Chapter 21
Nate
Imeant to tell Rory the truth before things got this far. Now it feels like coming clean is just going to ruin everything. And I’ve worked too hard to lose her now.
I push a hand through my hair as I try to focus on the report on the desk in front of me, but Rory consumes my thoughts.
“How are things with your girl?” Lawton asks from across the room, pulling my attention away from my paperwork.
To be fair, it’s not like I was all that focused to begin with.
He leans back in his chair. I wish my desk were closer to his. He spends half the day with only two of the chair legs on the ground. It would be too easy to give him a little shove and watch him go tumbling, like teachers used to do back in high school when we’d sit like that in our chairs.
“Things with Rory are good,” I say.
They’re better than good, honestly. They’re fucking amazing.
“Yeah?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Any details you want to share with the class? Some of us are in an epic dry spell over here.”
There are zero details of my relationship with Rory I want to share with anyone.
Since that night—the pizza night, we’ve been calling it—we’ve slept together every night.
Often making love, but sometimes just going to sleep curled together.
And while I’ve fantasized about this since she left me ten years ago, not a single one of my fantasies holds a candle to this reality.
“No,” I say bluntly.
Lawton sighs dramatically. “Dude, I haven’t gotten laid since Kristina left. You know how hard it is to find a girlfriend around here?”
“You say that like I haven’t lived here since I was a kid.” He’s not wrong, though. When you’re in a town this size, the options are limited, mostly to women you’ve known since they were in your kindergarten class, eating paste.
He shrugs. “True, but have you actually been looking for a girlfriend since you came back to join the force? Seems like you’ve just been pining for Rory this whole time.”
I’ve had my share of one-night stands and hookups, of course. I haven’t been celibate, but there hasn’t been anything resembling a relationship since that one that ended so poorly.
Plus, with Rory, I’m terrified she’ll leave again.
In response to Lawton’s question, I just shrug, hoping he’ll give it up.
“Seriously, though,” Lawton says, his face sobering. “Are things going well? You’re happy?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “I’m fucking ecstatic, man. This is what I’ve wanted for so long.”
I lift my coffee mug to my lips and take a sip, making a face at the lukewarm brew.
Conrad walks into the room, tossing a tennis ball up in the air and catching it as he makes his way toward us. “Hey, guys. Anything going on?”
I seize the opportunity to move the conversation away from my relationship. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about me and Rory. It’s all I want to talk about and think about. But there’s still a very real possibility that this will end, and I need to protect myself.
I hold my mug up to Conrad. “Can you make more coffee? This one is cold, and what’s in the pot is just…terrible.”
“Hey, I made that,” Lawton says, pretending to look offended, even though he’s usually the first to admit that he’s shit at making coffee.
“Exactly. Conrad, can you make another batch? And maybe teach Lawton to make coffee that you don’t have to chew.”
Conrad stares at me. “I can,” he says, then looks over his shoulder as he calls out to our secretary. “Hey, Gladys? Can you make us more coffee?”
Lawton rolls his eyes, still chuckling. His inability to make a decent cup of coffee is almost as legendary around here as Conrad’s allergy to doing any actual work. “Good luck nailing down a girlfriend with that attitude.”
Gladys shuffles into the workroom, ignoring us all as she puts a new filter in the coffeepot and adds the grounds.
“Thanks, G,” Lawton says with a grin. “Saved us once again.”
She grunts, which is about the only acknowledgement she ever gives us. On the phone, or to people walking into the station, she’s as sweet as pie, but she saves that for everyone else. But underneath her gruff exterior, she likes taking care of us. She’s like a mother hen.
Conrad grins and catches the ball again. “Hey, who’s nailing anyone down? I’m just enjoying life.”
Ollie eyes the ball but makes no move to chase it. He’s wearing his vest, like he does anytime we’re working, and he’s laser focused on the commands I give him when he’s in work mode.
“Just wait, man,” I say, standing from my desk and leaning back, hands on my hips as I stretch before I carry my mug over to the coffeepot. “You meet the right girl, you’ll be a changed man.”
Conrad scoffs and sits at his desk while I dump out my old coffee and wait for the new pot to brew.
Lawton squints at something on the computer screen, then he looks up at me. “Back to Nate, though. You seem happy.”
I pour myself a hot cup as the pot refills and take a sip.
So much better, and I decide to give him a little more.
“I am. It’s just…easy with Rory. You know?
I don’t know if it’s that we have the history and we’re just picking up where we left off, or if we’re like soulmates or whatever, but it’s just simple.
I don’t have to stress about whether I’m doing or saying the right thing. It just works.”
Lawton scratches his chin. “You know, it was never like that with Kristina. I loved her, or at least I thought I did. I wouldn’t have picked up and moved us across the country if I didn’t think we were forever. But when I look back, I was always stressed, worried about upsetting her or something.”
“So why did you stay with her so long?” Conrad misses the tennis ball, which bounces on the floor twice before he snags it.
Ollie looks at the ball and at me but doesn’t move. I pat his head as I sit down with my steaming mug.
“Because, man,” Lawton says, an edge of pain in his voice.
“When you care about someone, you do everything you can to make it work out. Maybe she wasn’t the right one in the end, but I don’t regret anything.
I tried my best to make her happy and give us a chance at happily ever after. Sometimes it’s just not right.”
“He’s right,” I add. “You’ll see, someday. Once you meet the right girl.”
“Mrs. Alpert wants someone out there again,” Gladys calls from the front desk. “Who’s up?”
I take a final sip and leave the mug on the desk. “We’ll take it. Ollie, you ready to go?”
Mrs. Alpert loves Ollie, so when I’m the one who responds to her calls about people in her bushes or whatever she’s dreamed up to get some company, she’s extra delighted. I sit at her kitchen table as she pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me before pulling a dog biscuit out of the cupboard.
“You know, Nathan, I’m glad to see you,” she says, tossing Ollie his treat.
Ollie waits patiently, staring at the biscuit on the floor in front of him.
“Release, Ollie,” I say, giving him permission to go for it. “Thanks, Mrs. Alpert. We’re always happy to see you, too.”
She sits opposite me. Wrinkles line her face, but her pale-blue eyes are as sharp as ever. “I went to Marge’s yesterday.”
Ah. This is an inquisition.
“She has great sandwiches.”
Mrs. A waves a hand, dismissing all talk of food. “She has good gossip is what she has.”
“Mmm?” I bring the mug to my lips. “You know, your coffee rivals hers. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”
“Oh, you know I will. But I hear you and that lovely girl you dated in high school are starting things up again. Is she moving back to town? Marge says she’s been in there several times, reconnecting with that lovely Stacey Hiller girl.
You know, she’s single, too. Do you think any of the boys at the station would be interested in taking her out? ”
I chuckle. “Maybe Lawton. I’m pretty sure Jake and Conrad don’t stand a chance with her.”
Mrs. Alpert taps a gnarled finger on the edge of her mug. “Hmm.”
“What would you have done if one of those boys showed up instead of me?” I tease her.
She cracks a smile. “Asked them for gossip. And asked about you because you’re the talk of the town right now.”
This is the last thing I wanted, honestly. Rory knows exactly how the rumor mill works around here, and she’ll know if people are talking.
And there’s always a chance she’ll get spooked and take off down to Denver, just like she did back in high school.
I’ve always wondered if the gossip about how I bought her a promise ring factored into her decision to break up.
In fact, for years I thought it was the only reason.
Even though she’s told me about the conversation she overheard her parents having, I still wonder if the gossip played a small part.
Mrs. Alpert sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know, it’s tough being an old lady.”
Here it comes.
“I have to rely on Marge and on visits from you nice boys to keep me up to date on the town goings-on. Back when I was teaching, I knew everything. Kids have big mouths, and they always think their teachers aren’t listening or that we can’t see what you’re doing right under our noses.
Remember when you had to go to the bathroom at the same time a few days a week, leaving my classroom at exactly 10:45?
It’s like you thought I’d never find out that Rory was coincidentally headed to the girl’s room from Mr. Vickers’s class at the exact same time. ”
I laugh out loud. “We thought we were being so sneaky.”
We pulled that move a few times a week for years.
“Yeah, we all knew your tricks. And all those student council things you needed to do so you had to leave Mrs. Oscar’s class?
You were never on student council, child.
Rory was, but we all knew you cut class to spend time together.
It’s a wonder either of you passed your classes.
” Mrs. Alpert leans forward and sips at her mug of coffee, so heavy with cream that it’s a light tan shade.
“It probably didn’t help that we went to Marge’s most of those days,” I muse. “We really weren’t the smartest, huh?”
“No, but you weren’t the dumbest. Not by far. Forty years of teaching will show you lots of things.”
“Well, we appreciate you teachers. You certainly taught us enough to get to where we are today.” I drain the last of the coffee from my mug.
“You two are headed to the reunion tonight, aren’t you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes slightly.
I stand from the table and carry my mug to the sink, where I wash it out with the lemon dish soap she keeps on the counter. “We are. Any advice?”
Her gaze follows me as I dry the mug with one of the floral towels and stack it back in the cupboard where it belongs. I’ve spent so much time socializing with Mrs. A as part of my police duties that this is starting to feel like a second home.
“Look out for Yvonne Parrish and her cronies. They weren’t nice people in high school, and I don’t think growing up has had any effect on their maturity. You remember them? Yvonne, Kaitlyn, Rachel. That whole crew.”
“I remember them,” I say.
That’s about the nicest thing I can come up with. The three of them were the stereotypical mean girls of Lonesome Pine High School. I’m pretty sure everyone in our class remembers them, and very few remember them fondly.
“Yvonne and Kaitlyn still live in town. I’ve seen them around here and there.” Unfortunately. Yvonne, at least, has made her interest in me clear over the years, even hitting on me while she was still married.
My rejections have not dissuaded either of them. It’s getting exhausting, and if it weren’t for Rory, I would have considered skipping this reunion altogether.
“Well, have fun tonight. Tell everyone I said hi. I’m not going to this one, but I’ll be at next year’s, if you know anyone from that class. They were my last class of seniors before I retired.”
I take her empty mug and wash it in the sink. “Who could believe it’s been ten years since you retired, Mrs. A? You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”
She cackles. “Have fun tonight.”
Ollie jumps into the cruiser when I hold the door open for him, and I muse while we drive back to the station.
Tonight could be amazing—dinner, dancing, all that romantic stuff—but there’s always the chance that being in the high school gym and seeing all our old classmates will bring Rory right back to the same mindset she had when she decided we weren’t meant to be.
I tighten my fingers on the steering wheel.
“I’m not going to let that happen, Ollie,” I say, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “No way in hell.”