“Sounds suffocating.”
I used to think that too, but now the idea of just a small town knowing me, rather than an entire world, sounded pretty damn appealing.
“Are they seriously already decorating for Halloween?”
I peered out the window at a man on a ladder, threading fake spiderwebs from the ornate wrought iron lamp posts lining the main street.
“Holidays are serious business here, Kenzie. The whole town transforms with every season.”
“God, Cade, we need to break you the hell out of this freaky Twilight zone town. Did you know I couldn’t even get cold brew here?”
“What?” I murmured. “The injustice.”
Kenzie turned onto my street, ignoring my playful jab, and pulled over before my grandparents’ house.
My playful mood dropped out from under me like a stone. No. Gramps’s driveway.
The vice grip around my lungs was back. I hated this. I hated that she was gone. I pulled out my phone to distract me.
Cade: gotta go.
Bale: talk tomorrow?
Cade: yeah
Andy: pining . . .
I tucked my phone back into my pocket and twisted to face Kenzie. “Thanks.”
“Cade, darling, there are more creative ways to thank me.”
A slow smile crept up my face and I winked. “I’ll message you, then.” I opened the car door, blowing a kiss to her as I stepped out. Turning around, I shut the door with my hip.
The passenger side window rolled down. “Send pics! You know what kind.” Blowing a kiss back, she pulled out of the driveaway. She was flying back to L.A. tonight. But I would hear from her before she boarded the plane. The videos of my fight with Bella were probably already going viral.
