I clear my throat. “I’m done.” I shut my computer down without facing my cute teacher, begging my red cheeks to calm down before I have to look at him.
“I can take you home.”
“I was going to catch the bus.”
“Nah, it’s late, and there are too many creeps out there. I’ll drop you off.”
“Okay, thank you, Mr. Arkett.” Nerves tingle across the back of my neck as I smile shyly at him, and they only intensify when he smiles back.
“Call me, Landon, after school hours. Remember?”
Chapter Twenty
Hayes
Right. Right. Left under cut, right jab. Left hook.Each punch drives through the punching bag until the exertion radiates through my muscles, from my arms to my shoulders, back, and stomach.
I put the weight of my body into every jab, begging for exhaustion so it will distract me from my thoughts.
She’s back to treating me like a ghost, but I can’t pretend we’re strangers. I can’t erase everything that’s happened between us. I can’t forget the way her arms felt wrapped around my waist.
I can’t stop thinking about the way she smells. The twinkle in her eye when she smiles. The lithe body in those damn bikinis.
Beautiful, beautiful, Olive.
And the diamond ring on her finger. Because she’ll never be mine in the way that I want her to be.
She went to visit her fiancé this weekend, and all I can imagine is his hands on her. His mouth touching all the places that I’ve dreamed about.
The bastard won’t ever understand how lucky he is to bechosen. He will never cherish her the way she deserves. She’s Olive-fucking-Greenwood.
My fists slam into the bag again, pummeling the leather until I’m gasping for breath, letting strangled grunts of frustration tumble out of my throat.
It’s not enough.
My leg whips out, and my shin connects, once, twice. Jab, Jab. Left kick.
He’s probably peeling her clothes off now.
Right, right, left. Right kick.
Dragging his lips across her delicate collarbone.
“AHH!” Roundhouse right kick.
I collapse to my knees, staring up at the rafters of the garage. She’s going to leave. Once she’s married and done with the Porter case, she’ll move back home to her condo with herhusband.
I finally got her back, and I’m supposed to say goodbye?
I should. I should let her move on and live her life the way I always wanted her to. It’s not her fault that I never actually wanted to let her go.
My phone starts ringing atop my workbench, and the vibration has it nearly falling off the table top by the time I reach it.Olive.
Doesn’t matter where she goes. Whenever she needs me, I’ll be there.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” her voice cracks. It’s nearly 10 pm, and she should be withElliot. Such a stupid name.
