Gallant sucked in a long breath. “I owe you an apology.”
Aubrey swiveled. “An apology? For?”
He flashed a rueful smile. “For high school. I know I hit on you way too much. And I was a complete jerk about it. But it wasn’t because I was trying to carve another notch on my bedpost, I swear. I just had no idea how to tell you how much I liked you.”
Her chest hitched. That sounded... unlikely. “You carved notches on your bedpost with half the girls in school, Gallant.”
“Yeah. I know.” Something flickered in his too-blue eyes. “But there was only one girl I actually wanted. Turns out I should’ve been writing to her instead of screwing around with everything that moved. I just thought... I don’t know. I thought it made me a stud, or something. I thought it would make her like me.”
Aubrey’s breath grew harsh in her ears. She had no idea what to make of that. “Gallant, I—”
“It’s fine. I’m not asking for anything, except forgiveness. Unless maybe you’d consider letting me take you to dinner sometime.”
She gave him a level look.
“Okay, I guess Iamasking for something.” He grinned, again with those bright white teeth. “But I don’t have any expectations.”
She hesitated, but the earnestness of his smile softened something inside her. Hehadchanged, it seemed, and she of all people could appreciate the value of second chances, considering all she wanted was one for herself.
Not to mention she’d probably need weeks to work her way back into her ex-boss’s good graces. A distraction might help.Dating Gallant probably wouldn’t lead to anything, but if it did, it wasn’t like he would ask her to stay. He was headed to New York, same as her. “I guess we could give it a shot.”
“No pressure,” he said. “We’d just be two old friends, catching up and seeing what happens.”
She weighed that. “Okay.”
His smile widened. “Saturday, then? There’s this great little seafood place that opened up last year. I could pick you up at seven?”
“Sure.”
He punched her number into his phone. By the time he’d helped her bring her groceries to the kitchen, Aubrey’s ankle felt ready to give out. She smiled gamely and waved to him from the front stoop.
When the Tesla’s taillights faded, she limped back inside and went the frosty living room. Hulking white shapes populated the space—her mother had left sheets draped over everything, apparently.
Aubrey whisked the makeshift slipcover from the couch, grateful for a dust-free surface to lie down on. The thing was a long, low chesterfield, its blue velvet worn to a well-loved shine. It offered all the comfort she remembered, and she huddled into the cushions, hunting for warmth.
God, she was tired. Cold, too, but building a fire would require more energy than she had. Maybe she’d just lie here, gather her strength...
Within seconds, fatigue won out, and Aubrey closed her eyes.
When the dreams came, they dragged her down into memory.
4.
Seventeen years ago
Aubrey hated English class.
She always sat at the back, as far from Mrs. Hayes’s attentive eyes as possible, and passed the time with a book of logic puzzles she kept tucked on her lap. Why waste time studying a language she’d grasped at the age of three, anyway?
She crossed out a box on her puzzle chart, the classroom melting to a blur of light and chatter. She never tired of the mathematics behind the deduction work, how the puzzle’s facts layered in her mind like crystal lattice. Not to mention the incomparable sense of completion at the end, that jewel boxclickwhen the last tick mark found its place.
Up front, Mrs. Hayes started droning. Probably aboutWuthering Heights, which Aubrey had skimmed the CliffsNotes for. Since her cheerleading uniform did little to hide her contraband puzzles, she fluffed up the pillowy parka she’d donned to ward off the January chill. Let Mrs. Hayes think she was cold. At this point, Aubrey was only marking time until graduation, anyway. Four months. Exactly five thousand, five hundred andeighty more minutes of English class. Then, at summer’s end, she’d be bound for New York. She’d already applied to NYU early decision and gotten her acceptance letter.
Life was waiting.Mathwas waiting.
“...new student today. Let’s make him welcome.”
Okay, so maybe they weren’t being tortured with books just yet. Aubrey lifted her head just as a stranger slid into the empty desk beside hers.
