Melinda breezes in, red hair twirled up, a tight green dress on. I inhale. Dang. She is pretty. But a little evil.
“Coach Smith? Do you have a moment?” she calls sweetly, ignoring me as she walks up to us.
“Hmm,” comes from him.
“I baked a pie for you. Pecan. I put your name on it in the staff lounge. I remember you said that was your favorite . . .” She gives him a glossy smile and touches his arm. He eases it away.
“Ah. Thank you,” he says tersely, then shoots me a pointed look, as if to say, See?
I lift my shoulders. What does he want me to do about it? If our kiss didn’t work, then I’m out of solutions. I can’t be kissing him every time we see her.
“Why are you here?” she finally asks me, her lashes shielding her gaze as it darts from me to Ronan.
“I’ll be teaching English.”
Her nose flares. “Oh. You’re the fill-in when they couldn’t find anyone else.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile. “I teach English. If you need any help, let me know. I have a master’s in English literature.”
“Of course,” I say. “Thank you for the offer. It’s very kind of you.”
“You’re very welcome,” she says in a syrupy tone, then walks past us.
“Not on my life will I ask her,” I mutter.
Ronan’s lips curl. “But she was so nice. And so were you.”
“Southern girls are born being nice, but they don’t always mean it. Now, if she’d said ‘bless your heart,’ we might have had a tussle. Everyone knows what that means. It’s pity with a dash of condescension.”
“I learn more and more every day,” he murmurs.
“How did the ranch lady from the Roadhouse work out for you?” I ask, reaching for normal before I bring up the job.
“Awesome. We roped some cows. Rode some stallions.”
“Never called her, huh?”
“Nope.”
A bell pings for the class change, and there’s a rush of other faculty in the office and down a breezeway adjacent to us that connects other offices.
My breath hitches when Andrew enters, then walks toward us, his head down, papers in his hands. My eyes eat him up: the short dirty-blond hair, the square chin, the dimple that softens his angular jawline. He’s wearing slacks and a striped dress shirt, his shoulders broad, his build lean and muscled.
His lips quirk up in a familiar way—one he used to do when he was amused—and my chest feels a rush of emotion, most of which I can’t define. My hand reaches out and clutches Ronan’s arm. He covers it with his hand and gives me a squeeze.
“Don’t let him see you sweat,” he whispers.
“Is that another Chinese military strategy?” I swallow thickly, not moving. Not yet. I haven’t laid eyes on him in almost nine years. I skipped our five-and ten-year reunions, and when I registered Sabine for her classes this year, we came early and left immediately. I mean, I knew I’d probably run into him at some point at a school function, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I had other things to focus on.
Someone calls his name, and Andrew glances up, sees me, and stops in his tracks. His mouth opens. “Nova?” Shock colors his voice. He flicks his eyes at Ronan, his brow furrowing, then back at me. “What are you doing here?”
Sure, I’m a confident girl; I’ve supported myself in the city, I made friends, I worked my ass off, and I lived happily. I fell in and out of infatuation several times—a surface feeling, mostly with athletes, those easy-come-easy-go relationships.
But . . .
He’s the reason I hid a small piece of myself from every man. There’s no trust in my heart, and a part of me picked risky relationships on purpose, knowing they’d end the way I expected, and as long as I knew it was coming, then I wouldn’t be devastated. I’m not surprised Zane’s eyes wandered and found a flight attendant. I always knew he wasn’t permanent because I wasn’t permanent. I’ve never loved anyone but Andrew.
He comes closer, rising amazement on his face, and I inch closer to Ronan.
The last time I spoke to Andrew, he’d shown up at my dorm room at NYU, reeking of alcohol, his face haggard. It was a week before his wedding, and he’d gotten on a plane and flown to New York. He came inside and begged me to come back. I’m lost without you. I miss you. I love you. I need you. I made one mistake. Can’t you forgive me? You’re the one I’m supposed to be with. You’re my sunshine. We can’t let them keep us apart . . .