Then I’d lost her. She better not have left Benton.
If she was in Colorado, that had to be a good thing, right? My heart was beating out of my chest, pushing me to move faster, but there were people everywhere.
“Cal!” Maria appeared at my side with a redheaded boy in tow.
“Hi.” For her, I stopped. Actually, it was for the boy. “Hey, you were sitting next to Nellie. Do you know where she went?”
“Wait.” Maria’s eyes bugged out. “That blond lady was Nellie? Like the Nellie from your speech?”
“Yeah. Where’d she go?”
“Oh, uh, she left.” The boy—Franklin, according to his name tag—pointed to the door.
Fuck. “Got your phone handy?” I asked Maria.
She nodded, digging it out of the pocket in her dress.
I rattled off my phone number, waiting until she’d keyed it in. “Call me. Text me. Whatever. But keep in touch.”
“Okay.” She beamed. She was the opposite of Nellie in appearance with her dark eyes and hair, but like I’d stated at the podium, they shared a spirit. And this kid was going places.
“I gotta go.” I patted her on the shoulder, then brushed past them, darting toward the row of windows. The center aisle was blocked and the only way I’d catch Nellie was if I could avoid being stopped every three steps.
I was able to avoid the masses but then got stopped by the bottleneck at the door. My feet inched forward until finally, I was able to slide past a couple and break free into the hallway.
My polished shoes clicked on the tile as I lengthened my strides, breaking into a jog. I didn’t have to run far before I spotted a head of blond hair.
Nellie leaned against a locker in the hallway, her shoulder resting on the gray metal while her arms were crossed.
Waiting.
I slapped a hand to my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I slowed. Then I sidestepped a couple walking arm in arm, moving toward the opposite side of the hall.
Nellie’s gaze raked me from head to toe when I stopped at her side. “Looking sharp tonight, Stark.”
“You’re beautiful.” So stunning it hurt.
That dress should be criminal, and if she’d let me, I’d happily strip it away. I’d bury my hands in her hair and myself in her body to show her just how fucking glad I was to see her tonight.
“What are you doing here, sugar?”
“Taking a walk down memory lane.” She pushed off the locker, her fingertips gliding over the numbered plaque. “Feels a little bit like returning to the scene of a crime.”
Number 197. Her locker from freshman year.
“I saw you first,” I blurted.
“Huh?”
“Freshman year orientation. I saw you first. Before you saw me. You were right here, turning the combination into the lock and it wasn’t working.”
“The office wrote it down wrong.”
I inched closer as a stream of people passed us for the exit. “You were wearing jeans and this rainbow tie-dyed T-shirt.”
“I think I remember that shirt.” She cringed. “The girls always bitched about the uniforms, but I never minded.”
I stepped closer, towering over her, and tugged at a strand of her hair as I stared into those green eyes. “I wanted you before you wanted me.”
“God, you are competitive. Setting the record straight that you win?”
“Fuck yeah.” I grinned. “What are you really doing here, Nell?”
“I’m—” Before she could finish her sentence, a figure appeared at our side.
“Cal. A word.” My father’s nostrils flared. “Privately.”
“Busy right now.” I reached for Nellie’s hand, threading our fingers together. It was the first time I’d ever taken her hand in public. But if I had my way, it wouldn’t be the last.
Dad dropped his gaze to our interlocked hands just as my mother joined the conversation.
“Colter, this is not the time or place for”—she spotted Nellie and how closely we stood together—“oh. Hello.”
“Hi, Mrs. Stark.” Though this had to be uncomfortable for Nellie, I loved her more for the warm smile she gave my mother.
“Mom, this is Nellie. Nellie, my mother, Regina.”
“So lovely to meet you, Nellie.” The hope in Mom’s eyes as she held out a hand was a gut punch.
The first woman I’d introduced to her would be the last if Nellie broke my heart. Or if she didn’t.
Nellie untangled her fingers from mine to greet my mother. “Nice to see you again.”
“Oh, we’ve met?” Mom studied Nellie’s face, trying to place her but came up short. “I’m so terribly sorry. I must have forgotten.”
Dad’s lip curled. “Remember that gardener I fired because his daughter was stealing and stalking Cal? This is that daughter.”
Nellie stiffened.
Mom drew her hand back, which pissed me right the fuck off. We’d be having words about that later.
“About that stealing and stalking.” I stood taller as I faced him. “It was all bullshit. Dad, you kept gawking at Nellie like she was your next meal, so I lied to keep you away from a fourteen-year-old girl. Sorry, not sorry.”
Dad’s face turned to granite as Nellie snorted a laugh.
A woman walking by gave him an assessing look, leaning in to whisper to her companion.
Mom’s mouth pursed in a thin line as she did her best to blank her expression. Maybe the reason I hid my feelings was because I’d learned it from watching her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dad adjusted his bow tie. “We need to talk about that stunt you just pulled.”
“No, we don’t. You can put up, or shut up. Next time, don’t volunteer me to give a speech.”
“You committed money that wasn’t yours to promise.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. If you can’t cover it, I’ll pay it for you.”
“I can afford it,” he gritted out.
“Great.” I leaned past him to pull Mom into a quick, sideways hug. “You look lovely tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
We’d have things to discuss. But exactly what, depended on Nellie.
“Thank you for coming.” Mom’s smile was strained with the obvious tension cloaking our huddle, but her manners were impeccable as always. “A pleasure seeing you again, Nellie.”
“Have a good night.”
The words were barely out of Nellie’s mouth before I clasped her hand in mine and dragged her down the hallway.
The people ahead of us all turned to leave through the main foyer, but I glanced over my shoulder, making sure there wasn’t a staff member close, then pulled Nellie straight. We passed another bank of lockers heading toward a corner that would take us to the senior wing.
Our strides ate up the hallways, our shoes clapping against the tile floor as we breezed through the school.
A glass case cramped with trophies sat outside the double doors to the gym. I’d helped win Benton a handful of those awards. We passed the library and a row of classrooms, places where I hadn’t treated Nellie the way she’d deserved to be treated.
“I don’t like being here,” I said.