Dangerous or safe or both? Whatever Audrey was, she’d officially burrowed under his skin.
…
Audrey’s Fridays always felt like three days rolled into one. She started work at eight, opening Kisspresso and making sure the townsfolk were well caffeinated, and finished shift number one around three p.m. Then it was onto shift number two at Game of Stones to manage the store from three thirty until the store closed at eight. By the time she fixed up the register, balanced the books, and dusted, it would be after eight thirty. Staring down the barrel of such a long day was exhausting, even when she was only three hours in.
“One extra-shot latte and two caramel iced coffees coming up,” Audrey said.
She swiped her hands down the front of her apron, wincing at the mark on her wrist. A soft bruise was blossoming under her skin, and she tugged down the sleeves on the white long-sleeved T-shirt she’d worn under her uniform polo shirt despite it being hot enough to walk around without any sleeves at all.
She lost herself in the meditative process of making the orders, hands drifting from portafilter to milk jug to ice scoop. Last night had been a strange, mixed bag of things. Having time alone with Ronan—well, if you didn’t count Deanna passed out in the backseat—had made her feel almost like a normal twenty-something woman on a night out.
It had been so long since she’d gone on a date, she’d almost forgotten how delightful that fluttery feeling was.
Except it wasn’t a date.
And the fluttery feeling had been lost the second she’d set foot in her house. Audrey shook the negative thoughts off, stopping herself before she got dragged down. There was no time for bad feelings today; she had customers to serve and two shifts to get through.
“One large Americano, no room,” said the young woman behind the cash register as she scribbled on the takeout cup and slid it along the bench to Audrey. “Two cappuccinos, one with an extra shot.”
Audrey’s head snapped up at the familiar order. She’d been so in the zone, she hadn’t even noticed Nicole walk into the café. “Hey girl.”
“Hey yourself.” Nicole waved as she handed her company credit card over to the cashier. Today she had on a fitted black pencil skirt and a silky blouse in rich red. It was a far cry from her weekend attire of leggings, hoodies, and messy buns. “I was hoping you’d be in. The boss prefers it when you’re behind the coffee machine.”
Nicole walked over and propped herself on one of the stools that hugged the far side of Kisspresso’s main counter so they could chat while Audrey worked.
“You almost missed me. I was finishing up these orders before my morning break,” Audrey said.
“Good, you can walk me back to the office.” Nicole grinned. “How was the game last night? So bummed I had to miss it.”
“The new first baseman is great.” She hit the portafilter against the knock box and dislodged the used puck of coffee grounds. “Deanna was very excited to see him in the flesh.”
Nicole snorted. “Lovelorn already, and she’s only fourteen.”
“Tell me about it. She’s ninety-nine percent hormones right now.” Audrey put up the orders and called them out. “How’s work going?”
“I’ve thought about murder approximately five times this morning.” She cocked her head. “Which is down from my lifetime average, so I guess that’s good.”
“You’ve got to get out of there. The place is going to crush you.” Audrey paused to look her friend in the eye so Nicole knew she meant business.
“And what am I going to do, huh? Get a retail job and earn half of what I’m earning now, and probably still end up being miserable.” Nicole smoothed a hand over her dark hair, which she’d pulled back into a simple twist. It showed off the tiny gold hoops in her ears. “At least now I can afford my own place, which halves my murderous thoughts every day because I don’t have to live with my mother.”
“What about your dreams?”
Nicole shot her a look. “The ones you said were pointless?”
“I didn’t say they were pointless.” Audrey placed the Americano and two cappuccinos into a little reusable holder that Nicole always brought with her. “Come on. Let’s walk.”
Audrey undid her apron and called out to her colleague that she was going on her break. After hanging her apron up and grabbing her phone, she followed Nicole outside. Kisspresso was just off Main Street, along the road that housed the college’s main entrance. It was leafy and pretty, and today the warm air ruffled the branches of the trees overhead.
“I remember what you called them,” Nicole said. She carried the tray in one hand, and her shiny nude pumps clicked against the pavement. “Self-indulgent. I’d argue that’s worse than pointless.”
“Only because women are trained to think their purpose in life is to serve others,” Audrey said, knowing full well that she upheld that stereotype. “But I was more talking about the rest of it. The Hallmark stuff. Husband, the house, white picket fence.”
“So it’s fine to dream about a career change but not a family?” Nicole raised a brow. “Although I understand why you think that way.”
“I guess I’ve seen the dark side of families more than most. The bits they cut out of those movies. My family life would be film on the cutting-room floor.” She shrugged. “And I’m okay with that—not everybody gets to have the happily ever after. But…”
“Wanting is dangerous.”
“Yeah. I find it easier to do what’s necessary, and that way I have a purpose, which makes me happy. I’m not chasing some grand thing that may or may not be real. Instead, I’m chasing something that’s actually possible. Something tangible.”
They walked down Main Street toward Nicole’s office building. There were fewer trees here, and the sun beat down relentlessly, bouncing off the shiny shop-front windows and making Audrey squint. Sweat beaded along her hairline, and she swiped at it with the back of her hand.
“Why on earth are you wearing a long-sleeve top under your uniform?” Nicole asked as they walked. “It’s hot as dog balls out here.”
Audrey faked a laugh. “And how do you know dog balls are hot, huh? Got some weird fetish I don’t know about?”
“Ew.” Nicole screwed up her nose. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“You were the one who started talking about animal genitalia. Actually, did you know there’s a guy who became a millionaire by selling fake dog testicles made out of silicone?”
“I’m sorry I said anything.” Nicole rolled her eyes. She looked like she was about to say goodbye, since they were now paused in front of her workplace, but at the last minute, her eyes narrowed. “You only do that when you’re hiding something.”
Audrey stiffened. “What? I share facts all the time.”
“Not facts about balls, though.”
“Ah, you’d prefer something more to the point, so to speak. I have a fact about elephant penises—”
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Pull your sleeves up.”
Audrey’s stomach sank, but she wasn’t going to get into this now. Better to go on the defensive. “You’re being ridiculous, and I am not a child. I have to get back to work—”
“Did he hit you?”
The question socked Audrey right in the chest. She knew what people thought of her father—that he was a drunk. That he was violent. That he hit his kids. Only part of that was true. Yes, her Dad had been in a lot of bar fights, and he was rough. And yeah, he drank too much. But he didn’t hit his children.
“No,” she said through gritted teeth.
Nicole bit down on her lip, her eyes shimmering with worry. “Please talk to me, Audrey. We’ve always promised we wouldn’t do secrets. Especially not when one of us was hurting.”
“I’m not hurting.” The words came automatically. Beca
use people who let themselves hurt sometimes couldn’t get back up again, and Audrey always got back up after life dealt her a blow. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
An open question, dammit. Nicole was right—they had made a promise. A pact, in fact. They’d linked pinkie fingers and sworn they would protect each other. Them against the world.
“Big Red broke down after the game last night,” Audrey said with a sigh. “I ended up getting a lift home from my professor.”
Nicole raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“He’s young enough that he doesn’t look like a professor, and Dad saw him out the window and thought I’d been on a date and that I’d used Deanna as cover.”
“What’s wrong with you being on a date, exactly?”
“I had stuff to do around the house, or I could have taken an extra shift instead.” She knew it didn’t sound reasonable. “My priority is to take care of my family, not go on dates.”
“Your words or his?” Nicole’s jaw ticked.
“Don’t.” She shook her head.
“So why the long sleeves?”
“I tried to walk away from him while he was still talking.” Yelling. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“So what? He grabbed you?” Now her nostrils were flaring. That was not a good sign.
“I shouldn’t have walked away. It was disrespectful.” The line of red around her wrist wasn’t so bad. It would fade in a few days. “He doesn’t hit us.”
“I don’t know why you keep defending him, Audrey. I really don’t.” Nicole swallowed, and her eyes looked glossy, like she was holding back tears. “If you keep moving the line of what you’ll put up with, he’ll keep pushing until you’re accepting things you should not accept. I worry you’re already there.”
“I don’t expect anyone to understand.”
They didn’t remember her father like she did. They didn’t remember the man who slow danced with her mother in the kitchen of their trailer when it was just the three of them, before the other kids were born. They didn’t remember the man who turned up with flowers and a roguish smile, who left love notes taped to the refrigerator. They didn’t remember the man who cried when his last daughter was born, when he lost his wife.
Those broken howls would haunt Audrey forever.
That man still existed. He had to.
“I’m fine,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on Nicole’s arm. “It was a one-off incident, and I provoked him. I know he’s not perfect, but he doesn’t get physical with us.”
Usually.
She could tell her friend wasn’t appeased, but Audrey really did have to get back to work.
“You know you can always come and stay with me. You and the kids.” Nicole’s dark eyes bore into her. “All of you.”
“In your one-bedroom apartment?” Audrey shook her head. “And where are we going to sleep, huh?”
“I’ll have every one of you in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.”
“Do you trust me?” Audrey asked. After a moment, Nicole nodded. “Then I’m telling you I’m fine. Everything will be okay; it was just a bad night. Now, I really have to get back.”
“Call me tonight.”
“I promise.”
Audrey headed back in the direction of Kisspresso Café, all her “normal girl” feelings well and truly dead. Knowing she’d have class with Ronan again next Wednesday was keeping her going, however.
Around him, she could be normal, if only for a moment.
Chapter Ten
By the time Wednesday rolled around, Ronan had found himself fully entrenched in life in Kissing Creek. He’d been here a little over two weeks and already had a “usual” at the Kisspresso Café: an extra-large Americano, no milk, and a berry muffin. Raspberry, blueberry, blackberry—it didn’t matter. He liked that hit of fruity sweet with a strong-enough-to-punch-you-in-the-face coffee. He’d also returned to the secondhand bookstore to scour for Agatha Christie novels without a demonic llama hovering over him. Mr. Hart was a kind old gentleman and had promised to bring in a copy of The Clocks from his personal collection.
To his surprise, Kissing Creek felt like home. Or at least, as he kept telling himself, home until he decided what to do next. Part of him still felt as though he should be chasing the prestigious Ivy League tenured professor dream, but there was a smaller part of him that wondered what it might be like to stay in a small town like this.
The highlight of his week, of course, was his Wednesday night Brain-Changing Positivity class.
“One of the things I want you to take notice of this week in your journaling is the impact of positive and negative messages on your mood. Now, you might not think you’re so exposed to these messages, but digital-marketing experts estimate that the average American is exposed to between four and ten thousand messages a day.” Ronan swept his gaze across the room, heart full at the sight of so few empty seats. “If you’re an avid social-media user, then you’re likely at the higher end of that. Add in the conversations we have with friends and family, memes, TV shows, movies, video games, we’re exposed to—and absorb—so many more messages than we realize.”
Ronan let his eyes linger on Audrey for a moment, the top of her blond head forward as she scribbled in her notebook. Unlike a lot of the other students, who took notes on laptops and tablets, she was old-school. She used one of those four-color pens to neatly map out her notes in a simple spiral-bound notebook. There was something charming about it. And about the way the tip of her tongue edged out of her mouth as she wrote.
“I want you to keep your journals with you all week, and every time you notice a message that impacts your mood, make a note of it. Also make note of whether you’re seeing more positive or negative messages. As you all know, our brains are finely tuned relevancy engines, and we automatically filter out much of what we see. Some of us might be more wired to expect—and therefore notice—the negative. Next week, we’ll be talking about how you can actively change the way you see the world. On that note, I’ll leave you to your evenings. Don’t forget there’s a short personal essay due next week, and my office hours are available in your student portal if you need to come and speak with me. Thank you, everyone.”
The sound of bags rustling and laughter and chatter filled the room as the students started packing up to head home. Ronan sat on the edge of his desk, waiting for everyone to file out. Naturally, as they had the past two weeks, his eyes drifted to Audrey. He could always spot her in the crowd, no matter how full the classroom was. Today she wore her hair in a long braid, and it hung over one shoulder. She had on a simple white T-shirt, a pink cardigan, sneakers, and a pair of jeans with a rip at one thigh. That little flash of skin, framed by frayed denim, had taunted him all class.
As if she’d detected his attention, her gaze suddenly rose and met his, cutting all the way through the movement of people eager to get home. Ronan swallowed. He’d been thinking about her since the baseball game last Thursday night, about how vulnerable she’d been and yet how tough. He’d thought about her simple home and how her shame was palpable, even though she had nothing to be ashamed of.
Over the weekend, he’d looked into the scholarships. Sure enough, without a completed high school diploma, there was no way she could apply for any at Harrison Beech College. He’d contemplated seeing if there was anyone he could talk to. Maybe they might make an exception for her. Audrey’s thirst for knowledge was a professor’s dream. And she deserved to study if that’s what she wanted to do.
It’s none of your business.
Audrey took her time packing up her things, lingering while the rest of the students filed out. Soon she was the last one remaining, and she slid her bag up on one shoulder.
“Have you got a question about the assignment?” Ronan asked, pushing off the desk and wa
lking toward the neat rows of chairs.
“No.” She shook her head. “Although I’m a little worried that I might not have much to journal as far as the messages go. I don’t use social media, and I spend my whole day working. I can’t remember the last time I watched TV.”
“I think you’ll be surprised what you see, once you start paying attention,” he said. “Even if you’re getting messages from café customers instead of Facebook ads. Besides, I imagine your aunt’s store is full of messages.”
“That’s a good point.” She nodded. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t trying.”
“I doubt anyone could ever accuse you of that,” he said. “Your investment in your own learning is admirable.”
She toyed with the strap on her bag. “I’m enjoying this class. It’s giving me a lot to think about.”
“If you’re interested, there’s an event going on later this week that’s kind of a ‘meeting of the minds’ between professors and students. The new Dean has asked all the attending faculty to bring a student guest so they can mingle and share their thoughts on the university and curriculum and things like that.”
“And you want me to be your guest?” She sounded shocked.
“I do.”
He hadn’t planned on asking Audrey, actually. Not because he didn’t want to spend time with her—far from it. But he’d been worried about the optics of a young male professor bringing a female student along, especially if it was clear to anyone they had chemistry. But maybe if more of the faculty got to know Audrey, they might consider giving her flexible options for further study. It could help her situation and, in his mind, that made it worth the risk.
“I would love to, but I’m working at my aunt’s shop on Friday.” Her face fell.
“No chance she’d give you the afternoon off?”
“I could ask,” she said with a nod. “Or maybe I could finish early? I’ll ask her.”
“I’ll leave it up to you, but the offer is there.”
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