by B. A. Wolfe
Her pupils dilated as she gazed at my hand, closing around hers. “You called me by a nickname Jase used and I’m not ready for someone else to call me that. I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
It hit me. Hard. I knew exactly what I said. “Sweetheart,” I whispered. Her reaction from last night stole my sight for a second.
“How’d you know?” Her brows knit together.
She couldn’t know how I knew. “It was the only thing I called you last night other than Sweet Tea and your name. He called you that a lot?”
Nice recovery, you ass.
She nodded slow and easy, pulling her hand from my hold. “I shouldn’t have run off, but it stung—more than it should have.” Her eyes began to well. “But you didn’t know. And for that I’m sorry. This is my apology.” Her sweeping arm showcased the entire messy kitchen. “A breakfast full of grease for your hangover.”
I wanted to fold her in a hug and thank her, but I stayed behind my imaginary red line. “I appreciate the gesture, but you have nothing to apologize for.” I wasn’t leaving the kitchen. I rolled my sleeves up. “Now let’s finish this meal.”
She straightened her posture and grinned. “You’re going to help?”
I chuckled as I took the spatula between my fingers. “Try to, at least. My pancakes may end up just as burned, but I have hopes I can cook as least two that are edible.”
A noise from behind startled us and I jerked my head in that direction. Melanie, leaning against the basement door, wearing a pair of dark shades, messy sex hair, and last night’s clothes, straightened and came strolling into the kitchen.
“Hot mess much?” Cassie asked her friend, her eyes wide.
I stifled my laugh, but she’d stolen the words from my mouth. Melanie looked about as rough as the burned pancake I just chucked.
She held out her hand. “Don’t.” Her voice was as raspy as an eighty-year-old smoker’s. Her shoulders slouched as she slipped into a chair at the table. “Water. I need water.”
“Looks like someone’s hanging a little worse than you,” Cassie snickered. I loved her sass. More than I should. Damn.
“Obviously she had more than enoughhhh to drink,” I said teasing back.
A wide smile that could literally drop a man to his knees splashed across her face. I was seriously fucked.
Cassandra
MEL SHOVED ANOTHER PANCAKE into her mouth. “Thanks for breakfast, guys,” she mumbled between chews.
“Nice table manners, Mel.” The bit dangling from her lip grossed me out.
Aidan paused in scooping another serving of eggs onto his plate and shot me a wink. “Just let her eat, Cassie.”
He was right. I turned my eyes to my own plate. The only thing left was a smear of syrup and a few pieces of fruit. “And you said you couldn’t cook breakfast.” My eyes caught his.
He swallowed a bite of eggs. “Do you not remember those hockey pucks we tossed in the trash?”
“Yeah, but hey, we got more than enough edible ones.”
A smile spread from ear to ear. “With your help we did,” he replied.
“We make a good team,” I responded and almost immediately regretted my words. What was I saying? A good team? Who was I kidding?
We were, though. I’d poured the batter onto the skillet and he flipped them. There may be a few burned ones, but what was the fun in perfection? I should plaster that to a board and send it to my parents.
Mel set her fork down. “And I really am going to barf if you both continue with that crap.”
I popped a grape into my mouth. “Are you going to wear those sunglasses the whole day?” I asked her.
Her face cringed. “I might have to.”
I sighed and began picking up the plates. I reached for Aidan’s; he flashed a sexy grin that sent a memo to my brain, telling me to remember this moment. Sure, there was batter on the stove, flour decorating the floor, and more food charred than edible, but life wasn’t about cleaning up the messes you made. It was about the fun you had while making them.
“You really have to go home today?” I asked, pouting as I fed Jase in the wooden rocking chair downstairs.
“Yeah,” Mel said, with a deep sigh. “Greg—”
I interrupted her. “Greg needs you.”
She nodded as she tucked her make-up bag and hairbrush in the suitcase. “Sorry, Cass. I wish I could stay, but it’s my job. I have to go.”
“He sure is a needy bastard.”
“He means well. We’re so close to landing this huge client and it’s crunch time. Our presentation is tomorrow and I have to get with my team to finalize our proposal.” She zipped her suitcase shut. “Don’t be sad.”
I was. I couldn’t lie.
“You look pathetic right now. Stop giving me the sad puppy eyes.” She knelt in front of the rocking chair and held the arm of it.
“I know, but tonight’s the last event. Dinner at Grandma Maggie’s. I wanted you there.”
“Believe me; I’d rather be relaxing here, but duty calls.”
I laughed at her comment. She might look like hell, but somehow she was still put together, wearing a black pencil skirt, her normal six-inch heels, and a bright red blouse. “Call me when you get home.”
She lifted up and kissed Jase on the head. “You know I will.”
And with that, my best friend left me.
Cassandra
“CASSANDRA, WE’RE HEADING OVER now. Do you want to ride with us?” Trish walked into the kitchen and stood in front of me as I held Jase.
“I have to finish getting ready, but thank you.” I tipped my head down at my son. “We’ll meet you guys there.”
“Sounds good. See you in a bit.” She flashed a gentle grin and left the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, I was almost ready. I buttoned my black dress shorts and slipped a silky white tank over my head. I’d spent a whopping twenty minutes picking out a damn outfit for tonight’s dinner. At first, I didn’t understand why, and then my heart rate spiked as I realized that the very reason was on his way to Grandma Maggie’s with his parents.
I peered over at Jase already buckled in his car seat and smiled. He looked so cute in his khaki shorts and blue plaid button up that Mel had bought him. I glanced down at my own outfit one last time and then slipped on my black wedged sandals.
“Shall we?” I asked Jase, lifting his car seat from the floor and heading upstairs. I took a calming breath and snatched the diaper bag from the living room. Balancing the weight, I made my way to the front of the house. I was only three feet from the door when a deep voice halted me in my tracks.
“Hey, can I catch a ride with you?” Aidan rounded the corner from the hall as I spun to meet his gaze. He stood with a genuine smile spread across his face and his hands tucked in the front pockets of his dark jeans. A plaid buttoned up shirt with rolled up sleeves covered his chest and exposed his exceptionally delicious forearms.
I tilted my head. “I thought you left with your parents.”
He nudged his head back to his room. “I had to finish grading papers.”
I shot him a smile, one that was probably too warm. “Of course you can ride with us.” Oh geez. What was I in for?
He meandered toward me, untucking his hands in the process. “Thanks. You look really nice by the way,” he whispered as he took Jase’s car seat from my hold.
“Th-thank you,” I stuttered. My cheeks immediately heated. I had only spent twenty minutes picking it out. I looked up. “You look nice too, by the way.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as his eyes locked with mine.
“Thank you.” A chuckle left his lips as we headed out the door. Aidan locked it behind us. “Shall we?” He gestured toward the car.
I nodded, my face still overly warm.
A few flutters later, we were driving, and the awkward silence in the car drove me batty. Of all the times for Jase to be calm and for Aidan to not have any commentary, why this time? I craved the distraction tonight. I needed
Aidan to amuse me, engross me in something silly or at the very least, banter with me. I got nothing.
My hands grew slippery as I grasped the wheel. Knowing what was coming at the intersection ahead of me, I begged, pleaded, prayed for a green light. I didn’t want to have to stop. It was hard enough to see other stoplights and not cry for Jason, but that light was the only light in town. The place where he’d wrapped my little body in his arms while he danced us under the stars.
My breath trapped in my lungs as the stoplight came into view—dangling its pretty yellow light at me.
No. Please, no.
And then the only logical color to shine through the bulb appeared next. Red.
Fucking Red.
I wasn’t about to run it, especially with my precious cargo in the back, but I’d be goddamn if I didn’t want to. Pressing the brake pedal down was the one of the hardest things I’d ever done. The glow of the red light started to consume me. Visions of a night sky and a crimson tinted world filled my mind. There was nothing I could do to stop the memories. They were about to steal my heart.
“You can just drive through it, you know,” Aidan mentioned, distracting my thoughts from the hell in front of me.
My hands tensed until I was white knuckling the steering wheel. “I-I can’t break the law.”
Laugh lines appeared around his mouth. “Dave is the only police officer in town and he’s probably already at Grandma Maggie’s. Just go. It’s okay. I promise I won’t tell him when we get there.” He flashed a wink, jump-starting my heart with affection until my gaze jerked back to the traffic signal.
With a raging pain in my chest, I shifted the car into park, scrambled out, and slammed the door shut behind me. I dashed into the empty intersection, screaming at the damn light as if it would suddenly come to life and yell back.
“Fucking red light. Red light, Jase. Damn you!”
I grabbed a handful of gravel from the road and threw it as far as my weak, pathetic arm would allow. It didn’t make it but a few feet before the aftermath of dirt rained down over my body.
“Red . . . light,” I whispered, my voice non-existent as my body slowly crumpled to the ground.
Ache swelled inside of me as I took one last glance at the damn light. It beamed its scarlet shade another long second before it turned to the color I’d prayed so hard for: green.
A pair of strong arms snaked around my waist, pulling me upright. Aidan quietly held me to his chest. My arms wanted to hold him back, to accept the help he offered.
So I let them.
I wrapped them around his firm chest, gripping him tight as silent tears trickled down. My ear was held snug against him as I felt the steady drumming in his chest. I inhaled deeply, finally catching my breath. Slowly he pulled away and framed my face with his hands. Compassion swept through his eyes as he inspected every part of me.
I didn’t know what to tell him. Freaking out at a light—that he wouldn’t understand.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I focused on the only thing I could, his piercing eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. Come here.” He released my face and pulled me in once again, embracing me even tighter. “Next time we’ll take the back way,” he murmured against my ear.
“There’s a back way?”
“Yeah, it’s through the field, though, so we’d have to walk. But I think the traffic light might appreciate it.” His voice was teasing, but full of something sweet and affectionate. Something Aidan.
I huffed in amusement and in pure gratefulness. “Thank you,” I said as he released me from his hold.
“You’re welcome, Sweet Tea.” He led me back to the front of the car. “We’ll find you a blindfold for the trip home. For now, get in the passenger side. I’ll drive.”
Cassandra
AIDAN HELD OPEN THE door to Grandma Maggie’s, letting me squeeze by. “You still okay?” he asked, only loud enough for my ears as I slid past him.
“Yes, thank you,” I answered with my attention swirling around me like a swarm of bees.
Commotion was everywhere. This wasn’t the normal Sunday dinner, but a final farewell to Jason Bradley dinner. Most of the town—if not everyone—was inside. Chatter, giggles, and friendly faces were packed into every space available in Maggie’s house. I was flooded with memories of my first visit to her home and how nervous I’d been. Now I welcomed the commotion, the distraction, the others who missed Jason as much as I did. No one was alone.
I took Jase out of his seat while Aidan left us to make his rounds. My body slightly constricted at his absence, but the feeling soon dissipated as I caught Kacey’s eye.
The friend I’d made while living in Keaton oohed and awed over Jase while we caught up. She was now the high school principal’s secretary, with hopes of finishing her degree and becoming a teacher herself. “Without a lot of funds for college, I have to take classes when I can afford it. I’m only six credit hours away from graduating.”
“I started completely over myself. Seems normal to have a seven year plan, right?”
She nodded in agreement. “No truer words have been spoken.”
I laughed out loud at her response.
Before long, the herd began to make their way into the kitchen. Trish had scooped Jase up and in the blink of an eye was gone, showing him off.
A meal of the ‘usual’ caught my nose as I made my way down the hall toward the buffet. I peered around, looking for Aidan or Moose, but couldn’t find anyone familiar. Looking through a kitchen window into the backyard, I caught sight of something I hadn’t noticed before. I found myself wandering through the doors that led outside.
Drawing in a heavy breath, I stood with my feet planted on the edge of the back porch. It was serene out there, as if I had just stepped into a Thomas Kinkade painting. But the thing that had caught my attention was a Titanic-sized tree with a swing that hung by two ropes from one of its thick branches.
A smile crept upon my face as I ventured through the lawn. The aroma of fresh–cut grass tickled my nose as I approached the swing and grazed my fingers across the wooden seat, large enough for an adult to sit on. I tugged the ropes; feeling confident with their strength, I lowered onto the swing, my back to the house.
I gazed out over the yard, my legs dangling above the ground. My mind wandered where it wanted—from Aidan, to school, to living in Denver, to that pesky four-letter word . . . love. Everything was such a lie when I lived with my parents, but it was also so planned for that I didn’t have to sit and think about one thing. Now I had too much time to think about everything.
“Why are you out here all by yourself?”
Aidan’s voice pinned me to the wooden seat. My heart pounded as I answered him with the only thing that came to mind. “I’m . . . uh, watching the clouds.”
His hot breath hit the exposed flesh of my neck, right below my ear. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, beautiful,” he whispered, my belly dancing inside.
My eyes glared at the ocean of blue above me. He was right. Not a single damn cloud in the sky.
“What are you out here thinking about?” His voice practically purred as he asked me.
His hands took hold of the rope on either side of me and began pushing the swing forward. I held onto the seat as he did. Was he really pushing me in the swing? Was my heart really melting like a piece of chocolate left in a hot car? Yes.
“Just thinking,” I answered.
“Tell me something.”
“Hmmm . . .” I peered up at the clear sky for a second. “I hate peas.”
A hearty laugh escaped him. “Cute, Cassandra.”
“Well, you said ‘something.’ You didn’t specify what.”
I gained a little more speed; his hands left the ropes to push me on my back. The little girl in me loved every second of this.
“Tell me something that scares you.” His voice was soft and determined.
Hesitating, I sucked in a breath.
He stopped the swing and
twisted the ropes so I faced him. His eyes bore into mine. The depth in them almost swallowed me whole as he waited for me to speak.
My heart rate accelerated and I lowered my gaze to the grass by his feet. “I’m afraid that I’ll never find love again.”
A soft finger hooked under my chin, lifting it.
“It will happen. Don’t ever be afraid of that.” His words were laced with certainty.
“You seem so sure.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, an amused grin broke out across his face. Before he exposed any more truths, I turned the tables on him. “Your turn. Tell me something.” I wasn’t the only one divulging information today.
His mouth bowed. “I love peas.”
I sighed in frustration.
“It’s true!”
I gripped the rope underneath his hands. “You made me dig deeper than a vegetable. Tell me something real.”
His lips parted. “I miss having someone to tell everything to. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”
My mouth broke into a smile. “Someone you could tell anything to and they knew exactly the right thing to say to make you feel better?”
He nodded and I knew exactly how he felt. “Jason, right?”
His hand gripped the seat of the swing and a tremor ran through me as his fingers grazed the bare skin on my thigh. My insides danced, and I hated that it affected me so.
Aidan’s eyes locked on mine, pinning me deeper into the seat he held onto. “Yeah, but it’s not just Jason.”
I swore that in that brief moment, more truth was told than ever before. Everything around us blurred, and there was only a wooden swing, Aidan, and myself out there.
His breath caught and pulled me out of my trance. When he released the swing I twirled away. He cleared his throat. “Have you eaten yet?”
I shook my head.
“Stay here,” he said.
I couldn’t move if I tried.
Several minutes later, feet shuffled in the grass behind me. Aidan carried two loaded plates with condiments tucked to his sides like a pro. “You didn’t have to do this,” I said, meeting him halfway and grabbing a plate from his hand.