Well, it caught him off guard. That's all it was. He was surprised to see her in the driveway, then her suitcase exploded, and she teased him like when they were kids and—
Yeah, it made perfect sense that his palms would get sweaty and his heart would race and his skin would get all tingly.
A completely reasonable reaction.
He turned the corner, heading for the Baxter house on the other side of town. Sam Baxter was one of his guitar students—teaching math didn't exactly have him rolling in dough, so he taught music on the side. Kade enjoyed sharing his love for music with kids who were a little more enthusiastic than his math students.
Why did everyone hate math so much? It was so cool!
Kade inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of Vi's perfume where it clung to his jacket. She smelled different than he remembered. Not that he spent a lot of time smelling her back in high school.
Not that he hadn't wanted to.
But back then, Vi was part of Vi-and-Liam, the golden couple of Holiday Junction High School. And Kade was Vi's best friend.
Which wasn't bad, don't get him wrong. Violet Chalmers was an awesome friend, and they'd been inseparable since, well, pretty much since birth. They'd grown up next to each other and their mothers had been close friends.
But somewhere around sophomore year, Kade had turned to look at Vi and she'd smiled and he—
Well, things had changed. He wasn't sure if he fell in love with Vi in that moment, or if he'd been in love with her all along, and just then realized it.
Not that it mattered.
Vi-and-Liam, remember?
Kade sighed and pulled into the Baxter's driveway. They were old friends of the family, but then again, having lived in HJ all his life, most people were friends of the family. He parked, pulled his guitar case out of the back seat, and walked up to the front door. It opened before he knocked and a young girl with long blonde hair gave him a rather imperious look before stalking past him toward the sidewalk.
Sam Baxter stood behind her, looking rather forlorn. “Hi, Mr. Rivera,” he said glumly. “Come on in.”
He followed the boy into the living room, waving at his mother, Lisa, in the kitchen before he shrugged off his coat.
“Everything okay, buddy?” he asked as he sat down on the couch and pulled out his guitar.
Sam shrugged, tuning his own instrument. “Girl trouble.”
Kade blinked. “Aren't you a little young for that?” he asked without thinking.
Sam's blue eyes narrowed. “I'm eleven.”
“Sorry.” He held up his hands, defensively. “You want to talk about it?”
He shrugged again. “She said she wanted to watch my lesson. But then Jamie Daughtry texted her and she decided she'd rather go hang out with him.”
“Ah.” Kade felt for him. The kid looked crushed. “That's too bad, man.”
“I just don't understand women,” Sam said, his guitar balanced precariously on his lap. “How are we supposed to know what they want?”
“Preaching to the choir,” Kade said sympathetically. “But if she can't see how awesome you are, it's her loss, you know?”
For some reason, Kade's thoughts drifted to Violet again. It was good to see her. Like old times. It would be nice to have her around without the specter of Kade's unrequited love hanging over their heads. They could be friends again, like they used to be.
That would be nice. Great. It would be great. Right?
“Mr. Rivera?”
He smiled. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, do you think if I learned to play really good—”
“Well—”
Sam didn't miss a beat. “—really well that I could be in a band? I mean, girls love rock stars, right?”
“You're not going to be in a band!” his mom yelled from the kitchen. “Not until you graduate!”
Sam rolled his eyes and Kade tried not to laugh, leaning in conspiratorially. “I've heard that, yes,” he whispered.
The boy grinned and picked up his guitar. “What's first? Dylan or the Beatles?”
Kade positioned his own guitar. “You pick.”
They strummed out Eleanor Rigby, and Kade put all thoughts of Violet Chalmers aside, for now.
The next evening, Kade stood at Vi's door, wondering if he should knock or ring the doorbell. Over the past few years, he hadn't bothered with either, at Lou's insistence. He'd just call out as he entered so she knew he was there.
But things were different now. And he felt weird simply barging in.
He felt weird about a lot of things, actually.
Like when Vi had showed up at his doorstep earlier in the day to invite him for dinner.
“Mom's making meatloaf,” she'd cajoled, as if he'd needed any cajoling. Lou's meatloaf was his favorite.
He played it cool, though. “I don't know,” he said, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “We had meatloaf last week.”
She looked affronted. “You've been eating my mom's meatloaf without me?”
“You weren't here!”
“That's no excuse!” She pointed at him, then jabbed the finger into his chest to accentuate her words. “You should have abstained in my memory.”
“From meatloaf,” he said flatly.
“Absolutely!” She poked him again. “For the sake of our friendship.”
“Stop poking me.” He grabbed her finger. “And what did you expect? For me to pine away over that meatloaf for years? I'm a man with needs, Vi.”
She snorted. “Typical.”
“And would you rather have some stranger enjoying your mom's meatloaf?” he asked, jiggling her finger. “At least you know I truly appreciate it.”
Vi laughed. “Well, are you going to appreciate it tonight or not?” she asked. “Because, if not, I can ask someone else—” She backed up a step.
“Don't you dare,” Kade replied, yanking her back by the finger. “I'll be there.”
And as she bumped up against him, he caught another whiff of her perfume—something vanilla-y and floral, maybe? Was that a thing? Vanilla flowers?
Anyway, he suddenly realized how close they were standing and dropped her finger like a hot potato, his face heating. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, what time's dinner?”
Vi gave him a funny look but didn't say anything about his strange behavior. “Six-ish? Come by anytime so we can catch up.”
She'd left then, saying she had to get some prep work done for class the next morning. And for some unknown reason, Kade had changed his shirt three times before heading next door at six.
He settled on knocking, and Vi opened the door a few moments later. “Hey. Come on in.” She eyed his neatly pressed shirt. “You look nice.”
Kade felt his face heat. “Thanks. So do you.” She was wearing leggings and a flowy floral top that draped off her shoulders.
“Oh, this old thing?” She grinned at him and took his coat.
He followed her into a kitchen he knew as well as his own. White cabinets with glass inserts showed off Lou's collection of brightly colored dishes. She'd put in new countertops a few summers ago—gray quartz—with a farmhouse sink and a butcher block island in the middle of the room.
Lou stood at the stove, stirring gravy and waved them toward the breakfast nook. “Set the table, would you?” she asked no one in particular.
Kade took up the task and retrieved plates while Vi grabbed the silverware. They worked in tandem like that had done the job so many times in the past, and once again Kade was struck by how easily they'd fallen back into their old relationship.
They’d been so close, back then. And when Vi had left, they’d both promised that nothing would change. It did, of course. They were kids, after all, and living different lives. The calls and emails became more infrequent until they trailed off altogether, and eventually they had moved on. Lou had filled him in on what Vi was up to, and he assumed she did the same for Vi, but other than that? Well, Kade had assumed their friendship was over. Th
at it had died a quiet death, starved by neglect.
Which made it all the more remarkable that as soon as they saw each other again, it was like no time had passed at all. They’d picked up right where they left off—teasing and joking and laughing together.
“You put the fork on the wrong side,” Vi said with a glint in her eye. This was a familiar debate.
“It’s on the right, Chalmers,” he said, “so how can it be wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows the fork goes on the left, you Philistine. It’s proper etiquette.”
“Etiquette, schmetiquette.” Kade waved a hand. “We’re all right-handed. Why should we reach all the way across the plate to grab our fork?” He demonstrated, overemphasizing the long stretch as he wiggled his fingers over the knife he placed on the left. “It’s more efficient this way.”
“Lazy, you mean.” Vi sniffed.
“Children!” Lou said sharply. “Sit down. It’s time to eat.”
Kade grinned at Vi, and she stuck her tongue out at him before smiling herself. He sat in his usual place, across from the window looking out over the back yard. The cherry tree was just showing hints of budding.
“You need to get that sprayed this year,” he said.
Lou brought over the bowl of mashed potatoes and sat down, flicking out her napkin before laying it across her lap. “I know. I've already set it up.”
He nodded. “You want me to prune it?”
She eyed the tree thoughtfully. “Maybe a little. Gotta do it before the buds break.”
“I can come by this week after school sometime when the weather's nice. I'll take care of that broken bit of fence, too.” He felt a little prickle on the back of his neck and turned to see Vi watching him. “What?” he asked.
She blushed, but only shook her head. “Nothing.” Vi handed him the platter of meatloaf.
He took a few slices and searched for something to say, suddenly feeling tension in the room. “So, are you all ready for Monday?” he finally asked.
Violet swallowed and took a sip of her water. “I think so. I'm a little nervous, though. It's weird to come in mid-year.”
“You'll be great,” Lou said, pouring gravy on her potatoes. “Those kids are lucky to have you. A real Broadway star!”
“Mom—” Vi looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I'm no star. I had a few small parts, is all. And it wasn't even Broadway. It was off-off-way off-Broadway.”
“Doesn't matter,” Lou said stubbornly. “You have real life experience.”
“That's one thing to call it,” she muttered.
“Don't sell yourself short,” Kade said, pointing at her with his fork. “You are extremely talented. Always have been.”
“Tell that to the casting directors.” She stabbed at her broccoli.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand. “I don't know a lot about the business, but I do know that it's tough. And that talent doesn't always equate success.”
“So what does failure equate?” she asked.
“You're not a failure.” Kade squeezed her hand before returning to his meal. “And stop feeling sorry for yourself. It's extremely unattractive.” He shot her a mischievous look and her lips twitched.
“You're extremely unattractive,” she grumped, but the mood had lifted, so Kade felt like he'd done his job.
“So, fill me in on the last decade,” Vi said later as they sat on the porch swing, sipping cocoa. She waggled her eyebrows at Kade, “Romance-wise.”
Dinner had been fun, just like she remembered, with Kade's sharp wit clashing with her own snarky comments, and Lou throwing up her hands in irritation at them both. It had been like old times, and Vi was equal parts amazed at how they still clicked, and saddened that she’d let them drift apart for so long.
Lou had eventually left them to their cocoa and headed to her craft room to work on some Valentine decorations for the shop. Lou took the competition between local business owners very seriously when it came to decorating. And Chalmers' Chapters, the local used bookstore that had been in her family for three generations, always had an impressive display. It had been tough when Vi's dad died fifteen years earlier of a heart attack, and Lou had almost sold the shop, unable to walk through the doors without seeing the ghost of Ed Chalmers. But in the end, practicality won over—she had a daughter to raise and bills to pay, after all—and in time, Lou had come to love running Chapters on her own.
Vi was glad. She couldn't imagine walking into the store and not seeing her mom behind the counter.
“Romance-wise?” Kade sipped his cocoa and rolled his eyes. “Not much to tell,” he said. “Few dates here and there—”
“Ooooohhh . . .” Vi said, teasing.
“No oooohhh about it,” he said. “Nothing serious. No one special.” He shrugged. “How about you?”
Vi's stomach twisted into knots. “Well, there was this guy . . .”
“Ben.”
“You know about Ben?”
“Lou told me.”
Of course. Perfect. “What exactly did she tell you?” Vi was going to kill her mother.
“Not much, really,” he replied. “Just that you were dating him. He's an actor, too. That's about it.”
The fact he wouldn't meet her eyes made her think it was a bit more than that.
“Ben was—” Vi sighed, trying to think of the right words. “—a mistake. I think. I don't know. It seemed so perfect. He was a lot of fun. Very spontaneous. Kind of sassy—like you a little bit, now that I think of it.”
He gave her a look of distaste. “I am not sassy,” he retorted. “Cats are sassy!”
She laughed. “Sarcastic, then. Snarky. Irreverent . . . whatever.” She swallowed some of her chocolate, which had gone lukewarm. “Anyway, long story short, I thought we had a lot in common. He said he loved me. We even talked about marriage, someday. But then about six months ago, he got a big part in a Broadway show and unceremoniously dumped me for his leading lady. And that was that.”
Vi hoped saying it like that—quick and unemotional—would hide how much it devastated her.
Apparently, it didn't, because Kade said, “I'm so sorry. What a jerk.”
“Yeah.” She gulped down the rest of her cocoa. “I got fired from my waitressing job for calling in sick for an audition—I didn't get the part, big surprise—and I couldn't make rent, so . . .” She felt so pathetic, but it was nice to finally tell someone all of it. Well, most of it, anyway. Only her mom knew it all, and Vi planned to keep it that way.
She sipped her cocoa. “I called Mom and told her I was coming for a visit. Then I found out about the job at the school and I figured, what the heck, right? I can work for a while, build up a nest egg, and I'll be able to try again in a year or so.” She looked out over the front yard to the shadowy street beyond. “Maybe L.A. this time. Who knows?”
“L.A.,” Kade said flatly. “Right.”
She looked at him. “What's wrong?”
He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated, snapping it shut before shaking his head. “I was just getting used to having your around again, you know?” he said finally. “And you're already talking about leaving.”
“Well, I'll be around for a while,” she said nudging his shoulder with her own. “The rest of this school year, and probably next year, too. You'll get sick of me.”
Kade's lips quirked before he took another drink of his cocoa. “Too late.”
She gaped at him and smacked him on the arm. “You are such a jerk!” Then she noticed a smear of whipped cream on the stubble above his lip. “You have a little something.” She motioned toward her own face.
He stuck out his tongue, swiping the left side of his mouth, then the right. “Did I get it?”
Vi wrinkled her nose. “No, it's right—” She pointed at his upper lip, right below his nose. His tongue darted out but was nowhere near long enough to reach it.
“Just . . . hold still,” she said, laughing, reaching out to wipe the smear off with
her thumb. Her fingers drifted across his cheek, and she was surprised to find his beard soft, instead of prickly. Her gaze locked with his for a moment, his brown eyes warm and teasing. Vi felt suddenly self-conscious and pulled away, wiping her thumb on her jeans as she swallowed nervously.
“Is it gone?” he asked quietly, his voice husky.
She didn't look at him. “Yeah, I got it.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the air heavy around them as the swing creaked rhythmically. She should probably head in and go to bed, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do so, and Kade gave no sign he was ready to leave.
“Have you seen anyone else since you've been back?” he asked after a while.
“Hmm?” Vi glanced at him. “Like who?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. Anyone from school? Liam, maybe?” He shot her a sideways glance.
“Liam?” She let out a huff of surprise. “I haven't thought of Liam in—Is he still in town?” she asked.
Kade looked away, out over the yard. “Sure. He's a lawyer now. Has his own practice.” His foot pushed the swing a little faster. “I'm surprised you didn't know.”
“Well, we haven't really kept in touch.” Her thoughts drifted to sandy hair, blue eyes, and moonlit nights out at the Point. “It would be nice to see him again,” she said. “If he's not still mad at me.”
Kade snorted. “It's been ten years. I think he's probably over you dumping him.”
“I didn't dump him,” Vi said, smacking his leg. “I broke up with him because we were going to college on different sides of the country and I didn't think we were ready for a long distance relationship.”
“Potato. Po-tah-toe,” Kade replied, handing her his mug. “I should go. We both have an early day tomorrow.”
“Ugh. Monday. Don't remind me,” Vi said, standing as he did. “I guess I'll see you at school?”
He glanced toward the driveway. “Do you need a lift?” he asked. “We don't have Uber around here, so . . .”
“Well, I was going to walk, but if you're offering, that would be great.”
Violet's Valentine: A Clean Friends to Lovers Romance (Love in Holiday Junction Book 1) Page 2