Overachiever (Slumming It Book 2)

by S. M. Shade

  “Are you ready to go home?” Colin asks. He’s here as a volunteer for the grant too, but he lives nearby.

  “And leave all this?” I reply, waving my hand toward the ground where Trevor is bitching loudly about something.

  “I’m having a party this weekend if you want to stay a few extra days.”

  I’m sure the offer would be tempting to most. Who wants to leave the sun and ocean to return to southern Indiana, the land of corn? There’s not a trace of me that considers it. “Thanks, but I need to get back.”

  Meyer walks around the corner and looks up at us. “Get your lazy asses down here!”

  “That man loves me,” Colin quips as we start toward the ladder.

  “He’s fighting back tears he’ll miss us so much,” I agree.

  The rest of the volunteers and all of the company employees are gathered behind the house. A long table has been set up, and a huge cake takes up half of it. “Just a little goodbye celebration for the volunteers,” Meyer announces. “I hope everyone has learned a thing or two.”

  I can’t help myself. “I learned Trevor doesn’t wipe because touching a man’s ass is gay.”

  Trevor flips me off over the laughter, and Meyer shakes his head, taking the top off of the cake box.

  I’m not the only one distracted today. The whole volunteer crew has been all over the place, goofing off, laughing, and talking with everyone. I’m sure the company will be glad to see the end of us. Even Trevor has been in a good mood instead of his usual obnoxious tough guy act.

  In retrospect, I should’ve known there was a reason. After the cake has been demolished, it’s clear work is over for the day. Everyone stands around talking, and I text Graham to come pick me up since I lent him my truck for the day.

  Colin pokes me when we see Trevor and Meyer walk over to the front loader tractor parked on the edge of the lot. After some gesturing, Meyer jumps and grabs the edge of the raised bucket, then does a few pull ups. Not to be outdone, Trevor copies him. After Trevor drops back to the ground, he glances back and sees us laughing at them.

  “What are you staring at? You couldn’t do even one with your weak ass little arms,” he taunts.

  I should’ve ignored him. I’m not one to be baited into things, but when Colin looks at me and shrugs, we both head over to prove him wrong.

  “Side by side,” I mumble as we approach.

  He grins at me. “Try to keep up.”

  If I’d taken one second to look back, I would’ve seen the phones pointed toward us, and realized this was a set-up, no doubt in retaliation for tricking him into grabbing a dirty dildo. But no. Colin and I walk under the bucket, stand beside one another, look up and get a face full—hell, a body full—of cold, muddy water.

  Laughter roars around us while we both spit and sputter, and I wipe my eyes to see Meyer grinning at us from behind the controls. The bucket that had held gallons of nasty water is hanging above us, the last few drips raining down.

  Colin’s hair is pasted to his head. Random leaves and guck cling to him. One look at each other, and we both join the laughter. Trevor stands nearby, holding his stomach, braying like a donkey.

  “It’s so nice of you to give us such a send off!” I announce, starting toward him. “Give me a hug!” Trevor backs away, then starts running when I speed up. “Come back and let me love you!”

  It’s probably a good thing a branch jumped in my way, and I didn’t catch him because he might’ve punched me, but the ground isn’t much more forgiving when I crash into it. The cacophony around me sounds like an asylum until one voice pierces through. “Owen?”

  “Graham, hey.” I stare up at him from my place on the ground, covered in mud and soaking wet, with a scratch up my arm from the branch. “Just finishing up work. They couldn’t do without me, you know?”

  “Clearly.”

  The ride back to the motel isn’t fun. Riding in the truck bed seemed like the best idea to keep from getting grunge on my seat, but damn, the metal is hot. I feel like a jumping bean trying not to touch the surfaces until we pull into the lot where I can hop out.

  We have the room for one more night, but I’m eager to get home so we plan to nap then leave in the middle of the night. Most of my things are already packed, and Graham packs up his stuff while I shower, change, and hope I don’t end up with some fungal infection from whatever was in that water. Last thing I want to do is show up to Remee’s looking like I have radiation poisoning.

  After a few hours of sleep, we stop for a late dinner, then I take the first shift driving. The plan is to drive straight through and be home by tomorrow evening. Graham and I have had fun—as much fun as I could have while also stressing over a certain stubborn ass woman—and though I resented my friends deciding I needed a babysitter when Remee left, I’m glad he stayed.

  Graham is the responsible, serious one of the group, and as much as I hate the thought, he and Remee are probably more alike than Remee and me. Maybe he can help me get into her way of thinking . Give me an idea of what to say to convince her to give us a chance.

  When we stop to switch drivers and grab some coffee, I shoot a text to Remee.

  Me: On our way back. Graham drives like an old lady.

  Remee: Be careful

  “Women are impossible,” I sigh, tossing my phone aside.

  “Women, or one woman in particular?” Graham asks, steering us back onto the highway.

  “She’s driving me crazy. We had so much fun when she was here, and then as soon as things got serious, she ran like her ass was on fire.”

  “Did she give you a reason?”

  “The old ‘it’s not you it’s me excuse’, but I think it may actually be true. I’ve never seen Remee get serious with anyone, and it was like she panicked once I mentioned a relationship. But, man, we were already together. Already exclusive, even if we said we were just fucking. It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  Graham is silent for a moment before responding. “If it wouldn’t have changed anything, why did you ask for a relationship?”

  His question gives me pause, and there’s only one real answer. “Because I want to know she’s mine. That we aren’t temporary. Because I’m in love with her.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  The night streaks by outside the window, and I focus on it, a blur of lights and darkness. I didn’t. I told her I could love her if given the chance, but that’s not the same, or the truth. “I don’t think it’d change anything. I don’t think it’s what she wants to hear. All she cares about is sticking to her life plan. She’s convinced having a boyfriend will get in the way of her goals. I told her I understand her ambition, and I’d never get in the way of that, but…” My thought is finished with a shrug.

  Graham glances over at me. “Remee thinks everything through, weighs her options and tries to make good decisions. You can’t negotiate her into wanting you. She may not change her mind, but if you haven’t told her you love her, have you really given her a reason to?”

  “You think I should tell her I’m in love with her?”

  “That, or let her go. You may have to be prepared to let her go anyway, if that’s what she chooses.” The corner of his mouth tucks in. “I’ve been there. It sucks, but that’s how it is sometimes.”

  Graham rarely talks about his past relationship, but I know he was with his high school sweetheart for years, and found out days after proposing that she was cheating on him with his stepbrother.

  Silence fills the car for a long stretch while my tired mind churns. She doesn’t want a relationship. Would knowing I’m in love with her change that? There’s only one way to get an answer to that question.

  “I’m going to tell her as soon as we get back.”

  Graham drives for most of the night while I doze in and out, then I take over in the morning so he can rest. Big flappy moths move into my ribcage the closer to home we get, and I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say to her so many times, I’m half crazy w
ith it.

  By the time we exit the highway in our town, and I drop Graham off at our apartment, I’ve decided not to call or text first. The things I need to say have to be in person.

  A curse falls out of my mouth when I turn onto Violent Circle, and see Remee’s car isn’t there. Hopefully, she just went out to grab some food or something.

  Serena opens the door when I knock, and the expression on her face doesn’t promise good news. “She’s not here,” she says before I can ask.

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?” I follow her into the living room, and Zara gives me a wave from the couch.

  “I’m not sure. A few days, I think.”

  Stunned, I step back. “What?”

  “She went to visit her mom in Illinois.”

  “I texted her I was on my way back.” With a sigh, I run my hand over my cheek. “Which is why she left, right?”

  “You don’t know that,” Zara offers.

  “She left the day I came back. She’s avoiding me.” Disappointment rakes over me. I knew she wasn’t going to make this simple, but I didn’t expect her to run…again. I need to tell her I love her, and I don’t want to wait another few days. My next move is easy.

  Serena looks up from her phone when I blurt out, “I love her.”

  Serena smiles ear to ear, and Zara looks at me like an injured puppy. “We aren’t the ones you should be telling,” Zara points out.

  “Where does her mother live?”

  Serena’s eyebrows leap up and she crosses her arms, staring at me. “You want me to give you her mother’s address so you can stalk her into the next state to profess your love like a character out of a creepy, disturbing romance movie?”

  Not the way I’d have put it. “Yes.”

  “I just texted it to you.”

  Zara chuckles and mumbles something about drama, but I’m too busy whipping out my phone to see I indeed have a text with an address.

  “Owen,” Serena calls as I turn to go. “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow. It’s a two hour drive and you’ve already been on the road for a long time.”

  “We took turns, and I’m too wired to be tired.”

  After promising to be careful and text them when I arrive in Remee’s hometown, I hop back in my truck.

  My strong willed girl is about to find out I can be just as stubborn.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Remee

  It’s just getting dark when I leave Mom’s house and head straight for Gerald’s Buffet, a large restaurant just west of town. The sign on the door shows me they close in less than an hour. If Rachel isn’t here, I’ll have to come back in the morning. I’ll stake the place out if I have to.

  No stakeout is necessary. The second I step through the door, familiar blue eyes look into mine. Polar opposites in looks as well as personality, we stare at each other. For a moment, I’m afraid she’s going to ignore me.

  “Remee,” she says, her voice cracking, and tackles me with a hug.

  “I looked everywhere for you,” I cry, squeezing her back. Mom expected her to move in with the father of her baby’s family, but it didn’t take long to discover she hadn’t. He wanted no part of a kid. Instead, she joined a program for women dealing with a crisis pregnancy and disappeared.

  “I’m sorry. I had to get away.”

  “Rachel? Everything okay?” An older man wearing an apron sticks his head around the corner.

  “Yeah, can you cover for me for a few minutes?”

  “Sure, grab a break.”

  Rachel leads me through a mostly empty dining area and past the wall length buffet that’s being broken down and cleaned by two young men. We end up in an empty breakroom. “I guess Mom told you I was here?”

  “She did. Rach, I’m sorry for how things happened. I know we never got along very well, but—”

  “It wasn’t your fault. There were so many times I picked up the phone to call you, and I just couldn’t. I left that life behind, and I needed to figure out how to live on my own. Mom kicking me out was a good thing in the end. I don’t want my son raised in that kind of environment.” She shakes her head, and swallows back tears. “Where everyone’s disposable once they screw up.”

  “What’s his name?” I ask, sitting across from her at a small table.

  A smile leaps across her face at the thought of her son. “Colby. Do you want to see a picture?”

  “Of course I do.”

  She taps her phone screen a few times, then hands it to me. “You can swipe. The whole album is him.”

  My heart swells in a way I never thought possible at the sight of a little face grinning at the camera with a front tooth missing. “He’s beautiful. He looks just like—”

  “You,” she exclaims, which wasn’t what I was going to say but isn’t untrue. “Two blond parents, and he has your dark hair, plus that toothy grin you always had when we were little.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He’s a terror,” she laughs. “Not mean or hateful, just the opposite. He’s always happy and excited. Just wild as hell. He knocked that front tooth out trying to jump from the top of the slide to the jungle gym at school. At least it’s a baby tooth.”

  “Who would’ve imagined your kid would be wild,” I tease, swiping through the pictures of him. It’s clear he’s well taken care of and loved. There are pictures of him at a playground, swimming in a pool, and running toward the camera, always with that huge smile on his face.

  “He may look like you, but he’s definitely inherited parts of me.” She chuckles, taking her phone back, then glances up at me. “Would you like to meet him?”

  “I’d love to meet my nephew.”

  Rachel nods and tucks her phone away. “Family is the one thing I haven’t been able to give him, you know? Brian has never wanted anything to do with him, nor has anyone on his father’s side.”

  “Are you back in town for good?”

  “I plan to stay. You’re living in Morganville for school?”

  “Yeah, but that’s only a couple of hours away. I can visit often, if you wanted that.”

  “I do,” she says, squeezing my hand. “I’ve missed you. I want to hear all about your life and how things are going.” She glances at the clock. “But I have to finish up work and get Colby from my neighbor. Do you want to come over tomorrow morning?”

  “I’ve missed you too. I can’t wait to meet Colby.”

  We trade phone numbers, and she texts me her address before I leave her to get her work done. I could’ve stayed with Mom if I’d asked, but since she didn’t offer, and I’d rather not anyway, I rent a room at a local chain motel. It’s nicer by far than where I stayed in Florida, but being in a motel room again reminds me of nights spent curled up in strong arms.

  My heart feels wrung dry, and I gaze at my phone for a long moment. The urge to call and talk to Owen is overwhelming. It wouldn’t be fair. I cut things off. Hell, I left town when he was returning to avoid him.

  Did I make a mistake? Can I have the best of both worlds, a career and love, if I was willing to try? Or am I only thinking that now because I miss him and want it to be true so badly? How do I know what’s the right thing to do?

  It’s a fitful night of thin sleep with these questions churning in my mind, along with the anticipation of meeting my nephew.

  I’m up early the next morning and by the time Rachel texts to invite me over, I’ve already had breakfast, and I’m browsing through a Superstore to find a gift for Colby. Rachel texts back to let me know he loves trucks, dinosaurs, and birds, making the decision much easier.

  Rachel lives in a newly built apartment complex on the west side of town, not far from her job. It looks like a nice place. Clean, with a well kept playground in the center and a walking trail that winds around the property.

  The door whips open a second after I knock, and I’m met with the toothy smile of a very excited four year old. “Are you my aunt? Mama said I got an aunt and she’s coming today. Not like t
he ants on the sidewalk, though. I squish them ants. But not my new aunt.”

  Kneeling down where I can talk to him face to face, I do my best not to laugh. “I’m really glad you don’t want to squish me because I’ve been so excited to meet you.”

  “Colby, you know better than to open that door!” Rachel scolds, entering the room.

  “But it’s my new aunt!”

  “Well, let your Aunt Remee get through the door,” she says, amused.

  “Come in!” he calls, dancing around. The boy is a ball of energy.

  We sit in her neat, cozy living room. Colby plants himself beside me. It’s hard to resist the urge to squish him in a hug, he’s so adorable. “What’s your favorite bird?”

  That’s what’s so awesome about kids. The questions they ask to get to know someone are genius when compared to adults. Seriously, who cares what someone does for a living or where they were born when you could ask them their favorite bird?

  “Hmm, I really like hummingbirds. They’re pretty and fun to watch. But falcons are cool too.”

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to pick just one.” His little shoulders shrug. “I can’t.”

  “Do you like parrots?” I ask, and he nods enthusiastically.

  “Some of them can talk!”

  “Well, I got this parrot that likes to talk back. Maybe you could take care of him.” I pull out the stuffed parrot I bought at Superstore. “It repeats everything you say. Even if you laugh.”

  His eyes light up when I hand the bird to him, and he says, “Really?”

  “Really?” the bird squawks.

  “Oh shit!” Colby exclaims, and the bird promptly repeats it.

  Rachel’s scolding voice falls on deaf ears as he falls off the couch laughing. The bird keeps copying his laugh which just keeps him going.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, covering my mouth, and unsuccessfully trying not to laugh.

  Shaking her head, she bites back a smile. “That’s the new behavior we’re working on. Cursing.” She nudges him with her foot while he lies on the floor, holding the bird. “He knows better.”