“But, Nash—”
“Nash isn’t going home and scoring you. He’s not assigning you a grade. Be yourself and he’s sure to fall head over heels in love with you. Because you’re awesome, dangit.”
Tears stung the back of Tally’s eyes. Instead of ducking away like she might have a few months ago, she stared at Monroe’s slightly blurry face and blinked. “I’m dyslexic.”
Monroe’s eyes flared before narrowing in an eviscerating stare. “I’m surprised, but not shocked. Does Cade know?”
“Told him a few weeks ago.”
“Have you told Nash?”
“Of course, I haven’t. I’m not sure why I even told you.” She chuffed and rubbed her nose, forcing the tears away. “It’s no one’s business. Anyway, this is really about the fact that Nash and I are better as friends. If we take things further and things go south like they tend to do, then I’ll lose everything.”
Monroe pulled her in for a hug, patted her shoulder, and whispered, “But if things go well, think of what you have to gain.”
“He won’t understand.”
Monroe gave her a little shake. “You don’t give the people who care about you enough credit.”
Reed stuck his head out the door. “Yo, Tally, there’s a dude here looking for work. You want to talk to him?”
“Sure, why not.” She was grateful for the interruption and stepped past Monroe. The air conditioning wafted over her, chilly on her sweat-dampened skin. A young man with light blond hair was studying the bulletin board with class schedules and announcements a dozen feet away. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he rocked on his feet, giving the impression of nerves.
Monroe was the first to react. “Oh my goodness, it’s you!”
The man turned, his initial surprise fading into suspicion. “You’re the lady from the bar.”
Tally exchanged a look with Reed, but didn’t interfere.
“I’ve been trying to find you to make sure you’re okay and to thank you for your help that night.”
“It was nothing.” The man rubbed across his jaw and turned his head to the side, Webster’s definition of uncomfortable.
“It most certainly was something. You put yourself in harm’s way to protect me and Kayla,” Monroe said.
Tally inhaled and pointed. She’d heard the story. “He’s the one? And you’re looking for work?”
“I thought you had a job lined up working crayfish traps?” Monroe stepped closer to him, and he backed into the bulletin board, sending a paper and its tack to the floor.
“Turns out that ass—pardon, me—that jerk from the bar was friends with my new boss’s son. I only worked a couple of days before I was fired.”
“That’s terrible.” Monroe turned. “Give him a job, Tally.”
Tally held up both hands. “Now hang on. First of all, I don’t have anything but part-time work to offer. And, secondly, your friend here might not even be interested in grunt work.”
“I’ll take anything, ma’am.”
His earnestness was apparent, but there was more. An acceptance of defeat. An understanding that life wasn’t fair. She had a feeling he had gotten the short end of luck more times than not. She could certainly commiserate.
The bells over the door tinkled. Cade only had eyes for Monroe, and immediately put his arm around her. Only once he had her anchored to him did he acknowledge the rest of them.
Monroe poked him in the side. “Cade, this is the young man I was telling you about. From that night at the Rivershack Tavern.”
“Monroe’s knight in shining armor.” Cade stuck out his hand. “I’m Cade Fournette.” The young man hesitated before returning the shake.
“Jeremy Whitehurst.” He dropped Cade’s hand and rubbed both of his down the front of his jeans. “Look, I’m not some hero or anything. Got my butt handed to me as a matter of fact.”
“It was at least three on one.” Monroe turned a sugared smile on Cade. “Jeremy got fired because he stood up for me and Kayla and needs a job. Tally has a part-time thing open here, but weren’t you talking about taking on some help?”
“You know anything about engines? Mechanics?” Cade asked.
“A little. Learned how to keep my motorcycle running.” Jeremy shifted again and stuck his hands into his back pockets.
Cade hummed, but a faint smile turned the corners of his lips. “That’s how we country boys get our start, it seems. How about you come out for a two-week trial? We’re still getting things set up in the new shop, but if you stick, you’ll learn a trade and maybe more. Fournette Brothers Designs is on the cutting edge of engine technology.”
“Here in Cottonbloom?” Jeremy’s incredulity was clear.
Cade’s laugh reverberated around the entry. An old memory surfaced, one Tally couldn’t put a place or time stamp on, but it featured a laughing Cade tossing her in the air. If everyone wouldn’t think she was touched in the head, she would have hugged Monroe for helping Cade find his laugh.
“Yes, here in Cottonbloom. You can start at fifteen dollars an hour. What do you say?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough, and I’ll learn more, since you’ll be in my back pocket all day, every day while you’re training. If things don’t work out, then we part ways after two weeks, no harm, no foul. Deal?”
This time Jeremy didn’t hesitate to take Cade’s hand. “Deal.”
Cade and Jeremy stepped to the side to continue their discussion. Reed propped his elbows on the desk. “That still leaves us short. I’m sick of taking out the trash and sweeping on top of opening and closing.”
Tally couldn’t afford to lose Reed. “I know. Me too.”
A gaggle of girls entered the gym. Monroe propped her hip on the side of the desk, greeting each one by name. “Hey, Kayla, come here a sec.”
The girl peeled off from the group. “What’s up, Monroe?”
“Weren’t you talking about wanting some part-time work?”
“I was. All the sales jobs I’ve applied for interfere with school hours.” Kayla cast a glance over her shoulder. “Isn’t that…”
“Yep. I wasn’t sure you’d recognize him.”
“I remember his eyes. A weird blue. Unless I was imagining it.”
“He’s going to start working with Cade in the shop. Tally might have something you can do around here.” Monroe side-eyed Tally.
Tally assessed Kayla for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea. Kayla was familiar with the gym and despite some recent bumps, she was a good kid.
“That would be so awesome, but I understand if…” The girl shrugged, her big brown eyes shining with an expectancy that mirrored Jeremy’s. An expectation of failure.
“It’s not very exciting work. Cleaning equipment, the bathrooms, sweeping, taking out the garbage, but I’m flexible about when you work and could use you some on weekends too.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I’m up for whatever you need me to do. I promise I’ll be the best employee ever.” Kayla clasped her hands and held them under her chin.
“Hey now, I don’t need anyone making me look bad.” Reed winked from behind the desk. Tally held his gaze and tilted her head in an unspoken question. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“Do you want to start tomorrow? I’ve got to get the signs for the festival designed and the senior aerobics class nailed down. Help with the all the routine stuff would be a big help.” They stood a couple of minutes talking about pay and times before Kayla skipped-ran toward the locker room to change before Monroe’s class. Jeremy’s head turned to follow her progress.
“That was more excitement than I’m used to.” Reed settled back on the stool and crossed his arms.
A minimized window in the right corner of the computer had her cocking her head. “I heard you and Nash have been going at it.”
Reed tensed. “Who told you that?”
“Nash did. He said you’ve actually beat him a couple of times.” She gestured toward the
computer. “It’s okay if you want to play while you’re on desk duty. Just no chess porn.”
Reed’s laugh was a little too loud for her joke. “’Course not. Chess is my strange addiction.”
“It’s not strange.”
Reed raised an eyebrow.
“It’s unexpected. How about that? But very cool.”
“Chess is not cool. It’s nerdy and not sexy.”
“Nerdy and sexy aren’t mutually exclusive.” Her voice had taken on a strident militancy, and she attempted to backtrack. “I mean, you know, some women are into that sort of thing. I’ve heard.”
This time both Reed’s eyebrows went up along with the corners of his mouth.
“Oh, hush up,” she muttered even though he hadn’t verbalized what was written all over his face. “Don’t you have something work related to do?” She spun away and headed to her office in the back.
She sat in the swivel chair and stared at nothing, her mind circling the problem of Nash. She needed to get her relationship with him under control. Sure, they were having fun and were attracted to each other, but their date in Jackson had magnified their differences. Long term, a relationship wouldn’t work, and taking things further with him physically would only complicate everything. Their friendship was the most important thing.
It would be simpler and smarter to put the brakes on whatever was developing before she did something foolish like fall in love with him.
* * *
She was nervous and sad and felt like something was clawing at her heart. Her stomach cramped. If they took things further and it ended badly, she might end up hospitalized. She couldn’t, wouldn’t risk their friendship. It was too important.
She rubbed her hands down her jeans, blew out a long breath, and knocked on the cottage door. No footsteps sounded on the other side. She tried again and waited. Nothing. She walked around to the front of the main house and hesitated. His Defender was in the driveway.
The last time she walked up the front steps of the main house, she’d been twelve and scared and desperate for a friend. She’d left feeling dirty and unworthy and unwanted. It seemed a blink of time, each step casting her back a few more years to the girl she’d been.
She rang the doorbell, multiple tones echoing. The clack of heels on a wood floor had her smoothing a hand over her ponytail and pushing her shoulders back. Ms. Leora opened the door, her mouth pinching as soon as she identified Tally.
Tally tried to smile, not sure if she was actually succeeding. “Hello, Ms. Leora. Is Nash here?”
The old woman’s gaze was sharp, piercing Tally’s false bravado. “He’s at the college working. His battery died, and one of the other professors picked him up. A woman. A very attractive woman.”
Ms. Leora had a glint in her eye. Satisfaction? Malice? Either way, her barb had found its mark. It sounded like Emma from the bar. She was perfect for Nash. Tally knew it, Ms. Leora knew it, and it was a matter of time before Nash realized it too.
“I guess you’ve given up on fixing Nash up with Bailey now someone even better has come along.” Tally half-turned toward the stairs.
“It’s difficult, you know.” Ms. Leora’s gaze had scooted off to the side.
Tally pivoted back to face the old lady. “What’s difficult?”
“You can’t stop people from changing. As much as I wanted to.” Ms. Leora’s voice took on a faraway quality.
“Are you talking about Nash? Or someone else?” Had Nash been right about his aunt and her uncle?
Ms. Leora’s focus was back on Tally. “Love destroys. Look at your parents, my sister, me and … I don’t want to see Nash follow down that road.”
An echoing sadness resonated between them. An understanding that seemed impossible, yet was unmistakable. She wasn’t sure if love equaled destruction, but love certainly hadn’t saved her parents or Nash’s mother. At best, love was a bystander to tragedy. “I don’t want to see Nash hurt either, Ms. Leora. He’s important to me. Always has been.”
“He’s all I have.” Ms. Leora’s voice warbled, and Tally’s hand rose to offer comfort before she pulled it back, unsure.
“I’m not trying to take him away from you.”
“He’ll drift away, back over the river.” Her voice held a hint of desolation.
“It’s never too late, you know.” Tally couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth. She was a realist. She didn’t believe love could conquer all. It’s why she was getting ready to tell Nash they were better off remaining friends.
The wispiest of smiles crinkled Ms. Leora’s cheeks for a moment. “It’s too late for me. Nash didn’t tell me when he’s getting home. Do you need his number?”
“I have it, thanks.” Tally backed toward the steps, keeping Ms. Leora in her sights until she closed the door.
Tally drove toward the college, needing to settle things face-to-face. A phone call, while alluring, was the cowardly way out. The student lot was sparse, and she got a spot close to a stately redbrick building. Huge magnolia trees and an assortment of hardwoods dotted a green space criss-crossed by concrete walkways. Students sat on scattered benches, some reading, some scribbling notes, some talking. Buildings circled the common area, some tall, some squat, but they all looked part of an extended family.
The area vibrated with energy and youth. The last time she’d been on the Cottonbloom College campus was as a junior in high school on a field trip. She felt exactly as she had then—an unwelcome alien stepping foot on a different planet.
Fliers advertising for tutoring or roommates framed a plastic-covered map under an overhang. The arts and humanities building was at the near end, a five-story brick building with a metal modern sculpture in front. She had no idea what the artist intended, but the swooping curves were a perfect representation of the state of her stomach.
The directory inside led her to the third floor. Everything was quiet. Offices lined the corridor. The black-and-white linoleum floor shined, and the concrete walls were painted a stark white. The scent of institutional cleaners was overlaid by the smell of books and paper and lead. All things that cast her back to high school and grew the knot of dread lodged in her chest.
She was doing the right thing. Counting down to the number next to Nash’s name on the directory led her to the last office on the right. The door was open a few inches and voices snaked out. Nash’s deep laughter was cut through by feminine giggles.
Tally leaned against the cool concrete wall for a moment, pressing her fingertips under her eyes to beat back the sting of approaching tears. She could cry later, once she was alone. A deep breath fortified her courage, and she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Nash called.
She toed the door fully open. Nash was kicked back in a swivel chair, his feet propped on the desk between two stacks of books, his glasses sitting on the tallest tower. Emma sat on the near corner, her black pencil skirt riding to mid-thigh and her leg swinging. The woman was even more attractive than Tally remembered. She had a foreign sophistication that was out of place in Cottonbloom.
“Tally.” Nash dropped his feet to the floor and stood. He didn’t appear happy or unhappy, just surprised.
Emma darted her gaze between them and rose. “I need to be going. My next class starts in a half hour. I’ll catch you later, Nash.”
“Sure thing, Emma.”
The woman walked up to Tally, a smile on her face. None of the cold animosity from their last meeting colored her face or voice. “Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise.” She choked the word out and didn’t even attempt an answering smile.
The woman tilted her head, her perfectly arched eyebrows quirking. “If you’ll excuse me?”
Tally was smack dab in middle of the doorway, blocking the woman’s exit. She side-stepped and gestured to the door. Emma walked down the long hallway, her heels tapping, before disappearing into an office halfway down.
Nash grabbed her hand, tugged her inside, and closed the
door behind him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Hope I wasn’t interrupting.” She lied. She was glad the woman was gone. Which made no sense if she and Nash were going to be just friends.
“Not a bit. Emma and I were talking shop. I like to give her a hard time about how she picked the easiest subject. Plus, she’s a good sounding board for my paper, which is turning into something more.”
Tally moved farther into the room and picked up a book, running her fingers over the fading gold words along the spine. “What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking of expanding my research into a book.” Excitement thrummed the words, and his grin was lopsided and endearing.
“I can’t read.” The words blurted out and hung in the air like a comic-book bubble. Her entire body tensed, her lungs freezing.
His smile turned into a frown and he crinkled his forehead. “What are you talking about? I know you can read.”
“I mean, I’m not illiterate, but I’m dyslexic.”
His brow cleared, turning his face into a blank canvas. The silence seemed to stretch to infinity until she broke it, stumbling over her words. “It’s why I asked you to order dinner for me in Jackson. I really hate trout, by the way. The typeset they used on that stupid menu was impossible.”
She turned toward the window. Students walked from building to building, their laden backpacks making them look like migrating turtles.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me?”
His voice came from right behind her, and her body leaned toward him instinctively. She corrected herself and put her back against the window. “I should have told you ages ago so you weren’t wasting your time with me.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wasting my time? What are you talking about?”
“I know we’re messing around because of that list, but it feels like … I mean, I don’t kiss my friends.” She didn’t add that she could count her friends of both sexes on one hand. “I think we should keep our friendship solid, don’t you?”
“Are you saying you’re not physically attracted to me?”
She’d never been more attracted to a man. His body, yes, but everything else about him was equally as attractive. It screwed with her sense of logic.
Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel Page 17