“How is that any different from what’s downstairs?”
He blushed a little, the pink hue spreading from ear to ear. Straight from sexy to adorable. I was definitely intrigued.
He motioned for me to come over. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
I crossed the room and he handed me an earbud, which I put in my ear. He hit play, and classical music filled my ears. I didn’t recognize it, which meant that it probably wasn’t Beethoven or Mozart. My knowledge of classical music was lacking.
“My older sister had a baby a few years ago, and she always played classical music for him both before and after he was born,” he explained. “It’s supposed to make him smarter or something. So, I figured, why not? It sure as hell can’t hurt. Now I’m hooked on it. It’s the only way I can study, especially living here.”
I handed back the earbud. “Did it work?”
He gave me a blank stare.
“For your nephew,” I clarified. “Is he smart?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s three, and he’s a hellion. Here.” He opened a file on the computer and up popped a picture of a little boy. I leaned in to get a better look. The kid had dark brown hair and a twinkle in his light blue eyes.
“He looks like you,” I commented.
“That’s what everyone says.”
“He’s a cute kid.”
“Thanks.”
I didn’t realize how close I was to Luke until I went to back up. If I moved a few inches to the left, I would be sitting in his lap. I thought back to the last time I was in his lap—in the DD’s car. I could faintly smell his cologne, and my stomach immediately tightened.
I stood up abruptly. “I can go so you can finish your paper.”
“No biggie. You can hang here if you want,” he offered. “I do have to work on my paper, though.”
“That’s fine.” I sat on the couch. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
His gaze traveled the length of my body slowly before landing on my eyes. “I doubt that.”
My insides warmed, and I was half a second away from jumping into his lap, but he put his earbuds in and turned back to his computer.
I took a deep breath. Get it together, Cori. Friends don’t jump each other’s bones. We weren’t those kinds of friends.
I took off my shoes and curled up on the couch. Might as well make myself comfortable. Who knew how long I’d be here?
I must have dozed off because I was startled awake by the chime of my cell phone. It was a text from Amber.
In Brad’s room. Where r u?
I texted back. Luke’s room.
WHAT! Give me details!
I rolled my eyes. Not like that. You ready to go?
Five minutes.
You said that over an hour ago!
She didn’t respond. I sighed, looking at the time.
Luke spun around in his chair. “I can take you home if you want.”
I hesitated. I felt bad making him go out, but it was super late, and I needed to get home. Amber probably couldn’t drive, and I could always take her car, but it was stick shift and I wasn’t too confident in my shifting abilities. I could probably get by in a pinch, but I didn’t want to try it in the dark if I didn’t have to.
Luke stood and grabbed his keys. “Come on.”
“Thanks,” I said gratefully.
His car was a Jeep with no doors or top and ginormous tires. I clambered up into the passenger’s side.
The wind made it pretty loud on the ride home, so that meant no small talk. I texted Amber on the way to let her know I left. I was no hypocrite.
When we pulled up to the Alpha house, Luke put the car in neutral.
I quickly undid my seat belt and prepared to exit the Jeep, hoping I could do so more gracefully than when I got in.
“Thanks again,” I said.
“Anytime. Hey, Cori?”
I turned. “Yeah?”
“You want to go out this weekend? Maybe dinner and a movie or something?”
My mind whirled. My immediate gut reaction was YES! Then reality set in. How could I even think about a date when I was planning to have dinner with my dead boyfriend’s father tomorrow night? It just seemed…wrong.
Because it was wrong.
But I liked Luke.
I hadn’t planned to. In fact, a relationship did not fit in my life plan right now, not in the least. I had more important things to deal with, like tuition. Getting involved with Luke would only add another complication to my life.
But I couldn’t deny my attraction to him. Even now at nearly one in the morning when I probably looked like I’d been run over by the Jeep instead of ridden in it, he looked like he walked out of a cologne ad, sexy stubble on his face and all.
And what if things went wrong? If the past two weeks were any indication, it seemed like I would be seeing him a lot over the next few months. I didn’t want to set myself up for a semester of awkward encounters.
“You can pick the movie, if that makes a difference.” His hand remained on the shifter, but his thumb tapped rapidly.
I realized I was taking too long to respond.
Wait, was he nervous?
He looked out the windshield instead of at me. He was nervous. That realization made me giddy. He liked me.
What the hell. Amber was always telling me I was too uptight. So I went with my gut. “Yes.”
“Friday?”
I nodded and hopped down out of the Jeep. It was more of a falling hop, but still.
Right before I shut the door, he said, “Cori? Don’t pick a chick flick, okay? You’re cooler than that.”
I grinned. “I guess you’ll find out.” I slammed the door and walked to the house. I didn’t turn around until I got to the front door. I gave him a little wave. He waved back, but he didn’t drive off until I was safely inside.
I leaned against the door and hugged myself, sighing like a heroine in a silly teen movie.
I felt like one.
I hadn’t been on a first date since I was fourteen. Not since Tyler— No. I wasn’t ruining this. For the first time in a while, I was happy. Ridiculously, deliriously happy. I didn’t realize how unhappy I’d been.
“You’re allowed to be happy.”
The therapist my parents had sent me to after Tyler died used to tell me that all the time. I hadn’t understood until now.
I still had a lot of crap going wrong in my life, like lack of tuition and a dead boyfriend, but for tonight, I was allowing myself to be happy.
Chapter Eleven
I checked my face in the rearview mirror and pulled out my compact for a touch-up even though I didn’t need it.
I was ten minutes early for my dinner with Mr. Pullman. I glanced at my cell phone. No new messages since two minutes ago.
Yup, I was using every stall tactic in the book. I was so not looking forward to this dinner. At least I would get a good meal out of it. The restaurant looked like the type that required coats and ties and had real linen tablecloths. I was glad I’d changed into a skirt.
I hadn’t seen the man since graduation. And I’d only met him one time other than that in five years. So forgive me if I didn’t have much sympathy for him. True, he’d lost his son, but he hadn’t been a real father to Tyler.
When I got down to two minutes left, I gave in to the inevitable and left the safety of my car. I never should have agreed to this meeting.
The restaurant lobby was dimly lit with rich wooden paneling and thick maroon carpet. The furniture was heavy and had ornately carved patterns. A maître d’ stood erectly at a podium. I gave him my name, but Mr. Pullman hadn’t arrived yet, so I sat down to wait in a chair that could have doubled as a throne.
When Mr. Pullman walked in, he glanced around. His gaze rested on me for a moment before passing me over.
He didn’t recognize me.
I stood and smoothed down my skirt. “Mr. Pullman.”
He smiled a smooth businessman’s smile and crossed t
o me. “Cori, of course. It’s been too long.”
I shook his hand and in his face I saw the ghost of the boy I once loved. If Tyler had lived, I imagine he would have eventually looked just like his father. Sandy hair, brown eyes, an aristocratic nose—the Pullman men were handsome in a posh sort of way.
My hand lingered in his a moment too long and I noticed the shape of it was eerily similar to Tyler’s. I yanked my hand away, taking a step back as my heart hammered. This was definitely a mistake.
Slight shock shone in his eyes before his face returned to a carefully polished expression. He smiled tightly. “Shall we?”
I followed the maître d’ to our table where he pulled my chair out for me and placed my napkin in my lap. While I could appreciate fine dining, I was more of a peanuts-on-the-floor restaurant type of girl. I was right about linen tablecloths. There was also more silverware than I knew what to do with.
Mr. Pullman perused the wine list. “I hear they have a lovely merlot from a local winery. Have you tried it?” He looked up from the wine list and peered at me over his reading glasses.
“I’m nineteen,” I replied flatly. “The same age as your son.”
He cleared his throat and focused his attention on the wine list again. “Yes, of course.”
I opened my menu with shaking hands and used it to block my face while I regained control of my emotions. The bastard didn’t even know how old his own damn son was.
After the waiter poured the wine and took our orders, I could no longer hide behind the safety of the menu. I straightened my spine and set my hands in my lap. I wouldn’t let him see me squirm.
Mr. Pullman held up his wine glass, rotating his wrist so that the liquid swirled. “Tell me about yourself, Cori.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you want to know?” There was no way I was making this easy for him.
“For starters, what’s your major?”
“Political science, pre-law.”
“That’s much different than Tyler’s.” The intonation of his voice indicated that he didn’t know if this should be a question or not.
I leaned forward. “Do you even know what his major was?”
“Of course,” he said dismissively. “Science.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You don’t know, do you?”
He placed his wine glass on the table and steepled his fingers. “Why do you think I asked to see you?”
I gritted my teeth, looking away. I’d known going into this he barely knew Tyler. Seeing it first hand, though, irked me. Tyler had deserved better.
“Biochemistry,” I said.
“Interesting. What did he plan to do with it?”
I wasn’t sure I could answer the question. In high school, Tyler had wanted to do medical research, like finding a cure for cancer. That could have changed in that last year, and I wouldn’t know.
I fiddled with my fork. “I’m not sure I’m the best person to help you get to know Tyler. That last year, he and I weren’t…as close as we used to be.”
“Yet you still wear his necklace around your neck.”
My hand flew to my throat, where the silver necklace had freed itself from under my blouse. “How did you know he gave me this?”
Mr. Pullman smiled smugly, and I hated him a little more. “I was with him when he bought it. I did see my son occasionally.”
“Why only occasionally?”
He looked away. “I’m not here to discuss that.”
“Don’t you think—”
He slammed his fist on the table, rattling the silverware. “That’s between me and my son.”
The other patrons in the restaurant looked over at us curiously.
I leaned back in my chair. “Your son is dead.” I threw my napkin on the table and stood. “This was a mistake.”
Whatever problems Tyler and I had had, I’d loved him. I couldn’t say the same for this man. I refused to be disloyal to Tyler’s memory by discussing him with his sham of a father.
Mr. Pullman grabbed my wrist as I walked past. “Please, stay.” I started to pull free, but his pleading eyes, so much like Tyler’s, weakened me. I returned to my seat and crossed my arms.
“I’m a very busy man.” He took a deep breath, showing a crack in his armor. “I always thought I would have time for Tyler later. I was never good with children, so I figured when he became an adult, we could develop a relationship.”
I frowned and shook my head. “It doesn’t work that way.”
Our conversation was halted as the waiter placed salads in front of us and offered fresh ground pepper.
Mr. Pullman poked at his salad, a grimace on his face. I clenched my fork, knuckles turning white. Tyler used to do the same thing. He always ordered salad as a starter even though he didn’t seem to like it, only ever taking a few bites.
Mr. Pullman looked at me expectantly, and I realized he must have said something. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Can you share one of your favorite memories of Tyler?” he asked. His voice somehow seemed small, like he’d lost some of his authority, his power. He was asking me to take pity on him.
I leaned back in my chair, pondering. Tyler and I had been inseparable all four years in high school, plus we were still together our first year in college, even if it was rough. Five years’ worth of memories was a lot to sift through.
The most recent memories came to mind first, like the last time we saw each other—familiar and awkward at the same time. We had both known things had changed but neither of us had been willing to admit it. Stubbornness was a trait we shared.
I went back further and smiled as one memory came to mind. “I had a pageant the same night as Tyler’s semi-final soccer game. The pageant was in Hudson Hall, so it was a pretty formal affair. Even the audience was expected to dress for it. Anyway, Tyler always came to my pageants. He never missed one. At the end of the opening number, there was a scuffle in the audience. It was so loud we heard it from backstage. I peeked through the curtains to see Tyler arguing with a security guard. He was wearing his soccer uniform, which was covered in mud and grass stains. He didn’t have time to go home and change first, and he refused to leave. I don’t know what he did, but eventually he must have convinced the guard to let him stay, because there he was sitting in the front row, grass stains and all, when I went onstage to do my talent.”
My chin quivered and tears threatened to spill over. I sucked in my lip and blotted the tears out of my eyes with my napkin.
Mr. Pullman smiled, his salad long forgotten. “He sounds like he was very devoted to you.”
A knot formed in my throat, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. “He was a great boyfriend.”
…
I sat in my car in the parking lot long after Mr. Pullman had left. I hadn’t looked forward to this meeting, but I also hadn’t realized exactly how difficult it would be.
I tried not to think about Tyler often. It was the only way I was able to move forward. Or so I had thought. Recently I’d realized I hadn’t been moving forward at all—I’d just been treading in place, barely keeping my head high enough to continue breathing.
The fact was that if he had lived, we’d probably be broken up by now anyway. But it was the probably that killed me. I didn’t know what might have actually happened. Maybe we would have worked things out. Maybe not.
But I would never know.
And there was nothing to be gained from wondering about it.
I took a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I willed the thoughts of Tyler back into the recesses of my mind. I pictured a steel door and shut those memories behind it.
I looked down at the plain white envelope sitting in my lap. Mr. Pullman had handed it to me before we parted ways. I opened it now and found a check for one thousand dollars.
My mouth formed an O.
What…the…hell.
I guess Mr. Pullman meant it when he said he’d make it worth my while.
I crammed
the check back in the envelope and stuffed the envelope in my purse, out of sight.
I couldn’t accept the money, could I? There was something that seemed wrong about it, like I was selling out or something, like I was cheap.
Mr. Pullman was loaded, so it wasn’t a financial hardship for him. I didn’t know exactly how much money he had, but this was probably just a drop in the bucket for him.
For me, this check would go a long way toward my tuition for next semester.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I stared at the corner of the envelope sticking out of my purse.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. Having dinner with my deceased boyfriend’s father was not wrong. And if he wanted to make an investment in my education, so be it.
It’s not like I’d asked for the money. It wasn’t a condition of my meeting him. I hadn’t put a price on my memories of Tyler.
And each day that passed was one day closer to my spring tuition being due. So far my search for scholarships had turned up next to nothing.
I didn’t have time for sentimentality where my spring tuition was concerned. I needed money, and I needed it now. It was practical, pure and simple. I would be foolish not to take advantage of this gift.
I swallowed my lingering doubts and started the ignition. I needed to get to the ATM to deposit this check before I changed my mind.
Chapter Twelve
Luke slid into the seat next to me in criminology. “Did you pick the movie yet?”
I gave him what I hoped was a coy smile. I wasn’t necessarily trying to flirt with him. I just hadn’t chosen a movie yet. It’d totally slipped my mind between dinner with Mr. Pullman and working on two scholarship essays.
He rapped his fist against his forehead, closed his eyes, and groaned. “You picked a chick flick, didn’t you?”
I smiled serenely. The truth was that I didn’t even know what was playing. I was a little out of touch.
“If you did, that’s okay. I’m a man of my word. I’ll watch it.” The look on his face was pained, like he’d just hit his thumb with a hammer or something. It might be worth it to choose a chick flick just to see his expression during the movie.
“What’s so bad with chick flicks?” I asked with a straight face. “They have happy endings. Everyone likes a happy ending.”
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