I tossed a Hacky Sack at my ceiling, caught it, then tossed it back up. “Not interested.”
She was still in the hallway; I could sense her presence.
“Go away, Mom.”
“Just read it, Slade. Give her another chance. She never wanted the deal. Mrs. Gonzales and I practically forced her into it.”
I snorted. “Nobody forces her to do anything.”
Mom wrenched open the door and stalked into my room, hands on her hips. “Slade Edmunds, I know you’re angry at me, and you have every right to be. But don’t tell me you don’t still care about Trina. I don’t believe it.”
“Oh, I care. The same way I care about serial killers.”
She bent over to retrieve the envelope, threw it at me, and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
The envelope landed on my chest. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, pressing down on my already broken heart.
I picked it up and looked at her familiar writing. Something inside me softened a tiny bit, but I reminded myself for the millionth time how she’d betrayed me. Deceived me. Stolen my heart then crushed it into a thousand pieces. I shredded the envelope and threw it in my trash can.
That was the final communication I’d ever have with Trina.
Chapter Forty-Six
Slade
Monday, July 22
“Way to go, asshole.” Alex threw a basketball at me, hitting me square on the chest. I flung it back at him, but he dodged it. It was late and we were in the basement gym of the club. The pool had closed and hardly anyone was around.
He stalked toward me. “You really aren’t going to talk to Trina? Not even give her a chance to tell you whatever it is Desi says she needs to tell you?”
“Desi’s full of it,” I said, grabbing another basketball and hurling it at Alex. He batted it away and closed the gap between us. “She’s just sticking up for her best friend. Why’d you even bother talking to her?”
“Don’t talk that way about Desi.” He glared at me. “What the hell is wrong with you? If Trina’s driving you this crazy, don’t you think maybe you should talk to her?”
“She is not driving me crazy. I’m done with her.” Even as I said the words, they cut me deep inside, pissing me off. I’d been doing my best to numb all my feelings since Mom had told me about her bullshit deal.
I hated how I couldn’t stop thinking about Trina. I wanted her out of my mind, and out of my heart.
Alex shoved me, bringing me back to the present. “Really? This is you, done with Trina? Great.” He snorted. “I can hardly wait to see you when you’re done with the next girl you fall in—”
I shoved him back. “There’s not going to be a ‘next girl.’”
His lip curled in a sneer. “Good. Since you totally suck at being a decent boyfriend.”
I didn’t realize I had him in a headlock until he’d wiggled out of it and flipped me to the ground. We rolled around on the floor, clawing and tearing at each other, grunting like wild animals. All the anger and frustration of the past two weeks boiled up and out of me. My anger with Alex for telling Trina about the bet. My anger at Trina and my mom.
For every punch and kick I threw, Alex gave it right back to me. We reeked of sweat and whatever rage smelled like. But we didn’t stop. We called each other the worst names we could think of, and the names we thought of were pretty foul.
After what seemed like hours, Alex finally rolled away from me, panting and exhausted.
“Okay,” He lay on his back, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. “Now we can have a conversation.”
“Fuck you,” I gasped, kneeling on the ground with my head between my arms.
He dug into in his backpack then threw something that bounced off my head.
I picked it up, staring in shock. “What the hell? Is this your cup? You threw your fucking jockstrap at me?”
His laughter echoed off the walls, and I let myself join him, as the knot in my stomach finally loosened.
“I’m starving,” he said.
“You’re buying, asshole.”
“Deal.”
After we showered and ate enormous burritos at Chipotle, Alex and I stood in the parking lot saying good-bye. He had spent our whole meal trying to convince me to forgive Trina, or at least listen to her.
“Give her five minutes,” he said as he unlocked his car.
“That’s five more minutes than she deserves.”
He glared at me. “Where are you going now? A party? A midnight hookup?”
I shrugged. “Home.” A stack of chick flicks and a tub of ice cream waited for me.
He smirked. “You’re going to OD on lame-ass movies, aren’t you?” Alex said. “You’re totally still in love with her.”
“Piss off.”
He laughed, flipping me off as rolled down his window. “Five minutes!” he yelled as he drove off to meet Tim.
At least somebody’s love life wasn’t a train wreck.
At home, I opened the dresser drawer where I’d shoved Trina’s torn-up letter after rescuing it from the trash can. It was next to the necklace I’d bought her, the one I’d planned to give her the night of the Red Rocks concert before everything fell apart.
I’d never read the letter, and I couldn’t return the necklace since it was engraved. But I was keeping both items as a warning, something to stop me the next time I was stupid enough to think I was in love.
Five minutes? I wouldn’t give her five seconds.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Trina
Sunday, July 28
I’d spent the past week doing lots of soul-searching, when I wasn’t dealing with two kids who missed Slade almost as much as I did. I rode my bike aimlessly, listening to music, but I had to be careful which music, since so much of it reminded me of Slade. I practiced swimming at the rec center, always first making sure his car wasn’t in the parking lot.
I spent time at the shelter with Sharon, who was full of sad smiles and reassurances that even though my heart was broken, some day it would be whole again. I didn’t believe her.
Even though we were over, I still wanted the chance to apologize to him. To let him know how wrong I’d been to take the secret deal, and how sorry I was. I knew I couldn’t undo my mistakes, but I wanted to tell him one last time that none of my time with him had been a charade like he’d accused.
But he wouldn’t give me the time of day, even though Alex had argued with him and Desi had blown up his phone with texts and calls.
So that’s why I was sitting on his front porch, waiting. His parents were gone; I’d texted his mom to make sure of that before I came over. The fading warmth of the setting sun on my skin comforted me as I tried to convince myself this wasn’t an insane idea.
Alex texted me that they were at the pool, which closed at eight, so Slade should be home soon. I was grateful that Alex was my ally. He’d explained to me about the bet, that it had never been about an actual hookup. And I believed him.
I leaned back in the wicker chair and closed my eyes, clutching the envelope. It was a last-ditch effort to let Slade know how I felt. At least after I gave it to him I could walk away knowing I’d said my piece.
The roar of his car in the driveway startled me. My eyes flew open and locked with his as he turned off the engine, staring at me. We stayed like that for a long moment, then he flung open the door and stepped out. He stood there in all his sun god summer glory, but his expression was guarded and cold, more like the god of winter.
“What are you doing here?” He slammed the car door and stalked toward me, making my pulse beat out a panicked rhythm.
I stood up, ready to make my getaway. “Here.” I thrust the envelope toward him.
He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not reading any letters from you, Trina.” He raised stormy eyes to mine. “I threw away the other one. Never read it.”
My heart shrunk in on itself, and I wondered if I’d come on a fool�
��s errand after all. I bit my lip and took a breath. “This isn’t a letter. It’s for your binder.”
His eyes narrowed. “I threw that stupid thing away, too.”
Think, Trina. What’s your Plan B?
The Plan B genius stood in front of me, looking like he’d like to throw me in the trash, too.
“I know you hate me, Slade. And I don’t blame you, but I just…just wanted you to know how much…” But I lost my nerve, and my voice.
“How much I what, Trina? How much I screwed up as a nanny? Is that what’s in the envelope—your final report for my mom?”
His words cut me like shards of glass, lancing my already broken heart beyond what I could bear. “No,” I whispered, backing away from him. “No, that’s not…”
I dropped the envelope onto the wicker porch chair, and then turned away and stumbled down the steps, tears blurring my vision as I ran down the driveway to my car. I drove to a park, where I sat in my car and cried until there were no more tears left, because I’d shed them all for Slade.
Trina’s Nanny Binder – ADDENDUM
Tips from a Super Nanny (with a few cautions from the Slacker Nanny*)
1. Go with the flow.
2. Never let them see you sweat.
3. Rules are made to be broken (as long as no one gets hurt*).
4. Live dangerously (within reason*).
5. Laughter makes the tears stop.
6. Ice cream fixes everything.
7. When all else fails: baseball games and show tunes.
Tips from a Slacker Nanny
1. You don’t know everything, even if you think you do.
2. Even when you’re sure you can’t do something, you probably can, with a little magic. And a lot of help from your partner.
3. Spontaneity isn’t bad. It might even be epic.
4. Trust your partner. And never, ever lie to him.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Trina
Sunday, July 28th
The pounding on the door was loud enough to wake everyone in our building. I was glad Mom was at work instead of trying to sleep.
“Open up.” Slade’s voice was muffled through the door. “Or I’ll just keep pounding until the cops come.”
Oh my God. Was he here to yell at me some more? I’d been home for over an hour, nursing my wounded pride. Cautiously, I cracked the door. He stuck a leg through the opening and barged in, holding a plastic bag.
“I brought ice cream,” he said. “And movies with show tunes.”
I stared at him, speechless. He closed the door and smirked at me. “Super Nanny tips six and seven.” He walked into the kitchen. My body followed him while my brain tried to figure out what was happening.
“No baseball game today, so we’ll have to skip that one.” He opened the cupboard and grabbed two bowls. He glanced over his shoulder. “Is your mom home?”
I shook my head and watched a sly, sexy smile spread across his face.
“This is the first time we’ve been alone in your apartment, without your mom.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Trust me, BB?”
Trust him? I swallowed and nodded.
“Good.” He dug the ice cream scooper out of a drawer and filled two bowls, then handed me one. “Cop a squat, BB. We need to talk.”
He plopped in the overstuffed chair; I sank slowly onto the couch. He took a bite of ice cream, watching me while he ate.
“What are you…doing here?” I finally managed.
His spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “I already told you. Ice cream. Movies with show tunes.” He set his bowl on the coffee table. “Obviously I read your binder addendum.” His lips twitched. “And your letter. About a hundred times.” He waited, but I didn’t respond because my pulse was pounding in my ears, drowning out his words. “BB? Did you hear what I said?”
He pulled his wallet from his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. I recognized my geeky stationery. Looking closer, I saw that the page was covered with clear tape.
“You tore it up? I thought you said you threw it away.”
“Technically, I did both.” He pinned with me the deadly topaz gaze. “You’re lucky I didn’t flush it down the toilet.”
A tiny laugh escaped my dry throat.
“Did you flush my letter down the toilet?”
I shook my head, keenly aware that his stare wasn’t cold like it had been at his house; instead it was full of warmth, sparking a tiny flame of hope inside me.
“Burn it?” A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes, taking my breath away. I shook my head again.
“Give it to the kids to shred?”
Unexpected laughter bubbled out of me. “No.”
“Good.” His lips curved into the sexy grin I thought I’d never see again. “Go get it.”
My body tensed. “What?”
“Go get my letter. And a pen. Please.”
He watched me as I left the room, eating his ice cream, spoon clinking against the bowl. I returned to the living room, his letter clutched in my clammy hand. He’d moved from the chair to the couch. I hesitated, but he patted the cushion next to him. I sat beside him, but was careful not to make skin contact.
“How’s it been flying solo with the kids?”
I hadn’t expected that question. For a brief moment, I considered lying and telling him that everything was fabulous. That the kids loved worksheets now. And documentaries.
But I was done with lies, especially to him. Even if we weren’t together anymore, the least I could do was be honest with him.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Awful. The kids are bored. I’m out of ideas.” I swallowed. “They miss you. A lot.” I took a deep breath and said, “So do I.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Slade. That’s what I wanted to tell you—that I was an idiot for ever taking that deal from your mom. You never needed mentoring.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “But I did.”
His eyes locked on mine as I spoke, then his lips curved slightly, and he spoke in a sexy British accent. “‘I don’t think you’re an idiot. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you…but what I’m trying to say…is that…despite appearances, I like you. Very much. Just as you are.’”
I stared at him, open-mouthed. “Did you just… Was that Mark Darcy from Bridget Jones’ Diary?”
He shrugged, grinning, and his eyes drifted to my mouth.
“Yeah, totally Mark Darcy,” he said. “My accent sucks, but…” He moved quickly, his fingers lifting my chin, forcing me to face him.
“I’m such an asshole,” he said softly. Then he moved his hand, settling it on the nape of my neck, making me shiver.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I breathed, as he traced down to my collarbone.
“I would. So would Alex. And Desi. I’m sorry, Trina, for not listening to you. For making that stupid bet with Alex.” His eyebrows knotted in anxiety. “You know I never meant it seriously, right? I didn’t even keep the stupid money.”
We breathed together, deeply and slowly, and I wondered if his heart thundered as much as mine.
“Will you forgive me?” he asked. “For being such a dick?”
“Which time?” His lips quirked. “Of course I do. Do you forgive me? For keeping secrets from you? For being dumb enough to say I’d mentor you in the first place?”
“Yes. But you have to make me a promise.”
“What?” My voice trembled.
“No more secrets.”
“I promise.”
“But I have a secret you need to know,” he said. “It’s the last one. Promise.”
He shifted away from me, leaning over the coffee table to write. His pen moved quickly across the letter I’d kept under my pillow all this time.
He handed me the paper. He’d added three words to the bottom of the page. Three amazing words. The ember of hope inside of me roared to life, fueled by those words.
I raised my eyes to his. “I love you, too.”
He pulled me into his arms, and his
lips grazed mine. “Still feel like living dangerously, BB?”
After a long, long time, we came up for air.
“I’m glad we’re clear on who’s the slacker and who’s the superstar,” I said, breathless.
“I don’t think either of us is a slacker when it comes to kissing,” he said. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny. “But I have something for Bird Brain, too.”
He clasped a chain around my neck and I looked down to see a two delicate gold lovebirds balanced on a branch. I lifted it for a closer look and saw two leaves dangling from the branch, one engraved with a T and one with an S.
“It was inspired by Gilly,” he said. “Trina and Slade, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” He ducked his head, smiling shyly. “I, um, meant to give it to you a while ago.”
“Those chick flicks taught you well.” I giggled, right before he kissed me again.
He laughed against my mouth. “I know, right?”
“One last thing,” I gasped between kisses. “You have to come back to work. I can’t handle those two by myself.”
“Already handled, BB. We’re all going zip-lining tomorrow.”
I broke the kiss, leaning back to look at him. “For real?”
His grin was devilish, daring. “Super Nanny tip number four: live dangerously. Bring your lavender oil, BB. We’re going to need it.” His arms tightened around me, and his eyes filled with laughter…and love.
“You’re not the boss of—” But my words were swallowed by his kiss. As I fell headfirst under the Slade spell again, I reminded myself of Slacker Nanny tip number three:
Spontaneity isn’t bad. It might even be…epic.
Epilogue
Slade
“One more lap, BB. No dinner ’til you finish.”
Trina glares at me, but she turns and pushes off the side of the pool. She starts in the shallow end and makes it all the way to the deep end, working her arms and breathing in a halfway decent rhythm. I swim alongside her, telling her when to breathe. She sputters out at the very end, grabbing the wall and coughing up water.
“Not bad,” I tell her.
Playing the Player Page 22
