11. Mary
Eleven
Mary
I should be thinking about the fundraiser.
I absolutely should.
The gym project is hanging by a thread.
The permits still aren't moving.
The donor situation is a mess.
And Sister Agnes practically cornered me after Bingo tonight with a notebook, three ideas, and enough determination to conquer a small country.
“Saint Patrick's Day Gala,” she'd declared.
As if saying the words out loud made the event real.
Maybe it does.
Because before I left tonight, I'd already texted half a dozen people.
Including Aella Ramirez.
Including Clementine Callahan.
And both women had immediately agreed to help.
Of course, they did.
The Ramirez children attend Our Lady of Grace.
So do the Callahan kids.
Both families are related to the Volkov and Fury families—yes, them.
We’re talking big money and connections.
Heck, I’m pretty sure Sigma International Security is owned by one or both of them.
Anyway, the point is that the school matters to them.
It matters to all of us.
And with families like theirs behind the fundraiser, maybe we actually stand a chance.
Maybe.
The problem is... I'm not thinking about any of that.
Not right now.
Not with Kai sitting six inches away from me.
The truck rumbles softly beneath us as he drives.
One hand is steady on the wheel.
The other is resting casually on the center console.
Streetlights flash through the windshield, painting shadows across his face.
God.
He's handsome.
Unfairly handsome.
Out of my league handsome.
The kind of handsome that should come with a warning label.
His jaw is covered in dark stubble.
His shoulders stretch the fabric of his shirt.
And every now and then he glances over at me.
Like he's checking to make sure I'm still here.
Like maybe he can't quite believe it either.
My stomach flutters.
Again.
It's been doing that a lot lately.
But only around him.
“Kai.”
“Yeah?”
The deep rumble of his voice sends another ridiculous little shiver through me.
I blame hormones.
Or Catholic guilt.
Possibly both.
“Thank you.”
His eyes leave the road briefly.
“For what?”
“For tonight.”
He smiles.
Slowly.
The sight of it should honestly be illegal.
“You had fun.”
It's not a question.
I roll my eyes.
“A little.”
“A little?”
“Fine.”
His grin widens.
“Fine?”
I laugh despite myself.
“It was fun.”
“There she is.”
“What?”
“The smile.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks.
“You're impossible.”
“That's what everybody says.”
The truck stops at a red light.
He turns toward me fully.
And suddenly the air changes.
Not much.
Just enough.
Enough that I stop breathing properly.
Enough that my pulse picks up.
Enough that I become painfully aware of how close he is.
“You know what I think?” he asks.
I shouldn't ask.
I really shouldn't.
But I do anyway.
“What?”
His eyes soften.
And whatever teasing remark I expected never comes.
“I think you've been carrying too much.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Because they're true.
The school.
My mother.
The fundraiser.
The permits.
The teachers.
The students.
All of it.
I've been carrying all of it.
Alone.
For a while now.
The light changes.
The truck starts moving again.
But neither of us says anything for a moment.
My chest feels strangely tight.
Because nobody notices stuff like that.
Nobody notices when you're the dependable one.
The responsible one.
The one everyone counts on.
Nobody except apparently Kai.
And that's dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I look out the window.
Trying to get myself together.
Trying not to think about the fact that his truck feels comfortable.
Trying not to think about the way he smiles at me.
Trying not to think about what happens after he drops me off.
Trying not to think about whether letting him drive me home is opening a door I might not be able to close.
The problem?
I don't think I want to close it.
Not anymore.
Not when being with him feels this easy.
Not when talking to him feels natural.
Not when he makes me laugh.
Not when he looks at me like I'm the most important person in the room.
The realization settles quietly inside my chest.
Terrifying.
Wonderful.
Hopeful.
I turn back toward him.
And find him already looking at me.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
Like he's caught me thinking.
Which, unfortunately, he probably has.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
His grin widens.
“Maybe.”
I shake my head.
Laughing.
And as the truck carries us through the quiet Verona streets toward home, I realize something.
For the first time in a very long time, I'm excited to find out what happens next.
And by some wild miracle... I think maybe Kai is too.