“We hid it. Even Quinn never knew. He was a good man in many ways, but not open-minded.”
“Did you ever see her again after school?” I ask softly.
“Once a year until she died,” she whispers. “One year ago.” My chest tightens. This town has so many secrets.
“We made it work in our own way,” she adds with a small smile. “Even though I’m sitting here drinking brandy and looking sad, I’m mostly just grateful I had that love.”
I swallow. I think back to Xaden’s words.You, me, what we had. Nothing could ever come close.
“It would’ve been nice to meet her,” I say. “Was she good at algebra?”
“Worse than you,” she says, and I laugh, surprised.
She gives me a knowing look. “You and Xaden will get there.”
“I’m not so sure,” I admit, voice cracking. But God, I still want him. Every part of me aches to close the distance, to let him back in, to stop pretending I can live without what we had.
If it were only me, I think I would. IknowI would. I’d take the risk, consequences be damned. But it’s not just me anymore. And every time I look at Xaden, I feel both the safety I once clung to and the shadows he can’t seem to outrun. How can I let myself reach for him when I don’t know if it’s love or danger I’d be pulling into my son’s life?
Mrs. Kirkland pats my knee. Her touch is steady, her voice sure. “I am,” she says. “As certain as Pythagoras’ Theorem.”
XADEN
Keller suggested I spend the day re-centering. He made it sound like I should pack a yoga mat and punch ‘hippie retreat’ into GPS.
Just because I lost my cool with JJ.According to Keller this is a clusterfuckon so many levels he would take me off the case if he had a choice.
Instead, he punished me with such a menial task my eyes are bleeding and I’m in a desperate need of a decent cup of coffee. The stuff I drink at Frankie’s is mostly mud.
Also, I’m trying to walk off the memory of Cole moaning into my mouth, fists clutching my shirt, and the perfect way his body met mine when I pressed him against his kitchen wall.
Focus on the word trying. Trying and failing.
On a whim, I step into Baywood Beans. This was always Cole’s spot, not mine. I’ve never been the one to hang out in coffee shops. Didn’t have that kind of money or even time to throw around. I know the owners, though, everybody does around here. The Bloom sisters swear by the healing powers of Sudoku and are always trying to convert you into their gang of number puzzles.
Every head turns my way when I walk to the counter and tip the brim of my baseball cap.
Earl panics and stabs himself with a cake fork, eliciting an ear-splitting yelp. “Oh the agony!” he howls.
Ann-Sabrina Fenton bounces toward me like an overexcited cocker spaniel, red curls cascading, arms wide and ready to hug some Baywood cheer into me.
Maybe I could learn to like Frankie’s coffee after all.
“Xaden!” Ann-Sabrina gushes. “I’ve been meaning to come over, but Frankie’s garage is so intimidating. Did you know it’s probably haunted?”
Before I have a chance to reply, she giggles like a ghost just tickled her. “Everyone is talking about you! You’ve got the main character energy through the roof, swoosh!”
“I don’t know what that means, but thanks, I guess. How’ve you been?” I ask, trying politely but firmly to pry her hands off me to get that coffee I came here for.
When I try to pay, Dorothy shakes her head, smiling.“On the house. It’s good to see you, Xaden,” she says, sounding sincere. Apparently Mrs. Kirkland was right when she said not everyone has forgotten me.
“Is it really?” Earl asks hotly, shoving his hand to my face. “I’m bleeding to death!”
“Yes, that’s almost a drop of blood you have there,” I say dryly, turning back to Dorothy so that I can thank her properly. I try to leave after that but Ann-Sabrina drags me into her table.
“Oh Xaden,” she says, and that’s not a promising start. She leans closer. “You look like a three-chili book.”
“A what?”
