Last Time We Kissed_A Second Chance Romance

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Last Time We Kissed_A Second Chance Romance Page 79

by Nicole Snow


  I'm starting to care.

  It's the pinpoint moment when I should've known I was officially fucked.

  A week later, I'm standing by her locker. There's no Scourge to worry about, thank Christ, because he's been skipping out the last few days.

  I see Maddie trot up, punch in her code, and pull the silver handle until the door pops open. She ignores me standing behind her, leaning casually against the wall. Clearing my throat gets her attention.

  “Yes?” She turns, her eyes wide and anxious behind her thick black frames.

  “You got a date yet for winter dance, or what?” I ask, stepping up with an arrogant smirk overtaking my lips.

  Christmas has come early for her, and it feels good to play Santa. She ought to thank me, maybe be a good girl and sit on my lap. The Cal Randolph is asking her to be his date, and I'm confident my competition is nil. She's too damned shy to catch any other guy's interest.

  Doll stays quiet. Looking down. Blushing. I've given her such a dream-come-true shock she can't even answer me. It's adorable at first. I appreciate her as she really is.

  So innocent and pensive. So ready to be corrupted. So fucking mine.

  I want to grab her face, push her hair over her shoulder, and then bite her lip while I find out what it takes to steam her lenses.

  “Answer me, Doll. It's next week, and I need a date.” I move in, bringing my fingers to her chin. Gently lifting her head, I wait for her eyes, lock them down in my gaze. “I want it to be you.”

  “Cal, what happened last week...with Scourge...” her voice is so hush I have to lean in to make anything out.

  Can't believe she's still worried. “Forget it. He pesters you again, just say the word, and it's done. Anything else, ignore the idiot. If he's leaving you alone, we're all better off letting bygones be bygones, right?”

  I've never seen a girl's cheeks so red. She doesn't answer me, just shuffles her feet, kicking my toe lightly with hers. “I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm not going,” she blurts out.

  “What?” Are my ears fucking lying?

  Her eyes break from mine in a panic, and she steps out of my grasp, bumping her locker shut behind her. “My parents don't want me to go. It's too close to Christmas, and we're heading to Oregon to visit my grandma. That's it. I'm sorry I can't come. Have a good time.”

  No, it's not my ears. It's her. Feeding me the biggest load of crap I've ever imagined in such a reluctant, mousy tone.

  I don't chase after her. I watch her practically run, race to the bus, where she clambers into her seat and looks back at the school through the window. I think I see tears in her eyes.

  It doesn't make sense, whatever's gotten into her.

  Frankly, it doesn't fucking matter.

  No one says no to me, and walks away with a second chance. I don't pursue ice queens. My big brother always said the worst mistake a man can make is chasing pussy that isn't interested, and I believe him.

  Fine, Doll. We'll do it your way.

  Fuck the winter dance. Stay home with your crayons and cartoons. I'll have fun like a grownup. I'm done. Won't even wonder why the hell you're so scared to claim the prize every other girl here would die for.

  I resist the urge to slam my fist into somebody's locker, either hers or Scourge's, and head straight for the boy's locker room downstairs. It's the off season for lacrosse, my last one before college, and I'm already over-training. One more dark winter evening won't hurt.

  It's the better alternative to ripping this school apart with my bare hands in rage, one rotten brick at a time.

  Present Day

  Silence follows Maddie like a shadow.

  She's barely said a word all morning. We're having our chicken and waffles at an upscale seafood place across town specializing in low country food from the Carolinas for Sunday brunch.

  I try to enjoy my meal, knowing I'll need the sustenance before we catch the ferry to Bainbridge. It'll be our first meeting with my old man at the big, empty hospice I used to call home.

  Selling this engagement needs to hit hard.

  Halfway through the meal, her fork clatters and slaps the plate. She looks at me, arms folded. “So, are you ever going to apologize for being a dick the other night?”

  “Depends. If I do, are you willing to talk boundaries, and then pull the stick out of your sweet ass and start acting like you're happy to be my wife?”

  Wrong words. I see her eye twitch, a signal she's a heartbeat away from getting up and storming off.

  I'm not getting anywhere without an apology.

  “Look, my tact might have been better, I'll give you that. Never meant to put you in tears, Maddie. Honest,” I say, looking left and right in my peripheral vision to make sure there's no one around for what comes next. “I owe you an apology for that. There are no excuses, but this whole arrangement isn't any easier on me. I haven't handled the stress as well as I should, and that's on me. I won't take it out on you again.”

  If she's satisfied, her expression doesn't show it. At least she hasn't fled. “You've always been a jerk to me, Cal. I can think of two, maybe three times when you weren't. One being the day you saved me from those bullies when we were running laps, next time when we kissed, and the other –“

  “Don't say it,” I hold up my hand, before she takes us down the darkest part of memory lane. “We can't go there. No fucking point.”

  “Fine. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because it sounds like you mean it. Christ, I want to believe that. One more chance, Cal. But it's probably the last if there's another evening like Friday.”

  “Fair enough. You respect my boundaries, I'll respect yours, and we won't have issues.”

  “Showing a little humility works wonders. I could have used that at Maynard, after you asked Tina out in front of me and rammed your tongue down her throat...”

  Oh, she's still bitter about that? I suppose she ought to be, but it doesn't stop the fire spiking in my blood.

  “It was seven years ago, doll. You said no to the winter dance for reasons I'll never understand. We were clueless fucking kids, everyone.”

  How the hell could I forget that day? I waited like a snake in the grass for her to come out of the locker room before I laid the heat on Tina. Made sure she had her lips all over me, halfway moaning my name, before I popped the question about the dance, and she gave me an emphatic yes.

  Maddie looked crucified. Don't think she ever forgave me until I came to her rescue for the very last time.

  Even now, she looks indignant, like my excuse does zero for her pride. “I tried telling you how I felt several times. Did you really never get my notes in jail? Not a single one?” she asks coldly. “I couldn't do the dance. I was worried about both of us, Cal, after you and your friends got into it with Scourge and his guys that day over Chelle. Turns out I was right. My friends told me what he said, how they vowed to make life hard for you, and any girl you were with. I couldn't let that be me. I couldn't be responsible for pulling you in deeper.”

  I don't say anything, stabbing at the last of my food. “Who cares? Never helped in the end, did it?”

  She shakes her head reluctantly. We know exactly what happened next, how evil life can be.

  “It was seven years ago, Maddie. Time to start living in the present.”

  She's quiet for a few seconds before a soft sigh escapes her lips. “Whatever. You're right.”

  We clear our plates, enjoying the relieved atmosphere. One more cup of black coffee for me and an orange juice for her later, and we settle our bill, heading out into the quiet morning.

  It's almost half an hour to Bainbridge. I take my own car onto the ferry, as I do every Sunday, dispensing with the driver for local, private hops like these. It's a good thing, too, after I dropped half a million on that damned vase. My budget is going to face corrections soon if I can't win my father over, before he screws me beyond the grave.

  “Any last minute questions?” I ask her as we roll through the illustrious
family gates, the Randolph name formed in wrought iron overhead like a greeting, or a warning, to all who enter.

  “No. I'll follow your lead. It's probably good that I don't say much, and let you do the talking, considering how things are...” She stops herself just short of getting into the crap between my dad and me. Wise choice.

  “Wrong, Maddie. I need your tongue. Charm him. Please.” I give her a look while I park the car on the long driveway, witnessing her surprise. “He's heard the same old shit from me every Sunday for the last three months since he got in that bed, and they told him he was never coming out. You're fresh. New. A wild card, even if he thinks you're just a Joker.”

  “That's...kind of a lot of pressure,” she says, looking down at her lap.

  “You'll pass the test. You always do. Never saw you fail one even once at the academy. Your record in contracts speaks for itself, too. Cade knows a guy in Seoul who said you were instrumental to opening up the Great Firewall of China and letting Sterner code apps into their market. Think you made every other sorry bastard after the same thing turn green with envy.”

  Her mouth drops slightly. “Those details were never public! I'm not sure why you'd take any interest in what happened months ago, either, unless of course you were –“

  “Keeping tabs? Of course I did, doll. I never forgot you.” I stop, knowing I've said too much and it's coming out wrong. “Always figured the day would come when I'd need to make good on that favor. I had to know where to find you. Now, come on.”

  I want to get this over with, and I'm done sparing minutes for chit-chat.

  Nothing good will come from too much talk, too much honesty. She can't find out how much dust she's kicking up in every corner of my soul that should stay abandoned.

  I want to keep this professional. As much as this fake fiancé thing can be without invisible strings tangling us up like spiderwebs. There's a billion of those and counting thanks to the past.

  Still, I don't give up easy. I know what I need to do.

  No emotions, no sex, and no second guesses.

  Two out of three, I'm failing miserably. It has to stop. And doll absolutely, positively can't find out how much strain she's putting on the careful walls I've built.

  Because if they ever crumble, our protection is gone. There's no telling what happens then.

  V: Over the Pit (Maddie)

  The elder Randolph is a shell of a man, slow to sit up when we find our way into his room. It's disconcerting for such a fine room to smell so strongly of heavy medications and decay. I expected this, true, everything except the hateful energy in his eyes.

  “What is it today?” Cal's father grunts after we take our seats.

  I put on my best smile, trying hard to keep the girlfriend act up for this critical moment.

  “Dad, how are you today?” Cal practically beams.

  “Dying, the same as yesterday,” the old man snaps. “Who's she?”

  Cal turns to me with a soft smile on his face. There's a clear tension behind it, a cruel apology that says, I'm sorry we have to sit through this shit.

  “Madeline Middleton,” I say, reaching for his frail hand, without skipping a beat. “Soon to be Mrs. Calvin Randolph.”

  His grip is firmer than I imagined. He squeezes hard, like he's testing to make sure I'm really here, and it's not some ghastly trick of his mind. “She doesn't look like an escort, at least. I'll give you that.”

  “My fiancée is not a damned escort, dad. Please, just give her a chance. I wanted you two to meet before the end.” Cal sounds angrier than he should.

  Almost like he's eager to defend my honor, but I really know it's about the trust, the severe risk this charade could fall apart here and now.

  I release the old man's hand and replace it with Cal's. His fingers lace through mine, pinching so much harder than his father. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back. I don't know why it brings me instant goosebumps everywhere.

  “We met in Beijing, Mr. Randolph. It happened like it was always meant to be. I've loved your son ever since,” I chirp, smiling so hard it hurts. It certainly isn't easy with the constant scowl on his thin, pale lips. “It's an honor to meet you. Really. I've heard so much. Everything about how you raised him, and took the firm to heights nobody ever imagined.”

  “You heard lies, girl, no different than what you're feeding me.” He sits up straighter, closing his eyes for a couple seconds. My heart jumps into my throat, pounding much faster, before he looks at me again with extra disdain dripping from his eyes. They're eerily identical baby blues to Cal's. “I remember who you are. I still have a pulse and my memory, despite this withering flesh. I read the police reports.”

  I turn my head, giving Cal a panicked look, pretending I'm not ready to jump out of my skin. Jesus. Now, what?

  “Sometimes I think you're more forgetful than I am on my IV cocktail, boy.” He looks at Cal and sneers. “Did you really think you had a chance? Bringing this one here, thinking I'd magically forgotten the years our lives went to hell in a hand basket? Did you think I wouldn't remember her, you little idiot?”

  “Had to do something to test your faculties, dad,” Cal spits the last word like it's rotten fruit. “Of course, we didn't meet in China. We stayed in touch all these years, and reconnected a few months ago.”

  “Typical. I'm glad you showed me how much bunk your desperate cries about how much you've changed are, Calvin. You're a terrible liar. You always were. It's a small miracle you've gotten anywhere at RET at all, rather than collecting your accolades off the name I built with your grandfather.”

  The two men stare, saying nothing, contempt in their eyes.

  Hello, disaster. I sit for a second in the frigid silence, head spinning, wracking my brain for some unreachable combination of words that will salvage this.

  “I knew you wouldn't approve,” Cal says quietly, moving his chair an inch closer to his father's bedside. “That's why I brought Maddie here anyway. I wanted you to see I'm building my life with the woman I love, the way I want, whether you leave me a fucking penny or not.”

  “You're marrying your stupid little crush who brought us to the brink of ruin,” Mr. Randolph barks, giving me a furious look. “No more of this. You've come here with her to rub it in my face. Leave now, or I'll call the nurse and end this sickening joke myself.”

  “Mr. Randolph, please!” I stand up, flustered. His hand stops, halfway to the red button for the intercom on his nightstand. “We were wrong to make up stories. It was my idea, and I'm sorry. I thought it'd go down easier that way. I was wrong. Truth is, Cal's about to make me the happiest woman in the world. I could care less about the fortune you two are playing tug-of-war with. As long as he's mine, I'm richer than I ever imagined. I'll just miss the fact that we could never win your approval.”

  I don't know what comes over me, but it's making me shake. I plop back down in my seat before my own mouth runs me over, clueless why I'm so emotional. It's a bad situation, yes, probably the end of this whole stupid thing if he's already convinced Cal deserves squat. But it shouldn't be like this, cold ink running in my blood, vicious tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

  “She's telling the truth, old man,” Cal says coldly. “This isn't a game. It's honesty. We fell in love because we learned how to deal with our pain, something you never did. Who the hell do you think kept my spirits up that year I spent in prison? And then when I couldn't find a job, couldn't find my way, couldn't find anything? Wasn't you, or even mom. Not after John. You never gave me a second chance, even when my brother begged you.”

  Hearing his dead son's name makes the old man blink. “Don't you dare drag him into his. Watch your greedy, forked tongue.”

  “Greedy? Oh, you ought to know a thing or two about it, dad. You earned the best money of your life after the funeral, when you stuffed yourself away in your booze and women, while mom cried herself to sleep alone. Maybe her heart wouldn't have given out if you'd been around to help mend it.


  “Like you'd know, Cal,” the old man says. “Spare me the high and mighty scorn from the good son who wasn't. If you ever gave a damn about this family, you'd have never broken her heart in the first place, before losing John killed what was left.”

  I cover my mouth to hold in the gasp trying to slip out. When the elder Randolph turns to me, it's brutal. Cal sits quietly, bowed up like he wants more than anything to resolve this with more than words. Too bad force isn't an option.

  “Watch out for him, girl. I don't know what you see, but don't let it blind you. He's a screw up, a liar, and a hideous excuse for a backup son.” He cranes his head, slowly rolling over, punching the call button on his intercom. Our signal to leave.

  Thank God. I'm too stunned by the train wreck that's just happened to contemplate where we go from here.

  But before Cal can grab the door, I hear his father's voice one more time, a hoarse whisper from the sheets. “If it could've been you, instead of John, we'd all be better off. I wish sometimes it was the Taliban who missed, and not that sick bastard's son.”

  His reference to the worst of the past feels like a bullet slicing through my chest.

  Oh, God. I look to my fiancé, searching for the shot to the heart I expect to see written all over his face.

  There's nothing. Just a cold, blank tension he wears from the time he slams the door shut behind us, leads me through the mansion by the wrist, and climbs into the car without one word.

  “I'm sorry, Cal. I didn't know what to do. Nothing could've prepared me for that.” Well, maybe if he'd given me a heads up about what a dying sourpuss his father really is, it would've been better than flying blind. But I can't blame him for the disaster.

  “Forget it. You tried.” The wind sweeps through his short dark hair, casting a rugged edge to his chiseled good looks.

  We're standing on the upper deck of the ferry as it churns toward it's Seattle terminal, putting the island and its secret money behind us. What do I even say to numb the hurt? It seems like it's so pointless now. If we can't convince his father, he's out of luck.

 

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