Shy Girl

by Katie Cross

  “They aren't g-going to eat m-me,” I muttered under my breath. “C-calm down.”

  “Maybe,” he drawled. “Maybe not.”

  When the two college students proved they wouldn't leap across the counter and endanger my life, Jayson backed away as I completed the orders. He sat at his usual table and watched me work. Once I finished, he beckoned me with a hand. I grabbed his favorite mug, already filled with black coffee just the way he liked it, and joined him. He pulled me into the bench next to him and linked our fingers together.

  We talked about his day. My day. The way fall was giving way to winter, and snow flurries were expected tonight. The conversation was punctuated by bursts of chilly air outside when new customers slipped in.

  “How's the last class going?” he asked as he finished off the last of his coffee.

  “B-beautifully. On t-track to graduate in D-december.”

  “We should have a party.”

  “Oh?”

  He fingered my left hand ring finger but said nothing. I stifled a smile. Hernandez liked to pretend he was so macho and quiet and secretive, but he sucked at it. He'd been eyeballing my ring size for weeks now.

  I had no doubt that a graduation party might also end up being an engagement party.

  Whenever it happened, the day that Jayson proposed to me was the day I would tell him about Anthony. Rage-fueled or not, I had made a promise to Anthony that I wouldn't betray. No one would know about my parentage. But neither would I keep a secret from my husband. So once Jayson tethered himself to me that way, I would tell him.

  And I know he wouldn't care.

  “Your Mom good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Got her new grinder in, so she's happy.”

  “Still trying to source bee pollen?”

  I tilted my head back and laughed. “She is. You wouldn't believe the weird conversations she's having with people.”

  He grinned. “I'll call her tonight about the shelves in the garage. Just about done putting them up, then she can store some of that stuff in there.”

  I smiled adoringly at him. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, the Idiots are getting together next month. Going to start a yearly retreat.”

  My ears perked up. Something had happened at the wedding to pull the Merry Idiots back together. Jayson didn't go into details, but I had a feeling he was responsible for it. Whatever it was.

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “We'll take turns being in charge. Vik is starting it off. He wants to do an arctic expedition with sled dogs.”

  I burst out laughing, then sobered when Jayson didn't follow suit.

  “Is h-he s-serious?”

  “D-dead serious.”

  “W-will you g-go?”

  “You bet I will.”

  With a sigh, I laughed. “Of course you will, and I can't wait to see the pictures.”

  Just as he stood up to leave, and I twined my arms around his neck while the shop lay quiet around us, the door banged open. Two bags made a thud as they dropped to the floor. I whirled around to see a woman with black hair standing there. She pulled aviator sunglasses off her face, set her hands on her hips, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath.

  “I'm back!” she cried, then spun to face me with a tilted smile.

  “Ellie?” Despite obvious joy on her face, I thought I saw a hint of exhaustion. I straightened up. “You’re b-back?”

  She grabbed her aviators and flung them onto the counter. Like she'd planned it, they slid to a stop just before the edge.

  “College is done. I'm out of that alcohol-ridden, controlling, exploitative rats nest.”

  “That good?” Jayson quipped.

  Her expression dropped into a dark scowl, highlighted by the light color of her eyes against her ebony hair. “No, I didn't even make it a full semester. It's not a safe place and not a good fit for me.”

  Jayson held up two hands. “I agree, my friend. I did community college and then joined the force.”

  Ellie relaxed slightly. Concern filled me as I studied her. Lines edged her face, which had thinned out since she left two-and-a-half months ago. My mind filtered to Devin Blaine, her best friend. He'd left last year and she hadn't seen him since. Their falling-out had been epic news around the town for a while. Although she tried hard not to be, Ellie was transparent as glass. She'd planned to go to the state university with Devin. Her attempt now had been a chance to prove she didn't need him.

  But she did.

  The two of them were fire and ice, but somehow they'd made it work. Devin was gentle, patient, and calm. Ellie was intense, fierce, and prone to isolating. She'd never been the same without him, and I couldn't help but wonder if she saw that.

  “I'm onto my next real adventure,” Ellie declared. “I tried college. They failed me. I'm out.” She cut her hands horizontally. “I am done.”

  “So what's your next adventure?” Jayson asked as he wrapped an arm around my waist. Ellie grinned with a fiercely feminine gleam in her eye.

  “I'm going to be an adventure guide.”

  Note From The Author

  Regarding the C-Tape—yes, it’s real.

  It actually was a VHS put together by a bunch of danger-loving teenage friends of my brother. He never participated in their antics, but he always talked about them. Of course, rumors of the C-Tape swirled through my life from several different people and places. It really was legendary in my Idaho town, and their stunts actually happened.

  These teenagers were not called the Merry Idiots, but probably should have been. Nor were they baseball players in a mountain town, and their names are not used here. They were a pretty tight knit group of boys that, to my knowledge, are still friends today.

  It’s unlikely that these boys (who somehow survived to become men) that created the C-tape will ever know about this book. It’s even more unlikely that they’d know me by my married name because I rarely interacted with them. In fact, I was more like Dagny and in awe of them as a whole.

  To the original C-Tape creators: if you do find this book and you recognize my name and some of your foibles as I glorified them in this book, then know that I dedicate this book to you and all your idiotic—but hysterical—ideas.

  You awed a little girl that listened from the sidelines.

  To everyone that helped make this possible, thank you so much. I appreciate all the beta and sensitivity readers that helped me create the best possible story for you, and on a tight timeline! My team, my readers, my family, and all the people that help me navigate my daily life so that I can get words on paper—you are so appreciated.

  Wild Child

  Thanks for reading SHY GIRL!

  * * *

  I hope you loved Dagny and Hernandez as much as I did—which is *quite* a lot. And if you're not ready to leave your friends or the town of Pineville yet, no worries. There is more to read.

  I always got your back!

  Read ahead for a sneak peek of WILD CHILD, Book 6 in the Coffee Shop Series. Ellie and Devin are in for a wild ride once he comes back to Pineville to visit.

  Because broken hearts DO mend, but not always evenly.

  Wild Child

  Prologue

  * * *

  The smell of alcohol stained the air.

  Grimacing, I hovered around the edges of a crowd of sweaty high school bodies clad in elaborate, strappy dresses and tuxedos. Hairspray and perfume thickened the air. A simple dress of deep blue rustled around my legs with no design except a layer of sheer, shimmery fabric over the top. The bodice was a little tight, but my chest felt tight anyway.

  Anyone would, wearing a dress.

  Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t been asked to this prom. My best friend was here with the sweetest, most popular girl in the school, and I hated crowds with an introvert’s fiery passion.

  Still, I pressed on.

  The high school gym hadn’t truly transformed despite the sparkle lights, food table, and crepe banners clogging the air. You can’t hide r
un-down with cheap decorations, not even for the last dance of the year.

  The sudden absence of pulsing music left shuffles and whispers in the air. The principal, Mrs. Comstock, tapped across a stage on the far side of the gym. She wore a pair of bright pink high heels and a pencil skirt of sheer black. Teenage couples pulled apart, turning their attention to a spotlight that illuminated her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a bun, as she stopped at a microphone in the middle of the stage. She held an envelope in her left hand.

  “Boys and girls,” she said, voice fuzzy from the speakers. “Hope you’re having a good time, and thank you for behaving yourself. The time has come to announce the King and Queen of this year’s prom.”

  A round of applause and whoops rippled through the room, followed by a drumroll from the DJ, who worked in the corner. My stomach clenched. As if any of them needed Mrs. Comstock to tell them who would be King and Queen. I crossed my arm in front of me, tucking my icy fingers away. At least I wasn’t late.

  Where was the perfect couple, anyway?

  My heart thumped as a familiar set of broad shoulders came into view on the other side of the room, near a punch guarded by the towering football coach Mr. Bell. He glowered behind the bowl in a challenge to anyone who tried to get past him with alcohol. Not far from him, my best friend Devin had his hand around a girl named Cassidy’s. He tugged her closer to the middle of the room, where a few of his football buddies had congregated. When Devin leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she grinned broadly, I clenched my fingers together and resisted the urge to dart away.

  This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come. Didn’t matter that it was Devin’s senior prom, that he’d surely take the crown with Cassidy, or that it was our only opportunity to have a dance together before we exited the teenage world and stepped into the adult one.

  I shouldn’t have come.

  But something—maybe innate loyalty or a deep desperation—kept me glued to the spot as Mrs. Comstock ruffled through the envelope to pull out a piece of paper. As if everybody didn’t already know the two names there. Soft music started in the background, a royal accoutrement with dramatic violins. Two of Devin’s friends nudged him from behind. A good-natured roll of his eyes followed.

  I wanted to vomit.

  Mrs. Comstock leaned closer to the microphone, gazed out on the crowd, and grinned. The spotlight washed out her tanned face as she waited to delay the suspense. Somewhere in the crowd, a girl tittered. Another called out, “Just say it already!”

  My heart hiccuped as she paused for another seemingly endless minute before crying, “Devin Blaine and Cassidy Tanner!”

  Music crashed through the speakers, drowning out the shouts and cries of almost everyone in the room. Devin, with a heart-stopping smile, held a bent elbow out for Cassidy. A hand covered her mouth. Her eyes—so perfectly warm and kind and compassionate that I wanted to hate her but couldn’t—sparkled with shock.

  Really? I wanted to say. You’re surprised?

  The perfect couple ascended the stairs on the side of the stage together, toward the awaiting student body president and vice president who held their crowns. Cassidy’s tiara sparkled obnoxiously as they set it on top of her head. She looked beautiful, with her dark skin and bright eyes offset by an aquamarine dress. She waved at her adoring public that had gone wild the moment the crown hit her head.

  But it was Devin that took my breath away.

  The tuxedo cut angular lines across his thick shoulders, and his hair had an adorably tousled look. Star quarterback had served him well—he looked like a king up there with his bowtie, wide smile, and a genuine affability that boggled me.

  I leaned back against the wall, crushing my skirt in my hands. My heart banged so loud in my ears I couldn’t hear the congratulatory screams anymore. Just the race of my blood through my body. There was only half an hour left of the dance, plenty of time to find him in the crowd later and fulfill the promise of our dance. Cassidy would let me—she was good and kind that way. She wouldn’t think that the tag-along best friend who was only a junior would be in her way.

  Because I felt like she was in my way.

  An ugly truth had occurred to me as I’d watched him get dressed for the dance. The moment I comprehended the pit in my stomach at the thought of him with another girl. Seeing him on the stage, as far from me as he’d ever been, slammed the truth into me all at once.

  I freaking loved my best friend.

  Now, watching them dance and whirl together, the truth was confirmed. Devin had always been more than a friend to me. He was my soul. He was all. Tears pricked my eyes with heat and I forced them back with one last shot at my crumbling denial. No. I couldn’t love Devin. Not like that, anyway.

  Devin was my best friend, not my lover. He was the other part of me. The second side of my heart that beat in tandem with mine. The last seven years living in Pineville, away from the stepfather that wanted to kill me, had been bearable because of Devin. Amazing because of Devin.

  Safe because of Devin.

  “Dammit,” I muttered as the weak strands of my denial began to fade. Why did I even try? There was no denying the truth.

  I did love him.

  And how could that ever work? It couldn’t. Because love was fickle and men left. Even the ones you loved. Mama had made that lesson very clear.

  You fall in love, she told me, and men leave. It’s the way of things for girls like us. Besides, baby, you’re the kind of girl that will always take care of yourself. You deserve the truth from your Mama, because I’ll tell it to you straight: Stay away from them.

  Never mind that Mama had had some weird views on life, and had led my older sisters down terrible paths with her advice. While Mama whispered sweet tales of romantic passion to Lizbeth, she told me the cold hard facts of life and love. Men leave. Love fades. Take care of yourself first.

  Jim, my abusive stepfather, made it very clear that I wasn’t good enough for him. And my real father had left me to die with Jim. While I had glowing examples of worthy men—my pseudo-father Maverick, my brother-in-law JJ, and of course Devin—the truth always rang in my ears like a high-pitched reminder.

  Men leave.

  Love dies.

  You take care of yourself.

  So, no. If I loved Devin and lost him too, I’d lose myself. Was it worth the risk? Well . . . maybe. Because wasn’t Devin already inextricably tied up in me?

  Besides, I thought as I watched him and Cassidy twirl around the stage to an especially pungent romance song, Devin deserves the princess, and I am the sword maiden.

  Dev and I were too alike.

  It would never work.

  That felt easier. Brutal, cold hard reality. Not the dreams of me being the girl in his arms. Me in the tiara. Me in the dress—and actually enjoying it, which would never happen. No, this was reality, and reality was far safer than dreams.

  With all my strength, I swallowed back my emotion. Pushed back the truth that had dangled at the edge of my mind for years now. Even though I’d only just acknowledged my feelings for him today, I tucked them in a tiny box and set it in the corner of my mind to ignore. There they would pulse like a little heart, reminding me that they knew the truth, even as I strove to live a lie.

  The crowd surged into the dance as Dev escorted Cassidy off the stage. Suddenly, my tendency to keep to myself and ignore almost everyone but Devin swamped me. There was no one else here I knew aside from a few acquaintances who waved in the halls. No reason to stay. Stay and dance and tell Devin how I really felt?

  No thanks.

  Locked away now.

  A tap on my shoulder distracted me. My shoulders bunched as I whirled around, then they relaxed. My only other friend, Jax, stood there with a wry smile.

  “Ellie?”

  “Hey.” He tilted his head to Devin. “How you doing?”

  My tension faded. No punch in Jax’s hand. No alcohol on his breath. Instead, I swallowed and said, “Great. Just wanted to see i
t happen.”

  “You knew they’d get it?”

  “Who didn’t?”

  He grinned. “They look great together, don’t they? The two nicest people in the school deserve the crown.” His eyebrows rose. “Don’t you think?”

  “Yep.”

  “You all right?”

  I tilted my head to crack my neck. The room felt like a warm swamp filled with cheap perfume and alcohol. Mr. Bell abandoned the punch bowl to escort a kid out of the room by his shoulders. Two other kids slipped up, emptying a new bottle of what appeared to be rum inside the punch with a snicker. Idiots.

  “I’m good.”

  He nodded knowingly, as if I’d said something wise, but I caught the hint of sarcasm in his face. “Sure. You’re good. You just got here?”

  “Yep. I’m on my way out now.”

  Wrinkles appeared in his brow. “Why? Don’t you want to dance with D–”

  “Nope.”

  “Ellie—”

  “You look handsome tonight, Jax.” I patted his lapel, where a red rose graced the pocket, “I need to go.”

  His gaze darted behind me, then his lips twitched. I sensed someone approaching as Jax stepped back a little.

  “Good luck with that,” he sang. A second later, a hand grabbed mine. I whirled around, coming face-to-face with a grinning Devin.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  My heart stalled like a dying star. I sucked in a breath to get it going again, arrested by the overwhelming presence of Devin, my best friend. The guy that was usually sweaty, smelly, and fell asleep with his body half on top of mine most Friday nights while we watched zombie movies. The guy that made a mean grilled cheese sandwich and never had a sip of alcohol just for my sake.

  The little box in the corner of my brain exploded open.

  Somehow, I managed a smile. “Hey.”

  As easily as breathing, he tugged me closer, put his hand on my waist, and whisked me onto the dance floor. I caught a quick glimpse of Jax over Devin’s shoulder as I whirled away. Concern waited there. Before I could figure it out, Devin spoke.