Chapter 18
PRESENT
DARREN
Usually, I always have an inkling when Sasha’s going to appear out of nowhere to ream my ass out for something, but I’m so off-kilter today that she managed to take me by surprise.
Her voice is cruel as she snaps at me, uncaring about the volume of her voice. The only privacy I could find close to the dunk tanks was behind the back of the burger stand. It’s sure as shit not far enough away to muffle her words.
“And when did we agree to that? I’ve said it a million times. You need to keep your sister and her friends in check.”
The heat radiating from the grills beside us blasts into my side as I try to keep a relaxed posture in front of my ex-wife. “I’m sorry if Abbie heard about it, but that wasn’t my intention. It wasn’t Poppy’s or Bryce’s either.”
My ex-wife uses both of her hands to pull her red hair behind her shoulder and tightens her glare. “What a coincidence.”
“Drop the attitude, Sasha. If you want to ream me out over a misunderstanding, then maybe you can do it later when we’re in a more private setting. ”
“And give you a chance to avoid the conversation? Not happening. We’ll get to the bottom of it right here, right now.”
Dread poisons the tip of the knife in my side. It’s a miracle I managed to convince Sasha to take our conversation away from the dunk tanks at all. A pissed Sasha doesn’t care where we are or who’s around. She’ll let her feelings fly for all to see and hear, consequences be damned.
I’d be more understanding of that right now if I didn’t think her argument was ridiculous.
She was looking for something to be mad at me for these last few weeks, and she’s finally got one.
That’s all this is. Bringing this up in front of my friends at an event supposed to be for families doesn’t sit well with me.
“I don’t have plans to take her away from Cherry Peak anytime soon. Not for one day or a month. Poppy only mentioned a trip to BC as a spitballed idea for some time in the future. I’m sorry that Abbie heard her and took it as something it wasn’t.”
It was nothing more than a random thought dropped into a conversation the last time Abbie and I were over at my sister’s house for dinner. It happened over a month ago, and this is the first I’m hearing of it.
“And on this hypothetical trip, would Delaney be joining you?” Sasha asks, her voice sly but expression bursting with anger.
I grow stiff, mind starting to run wild. “Why would you ask that?”
“I’m not an idiot! I’ve heard all about Ms. Delaney, our daughter’s new teacher .”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why she would be coming on a trip with my family,” I say slowly, taking too much care forming each word.
Fuck my life. I’m an idiot for not realizing this is why she came here today. It had nothing to do with a theoretical trip and all to do with my ex-girlfriend. Maybe I should be more surprised that it took her this long to approach me about her being Abbie’s new teacher.
It wouldn’t surprise me if she were waiting for a moment like this, though. This is a perfect opportunity to make me look bad in public.
Sasha shakes her head, sneering, “Don’t treat me like I’m being dramatic. I saw you interacting earlier!”
Glancing behind her, I wince at the same people who have been lingering close to the burger truck for a while now, pretending like they have no interest in the conversation but not moving on. My spine steels as discomfort grows thick in my muscles.
“This isn’t the place for this conversation, Sasha,” I say, dropping my voice.
“Yes it is! At least you have nowhere to hide right now. I need an answer, Darren. Are you seeing her again?”
“No.”
“No? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
“No, I’m not. And if I were, I wouldn’t be going to you for permission.”
She sucks in a breath, eyes flaming. “Yes, you will. You’re not a teenager anymore. Abbie is involved now.”
“Don’t talk down to me. I’m more than aware that Abbie’s involved.” I heave a breath and swipe a hand over my head. “I’m not having this conversation here. Where’s Abbie?”
“She’s with Brad at the market. I figured I would keep her away from us while we talked. Discussions about her father and schoolteacher aren’t good for her to hear,” Sasha snaps.
I scowl, losing my patience quicker than I can recoup it. “You know that I’m still on the fence about him being alone with her.”
Sasha lifts both of her brows, lips firming. “Well, it looks like we’re both making missteps, then.”
“Sasha,” I warn.
“Yes? What’s wrong, Darren? ”
“You clearly came here to get a rise out of me, and I’m not dealing with it. Please go back to Abbie and respect that I don’t trust your fiancé to be the sole caretaker of our daughter yet. I’m trying to get there.”
“Okay, and what about me?”
“What about you?”
“Am I not allowed to have doubts about who’s watching Abbie as well?”
I blink slowly. “I’m the only one watching her when she’s with me, other than my parents or sister. Don’t tell me you have a problem with my family now. I’ve never once put up a stink about yours.”
“They’re only watching her outside of school.”
“Spit it out, Sasha,” I demand, exhausted.
“Do you really expect me to allow your ex-girlfriend to watch our daughter at school without either one of us there but be sympathetic to you not wanting my soon-to-be husband watching her on his own?”
There isn’t a word for how dumbfounded I am by that. My expression exposes my thoughts, encouraging a frustrated scoff from Sasha.
“Are you really trying to compare my not wanting Abbie alone with Brad because I don’t know him enough to trust him yet to her being in a classroom with her . . . schoolteacher?”
She grips her waist and juts her chin, eyes cruel. It’s the same stance she had the day I watched Delaney walk away from me for the last time, my heart torn to shreds and bleeding. My breath grows thready at the reminder.
“Yes. I am.”
All at once, I’m hit with memories and emotions that I’ve been ignoring for so long. My shoulders threaten to curve forward beneath the weight that slams atop them.
Swallowing, I turn away from her and glance at the sky. I’m still half-naked with my trunks dripping water down my thighs and pooling beneath my feet. The chill helps keep me from feeling like I’m going to ignite into flames, even as my cheeks thump with heat.
I turn at the waist the moment Bryce’s voice reaches us. “It seems we missed the invitation for this little rendezvous.”
Sasha’s immediate reaction to my best friend’s appearance is to fake a smile that Bryce doesn’t buy. The smile is gone in a flash. She stares at the woman standing slightly behind Bryce and huffs a breath.
“Unbelievable.”
Delaney’s gaze is soft and almost apologetic when I let Sasha’s comment go and look at her. Embarrassment plows through me at the realization that she quite possibly heard some of Sasha’s and my conversation. The one centred around her.
“We were just about done, actually,” Sasha says.
Bryce’s voice is ice-cold. “Yeah, I’d hope so.”
“We’ll talk later, Darren.”
I nod, the ball in my throat too big for me to speak.
The downward twitch of Delaney’s lips draws my attention. I zero in on her frown, hating that it’s there because of me. I’d take any other expression after this long of being away from her besides that one.
Dropping my stare, I step around Sasha and leave.
The last thing I want to do is make things more awkward, and with the ache behind my ribs, I know there isn’t any point in me sticking around.
If I do, I’ll wind up saying something I shouldn’t.
There won’t be any hope of getting so much as a moment of time with Delaney to try and convince her to give me another shot if I make a fool of myself.
She’s seen me do that too many times in the past already.
I move quickly through the crowds and pop out on the opposite side of the street. The water squishes between the soles of my feet and my slip-on sandals as I keep my pace steady and slip through the gap between the station and Beautifully Bold. Suddenly, it’s quiet, nobody wandering this way.
My inhale is deep, but nowhere near as soothing as I hoped .
With my back to the street, the only tell that I’m not alone anymore is the slight scuffing of feet on pavement. I tense, sensing who it is before she speaks.
“Are you okay?”
I drop my head and laugh, letting the rough noise of disbelief carry through the silence. “I figured if anyone would follow me, it would be Bryce.”
“She tried to. I . . . I figured she could cover for you with Caleb instead.”
“You didn’t want to talk to him? Eliza’s with him. I’m sure she’d love to talk with you.”
“It didn’t really have anything to do with Caleb.”
“Oh.”
Swiping a hand over my mouth, I risk turning around. Glittering green eyes nearly knock me to my knees, especially this close up. The gold flecks are there, bright and demanding. Like they’re jealous of the green to the point they’re trying to outshine it.
Delaney fidgets with a loose string on the sleeve of her purple sweater, her lips rolling before she says, “I never meant to cause any issues between you and Sasha. Daisy was supposed to be Abbie’s teacher this year, and I was only told the week before school started that she’d be in my class.
But I promise you that I’m not treating her any differently than her classmates because of our history. She’s taken care of.”
“I know,” I reassure her quickly, not liking that she’s second-guessing that. “I had no doubt. Abbie likes you.”
She nods once, glancing away in what looks like an attempt to hide a wince. “Okay. Good.”
“I’m sorry that I called you Elle again.”
Her brow jolts upward. “That’s a first.”
“A first what?”
“You’ve never apologized for that before. It’s weird.”
“I mean, I can continue using it, then,” I offer loosely.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. ”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m not going to apologize for dunking you,” she says, her stubbornness peeking through.
I fight off a smile. “I would hope not. I deserved it.”
“You deserve quite a few dunks.”
“I’ll have Caleb close off my line and give you unlimited shots.”
The freckles across her nose are starting to lighten the way they always do in the fall. Fuck, she’s gotten more beautiful as the years have gone on. How is that possible? Am I going to drop dead at the sight of her in another ten years?
I suck in a long, deep breath and flex my fingers at my sides, unable to stand still this close to her.
She watches my every move, and I almost puff my chest when her gaze snags on my exposed abdomen, glossing over slightly.
It feels damn good to know that I’m not alone in the attraction that I feel for her.
Sure, I’m not the same guy I was when we were together, but I think I look better. Not as scrawny. Beefier, I guess.
I’m proud of my dad bod.
“That’s not necessary,” she mumbles.
“Have dinner with me tonight instead, then.”
Suddenly, she flicks her wide eyes up to meet mine. “What?”
“Dinner, Delaney. The kind where you eat,” I tease gently, testing her reaction.
She doesn’t immediately shut me down, although she doesn’t look all that interested either.
“It’s Saturday.”
“Do Saturdays not work for you?”
“It’s Peakside night,” she says, like that’s an obvious reason for doubt.
“Are you . . . going to Peakside tonight?”
Her expression twists. “No. No, I mean, aren’t you? It’s Saturday .”
Okay, either she really thinks I can’t survive without one Saturday night with my friends, or she wants to reject me but doesn’t know which approach to take.
“I can miss one. I’d rather have dinner with you,” I state.
“Darren,” she says on a sigh, her eyes darting to stare off behind me.
“It’s just dinner. We can spend it planning a fundraiser of our own. One better than dunk tanks,” I suggest, acting on impulse.
“We don’t have to plan anything on our own to begin with.”
“But don’t you want to? I want to have had something to do with the drive-in being rebuilt that isn’t getting my ass wet. This is our chance,” I push, taking a few steps toward her.
She watches my feet. “It’s more than your ass that’s gotten wet.”
“That’s exactly why we need to do something better. Just meet me for an hour. Let me buy you something to eat while we run through some ideas.”
I’m close to getting on my knees at this point.
Should I be ashamed of that? Who cares. I’d beg for a million hour-long dinners with her if it meant I could be near her again, hearing her talk about anything.
If I have to organize something to make that happen, then I’m happy to do that. I’ll make the time.
I can tell I’m close to convincing her. She’s stopped pulling that loose string in her sleeve and is now twisting it around her finger, ready to snap it off. There’s a tongue indent in her cheek as she thinks, eyes still wandering.
“You’re not going to buy me dinner.”
My confidence deflates like a leaky balloon. Have I really grown so out of tune with her body language?
“I’ll buy my own. And you have one hour,” she adds, discarding her sleeve.
I let loose an exhale. “Deal.”
“I’m not promising that I’ll end up helping with your fundraiser either.”
“That’s fine. ”
“Then okay. We’ll have dinner.”
And there’s my opening.
It’s the chance I’ve been needing for a year now, and there’s no fucking chance I’m going to screw it up.