by Kelsie Rae
“Artie?”
“Principal Wells,” I clarify. “He doesn’t like it when we call him by his first name. He insists it’s unprofessional.”
“Touché,” Owen smirks. “Do you wanna just dive right in or wait a few minutes to see if anyone else shows up? Just in case? I saw Skye’s name on the list––”
“She’s taking care of Sway’s cat,” I inform him, bristling at her obvious cop-out. I thought she was still on the man-hating bandwagon with me. But apparently, she’s returned to the dark side, though I have no idea why.
Little shit.
“Ah, Sway’s cat. Right. Is Toby still alive?”
My mouth curves up toward the ceiling before I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. “Yeah, good ol’ Toby is still alive, but apparently, this is one of her other cats that needs some extra lovin’.”
“Other cats?”
“She owns a cat sanctuary and fosters unwanted cats,” I explain while fiddling with my dark blue pen like it’s a toy.
“Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s great, Say––Miss Swenson,” he corrects himself as a light pink reaches his stubbled cheeks.
How did he get even more attractive over the years? While I’ve been fighting eye wrinkles and a belly pooch, he’s been rocking the weight room and the beach, if his natural tan is anything to go by.
Bastard.
But it’s the blush that does me in. The hint of vulnerability and respect that makes a few of the bricks I’ve built around my heart sway back and forth a little harder with every moment we spend in the same room together. But I’m too weak to stop it.
My gaze flicks up toward the ceiling before returning to the adonis in front of me. “You can call me Say.”
His eyes widen. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I jumped down your throat about it the first day. My behavior was completely uncalled for.”
“You have every right to still be pissed at me,” he rasps, shaking his head back and forth as if I’m not the only one lost in the memories of our pasts. “But I appreciate it. It feels weird to call you Miss Swenson. I feel like I’m talking to your mom or something.”
I laugh. “It sounds weird for me, too, when you say it, so I get that.”
“So, how’s she doing?”
“My mom? Uh, she’s good. She and my dad are just doing their thing like always, ya know?”
He nods. “That’s good. Skye already gave me the rundown of her life earlier this week, so I think I’m caught up on that front. And apparently, Sway owns a cat sanctuary, which is…exciting?”
I laugh. “Definitely exciting. There’s never a dull moment on that front.”
“And what about…everything else?” he prods, his thoughtfulness hitting me square in the chest.
“You mean with the whole infertility thing?” The memories from our conversation about our pasts, our regrets, and his little miracle filter through the back of my mind.
“Yeah,” he returns, his voice somber. He was there the day we found out she’d never be able to carry any of her own children. I’d bawled my eyes out, feeling guilty for having a good uterus when my little sister had to have hers removed. It wasn’t fair. He’d held me the entire time, rubbing his hand along my back while making promises he had no intention of keeping.
I clear my throat. “Shall we dive right in?”
“Sure thing.”
I spend the next couple of hours going over my ideas for the party. He chimes in every few minutes, offering an idea or a solution to a roadblock I’d found before helping me iron out all the details in record time.
With a sigh of exhaustion, I set my pen on the notepad and close it. “I think that’s it.”
“That’s everything?” he asks.
“Yeah. I think we’ve covered all of our bases.” Checking the time on the wall, my jaw drops, and I add, “Crap. I didn’t realize how late it’s getting. I’m sorry if I kept you too long from Grady.”
“No worries. He’s at a playdate with Turner and will be pissed when I pick him up, no matter how long I let them hang out tonight.”
“Really?” I stand up from my chair and grab my purse before rounding my desk.
Owen joins me on his feet, and we walk toward the exit as he explains. “Yeah. Mandy was generous enough to let them hang out at her house.”
“Mandy’s a great person,” I reply before flicking off the lights to my classroom, then closing the door behind us.
“Yeah, she seems nice.”
The halls are blanketed in an orange glow from the sunset outside as I search in my purse for the keys to the school Principal Wells had dropped off earlier today. When we reach the exit, I lock up and give Owen a tight smile.
“Thanks for helping today. I didn’t think we’d get that much taken care of. Especially since it was just the two of us.”
“Don’t mention it. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten dinner yet?”
I squeeze the strap of my giant purse a little tighter. “Uh, no. I guess I haven’t.”
“Do you want to grab some dinner together?”
My gaze drops to the ground, zeroing in on a pebble that skids across the black pavement as we make our way toward our cars.
Dinner. With Owen. My Owen. My heart pounds a little faster at the prospect.
“I, uh, I’m not sure that’d be a good idea,” I answer when I finally find my voice.
“Because you’re dating someone?”
“Because I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I repeat, pushing the unlock button on my fob.
I gotta get out of here.
“So, you’re not dating anyone?”
“Owen….”
“Are you?”
I tug my purse a little higher onto my shoulder, then fold my arms. “No. I’m not dating anyone.”
With a nod, he guides me to the driver’s side door of my car, making the hinges squeak softly as he pulls it open for me like a gentleman.
“I had fun today,” he tells me.
“Me too.”
“I’ve missed hanging out with you.”
Licking my lips, I peek up at him but stay quiet, though my heart is screaming, me too, right back at him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Say,” he rumbles, the promise settling in all the right places.
I bite the inside of my cheek before replying, “That’s good. I’d hate for Principal Wells to have to find a replacement, and Grady’s a good kid. I’d miss him as a student in my class.”
“Is that the only thing you’d miss?”
My breath hitches as he carefully weaves his fingers under my purse and sets it in the passenger seat of my car. Just like he used to when we were in high school, when I’d complain that the teachers expected us to carry way too many textbooks.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I learned to live without you a long time ago.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I never learned how to live without you.” His tone is laced with a regret that makes my knees weak.
“I’m sure you got along just fine,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it falls short.
“You have no idea.” He shakes his head before lifting it toward the sky that’s still painted in orange and purple, casting a comforting warmth on the shitty circumstances. With a deep breath, he drops his chin to his chest, then holds my gaze hostage as he murmurs the words that I’ve been desperate to hear since the moment he walked out of my life.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Say.”
I bite my lip and swallow back the golf ball-sized lump in my throat. “It’s––”
“Don’t say it’s okay,” he murmurs, his face contorting in pain.
I hate that I don’t want to see him hurting even after all the shit he put me through. That I’d rather comfort him instead of letting him feel an ounce of the agony I’ve had to live with since the moment he walked out of my life.
But his pain has always been mine, and I can’t bear
to sit back and let him carry the burden of guilt any longer. Not when I know how awful it feels. He’s not the only one with regret. I should’ve fought harder for him. I should’ve gotten on a plane and begged him to give us another chance. To give me another chance.
My smile is tight as I set my hand against his forearm that’s still resting against my open driver’s side door. “It’s not okay, Owen. But it’s life. Live and learn, right?”
“I was young and stupid––”
“We both were.”
“No. This is on me.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Owen,” I lie.
“Bullshit, I don’t,” he growls, his warm breath kissing my cheeks. We’re close. Too close. But I can’t find the willpower to put some much-needed distance between us. I’ve always been weak around him. I guess not much has changed in that regard.
“I owe you a hell of a lot more than an explanation,” he rasps. “I owe you the life we’d been planning to build together before I threw it all away because I thought I wasn’t good enough. I was young and stupid––”
“We’ve already covered that part,” I quip, my voice nothing but a breath of anguish.
“Let me take you out to dinner. Please?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t.”
His attention drops down to my mouth the same way it used to, making my toes curl with anticipation before remembering that he’s not mine to kiss. Not anymore. I gulp and pull away from him, desperate for air the same way I’ve always been desperate for him. My own self-preservation battles with my need to keep him close, to taste him again after all these years.
But I can’t.
“Thanks again for today,” I whisper. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pushes himself away from the door and watches as I fold myself into the driver’s seat. “I’m not going anywhere, Say. I’m going to earn your trust again.”
“Bye, Owen.”
“See you tomorrow, Say.”
The door closes with a reverberating thud that shakes my bones. Praying he can’t see the way my hands are trembling, I slide the key into the ignition, then turn it until the engine rumbles to life. I can feel him watching me through the window, but I refuse to meet his gaze as I pull away.
If I do, I’ll crumble. I’ll give in. I’ll beg him to take me to dinner. To take me back. To make me feel better. To call me his own. He’s broken me enough times without sticking around to put me back together again.
Who’s to say this time would be any different?
11
Owen
“You failed. You know that, right?” Skye informs me the next morning with crossed arms and a disappointed glare that could make even the most stubborn teenager cower with regret.
“I didn’t fail––”
“She came home alone, which means you failed.”
“This isn’t about sex for me––”
“You weren’t called The Big O for nothing, Owen.”
With a dry laugh, I rub my hand over my face before practically collapsing my weight against the same cabinet Skye’s leaning against in the break room.
“Not sure if sex could fix this.”
“You won’t know until you give it a try.” She winks.
“I’ll keep that in mind. What did she say when she came home last night?”
“That it was just you and her. And she’d forgotten how well you two work together. How easy it feels whenever you’re around.”
“Anything else?”
“That you apologized and asked her out.”
“And?”
“And she turned you down because she’s terrified of getting hurt again.” She pushes herself away from the cabinet but manages to maintain the same badass, don’t mess with me finesse with her head cocked to one side. “Here’s the deal. I think you were smart to apologize and to kind of lay it all out there. But she didn’t fall in love with serious, no-holds-barred Owen. She fell in love with cocky, carefree Owen. The one who doesn’t live with regret. The one who’s charismatic and makes a girl feel special but not overwhelmed. Does that make sense?”
“So, you’re saying that since I’ve made my intentions clear and have already apologized, now, I just need to be patient and bring on the charm?”
“Charm, orgasms, and yummy food. It’s what makes the world go ‘round, my friend.”
“That, and anything nerdy for our girl,” I clarify.
Her smile widens. “Exactly. Wake her back up, Owen. Make her feel something, even if it takes years to do it.”
A wave of determination spreads through me before I give her a nod. “I can do that.”
“I sure as hell hope so, or that means I’ve placed my money on the wrong horse, and I’ve already done that once before. Don’t prove me wrong, Owen.”
“I won’t.”
“Good man.” Her hand slaps against my shoulder as if she’s one of the boys before she grabs a powdered donut from a white cardboard box that someone had brought in this morning. After a quick bite, her powdered sugar covered lips pull into another smirk. “I gotta get back to work. And so do you, might I add. See ya around.”
“Bye,” I mutter, resting my head against one of the cabinets behind me. There’s just one problem. Cocky, charismatic Owen died the moment he let the girl of his dreams slip out of his grasp. Now, he’s surly…and desperate.
How the hell am I supposed to wake him up too?
“Hey, Dad?” Grady asks as we walk toward our car after school. A familiar silhouette in a swishy skirt and brown leather jacket weaves through the parking lot a few yards in front of us, ignoring me.
“Dad?” Grady tries again.
I shake my head and focus on the only person more important than Say.
“Sorry, bud. Yeah? What’s your question?”
“Can Turner come to our house tomorrow or something? He said he’s never seen Star Wars, and I want to show him.”
“He’s never seen Star Wars?”
Grady shakes his head while Saylor glances over her shoulder at us as if she’s overheard the blasphemy my son is spouting.
“Nope, he says he hasn’t saw them yet.”
“Are you hearing this, Miss Swenson?” I call out. Her pace slows, but her spine straightens as she waits for us to catch up.
When we do, she jokes, “No Star Wars? Who is this kid?”
“Obviously, he needs a little tutoring this weekend. You want to join us?” I offer.
Her eyes widen. “In tutoring Turner about all the epicness of Star Wars?”
“With Grady’s help, of course.”
“Oh, I––”
“It’ll be fun, Miss Swenson! Have you ever seen ‘em? The Star Wars movies?” Grady asks.
Saylor’s smile softens. “Yeah, Grady. I’ve seen them.”
“They’re so good, don’t you think?”
With a light laugh, she answers, “Yeah. They’re pretty good. Wanna know a secret?”
Grady nods.
“I, uh, I haven’t had a full Star Wars marathon since high school.”
My brows almost reach my hairline as she peeks up at me before turning back to my kid with bright red cheeks. It’s too late. I’m already lost in the memory of her straddling me during Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, grinding together on the couch in her parents’ basement until I had blue balls the next day.
“Dad?” Grady interrupts.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, Grady?”
“Can we?”
“Sure thing. I’ll text Turner’s mom and see what she says. We probably won’t be able to watch all of them in one day, though. That’s like ten movies or something.”
“Technically, there are nine if you don’t include the spin-offs,” Saylor chimes in. “Eleven if you count Solo and Rogue One, and twelve if you include The Mandalorian series on Netflix, which is actually pretty good. But your dad’s right. That’s way too much scree
n time for a single night.”
Grady’s jaw drops. “Whoa, Miss Swenson. You know more about Star Wars than my dad.”
“She’s a Jedi Master, Grady,” I interject with a smirk, my gaze glued to my very own Princess Leia. “Taught me everything I know.”
“Yeah?” Grady asks with wide eyes.
“Yup. So what do you say, Jedi Master?” I quirk my brow at Say. “Any chance you can take on a few more young Padawans this weekend?”
Lips pursed, she clarifies, “As friends?”
“Just friends,” I return, though I can feel Grady’s attention bouncing between the two of us. The kid isn’t stupid. He can feel the tension growing between me and Saylor the same way we can, and he’s waiting for the rubber band to snap, just like his old man.
Saylor licks her lips. “As friends, I’d love to join you. What time should we start?”
“I’ll text Mandy and see what she says. Any chance I could get your number so we can coordinate?”
“Oh, um….”
“My number’s the same as it used to be. Why don’t you just text me?” I offer.
“Used to be?” Grady pipes up, his little brows furrowed with confusion.
Saylor explains, “Your dad and I used to be…friends in high school.”
“Really?” Grady asks.
“Not exactly,” I interrupt. “I had a major crush on Miss Swenson back then.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm,” I confirm. “Why don’t you go climb into the car, and I’ll be right there, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Miss Swenson.” Grady waves his little hand back and forth through the air, and Saylor returns it.
“See ya, Grady.”
She rocks back on her heels, waiting for the back door of my car to close. When we have a bit more privacy, I step a little closer and keep my voice low. “Are you really coming? ‘Cause if not, I gotta prep that kid now so he isn’t disappointed.”
“Um….”
“I want you to come.”
“You sure that would be a good idea?” She peeks up at me.
“It’s just Star Wars, Saylor,” I lie. “Don’t overthink it. Besides, it would be an injustice to society to let a little boy remain a Star Wars noob.”