33
Trent
“You know,” Clay says as we make our way round the festival, “if you’re gonna eye-fuck your girl, I’d advise not doing it in front of her brother. Especially when he doesn’t know you two are together.”
I shoot him a look, but he’s grinning like the smug bastard he is.
I had every intention of just stopping by to show support—nothing more. I didn’t want to draw attention to us. But the minute Aubrey’s eyes found mine, it was like everything else faded out. She has that effect on me. Always has.
Keeping us a secret is starting to wear on me, I’m not gonna lie. But it’s what she wants right now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. Especially after being the reason she wasn’t, for so long.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, deadpan.
Clay snorts. “Uh-huh. Sure, you don’t. I’m honestly shocked Kade hasn’t figured it out yet, you know?”
“How would he figure it out?” I ask, keeping my tone even.
“Because neither of you are subtle,” he fires back. “It’s the look you give each other—kinda sickening, if I’m being honest.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, man.”
“I’m not jealous,” he says, a little too defensively. “If anything, I’m concerned. You two seriously think you can keep it secret much longer?”
I shrug. “That’s not my call. As long as Aubrey wants to keep it on the down low, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Clay shakes his head, smirking. “You’re whipped, dude.”
“Yeah,” I admit quietly, more to myself than to him. “Guess I am.”
“I’m just saying,” he goes on, “if you’re not careful, Kade’s gonna figure it out on his own—and things will get a whole lot messier if that happens.”
I open my mouth to answer, because he’s one hundred percent right. If it were up to me, Kade would already know. But before I can say anything, something catches my eye and pulls all my focus.
I blink, squinting. “No fucking way.”
“What?” Clay spins his head round, scanning the crowd like he’s expecting a fight to break out.
Then he sees what I see. His jaw drops, and the words come out in a low, shocked breath. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. That’s your mom. That’s your mom—and Mr. Edwards.”
Sure enough, my mom’s walking toward us, her arm linked with my old high school teacher like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Clay stares, wide-eyed. “Is your mom dating him?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I mutter, still watching them. “This is the first time I’ve seen them together.”
As the words leave my mouth, my mom’s eyes lift and meet mine. I see the realization hit her—the oh, shit moment where she knows she’s been caught—but instead of pulling away from him, she tightens her grip on Mr. Edwards’ arm.
She smiles, all calm and composed, like nothing about this is even a little weird, and stops right in front of me and Clay.
My gaze bounces between the two of them, my brain scrambling for something to say that isn’t ‘what the actual hell’.
“Trent, you remember David?” my mom says, her tone light, almost too casual.
“Hi, Trent,” he says, lifting his free hand to shake mine.
“Yeah,” I say, clasping his hand. “Yeah, I remember.”
His attention shifts to Clay, and he reaches out again. “Clay, good to see you both.”
Clay shakes his hand, his voice polite but cautious. “Hi, Mr. Edwards.”
Mr. Edwards chuckles, the sound easy and familiar. “I think it’s safe to call me David now, Clay. It’s been a few years since you sat in my classroom.”
Clay nods, a sheepish grin tugging at his mouth as he scratches the back of his neck—looking exactly like the kid who used to get caught whispering in class.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my mom is standing here, in the middle of the harvest festival, with her arm looped through my former teacher’s.
The smell of kettle corn and grilled corn dogs hangs in the air, and the buzz of chatter and music only makes the whole thing feel more surreal.
Mr. Edwards—David—glances between us, clearly picking up on the awkward energy. “We were just about to grab something to eat,” he says, nodding toward the row of food trucks nearby.
I glance in the direction and look back at them, still a little stunned by what I’m seeing.
It’s not that I’m against my mom dating. It’s just that I’ve never known her to date at all.
When she finally left my dad, all she ever did was focus on me until I was old enough to look after myself. So that fact that she has found someone to spend time with that isn’t Cora Jenkins shocks me a little.
Mom’s smile doesn’t waver. If anything, it grows warmer, like she’s trying to smooth over the tension. “We’ll let you boys get back to it,” she says, giving my arm a quick squeeze. “But we should catch up soon, honey. Maybe dinner next week?”
“Sure,” I say automatically, still blinking like I’m trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“Good,” she says with a nod, then glances at David. “Come on, let’s go find those apple fritters before they sell out.”
He laughs softly, guiding her through the crowd, their joined arms swinging naturally between them.
I stand there for a second, watching them disappear into the crowd of families and vendors and hay bales.
Clay finally exhales a low whistle beside me. “Well… that was something.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “Tell me about it.”
He bumps my shoulder with his. “So, your mom’s dating Mr. Edwards. Never saw that one coming.”
“Neither did I.”