“Neely—”
I hold up a hand. “Like you said the other day, it doesn’t matter.”
“I know,” he says. “It doesn’t. Not really. But I would like to talk it out. Don’t we owe it to ourselves?”
“I owe it to myself to not feel this way anymore.” Running a hand through my hair, I notice the edges are damp from perspiration. “In a couple of days, I’ll be back in New York doing whatever it is I do. You’ll be here playing house or whatever it is you do with Katie and your kid. I mean, if you and she are still talking.” Dropping my hand, I laugh angrily. “Probably not. You probably ruined our relationship for a one-night stand, didn’t you? Good work.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He cuts the distance between us in half.
“I know enough to know there’s no reason to let you take me home. You made your choices and I made mine. Now we have to live with them, and I’m just fine with that.”
He works his bottom lip between his teeth, absorbing my words. One of his hands claps against the back of his neck as he tries to release some of the stress in his shoulders. Finally, he shrugs. “You know what? You’re right. Everything happens for a reason, Neely.”
It takes everything I have not to fire back at him that I had to sacrifice my happily-ever-after because he decided to give some other woman a piece of him that was supposed to be mine. My tongue is heavy with questions. I want to demand he explain what reason is good enough to account for my suffering. But I don’t. That will only give him more power. And it doesn’t matter.
“Everything happens for a reason, huh?” I ask. “I don’t know what caused you to sleep with Katie, but that’s your problem. I won in the end.”
His eyes darken. “Careful.”
“Careful?” I laugh. “I’m not the one with a reckless history, bud. You got a kid by a woman you barely even knew, really. I got my dream job in the city. I’d say the end result was favorable to me.”
He opens his mouth when someone pounds on the door.
“Hey, Dane. You in there?” Matt asks.
Dane doesn’t look away from me. “What do you want?”
“Haley needs you.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I don’t need a ride home, huh?” I shake my head, knowing he’s going to go with her.
He does. He heads to the door but stops short of opening it. Looking at me over his shoulder, he flips me a look of pity. “Glad you got everything you wanted out of life, Neely.”
The door squeals open, and I take a step toward him. “Dane . . .”
But he’s gone.
CHAPTER TEN
NEELY
The sound of air whirling above my head lures me awake. My eyes open and expect to see the bulletin board across my childhood room that holds some of my gymnastics medals. Instead, there’s a yellow-and-white-striped chair and a window overlooking a tobacco field.
My head pounding, I pop up on my elbows and try to remember where I am. Memories from last night filter through my mind. Matt and Penn singing karaoke. Mr. Mucker telling us it was time to go. Claire helping me to her car.
Dane’s face in the bathroom.
I wince.
A soft knock raps on the white painted door, and it opens with a gentle push. Claire’s head pokes around the corner. “Good morning,” she says. She steps into the room. She’s dressed for the day, her hair and makeup done.
“What time is it?” I ask, stretching my arms overhead.
“Noon. You’re more than welcome to stay here, but I need to head to the café in about twenty.”
“No,” I say, coughing as the words get tangled in my throat. “I’m supposed to go to Aerial’s today, and I don’t want to be a pain in the butt.” I throw the blankets off me and notice I’m in the same clothes as last night. “Do you mind if I ask how I got here? And maybe what happened last night? Because I don’t think I’ve ever woken up in someone else’s bed before. Except this one night in Boston, but that’s a long story.”
She laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “We had fun at Mucker’s. You sang some karaoke with Matt.”
“I did?” I groan. “I apologize.”
“You were terrible,” she agrees. “But it was fun.”
“What else?”
“Just normal Friday-night stuff. Penn found some sidewalk chalk and decorated the patio. Mr. Mucker isn’t going to be thrilled when he sees that this morning.”
“I bet not.” I laugh.
“We ordered pizza and told stories and Patrick ended up coming by to see Brittney, and Matt . . .” She blows out a breath. “Let’s just say Patrick will be avoiding Matt for a while.”
I sit up. The pounding in my temples eases a bit as I prop myself up on some pillows. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. It was what Matt threatened to make happen if Patrick didn’t back off Britt. He’s such an ass—Patrick, not Matt.” She pats my leg. “Bet you missed the drama of Dogwood Lane, huh?”
“Right.” I slide my legs off the bed and stretch my arms over my head. My joints crack as I work some life into them. “You should see the drama in the city. There are wars over parking spots and sidewalk space.”
“For real?”
I nod.
“I couldn’t live like that. No offense.” She gets to her feet. “I’ll be out of here, but if you want to stay, there’s a key under the aloe vera plant on the porch.”
I stand and my phone clatters from my pocket onto the floor. I retrieve it, no worse for the wear. “That’s the most obvious place in the world to hide a key, you know,” I say, giving my phone a final inspection.
She shrugs. “At least if they want to break in, they won’t bust my windows or something.”
“That’s such a terrible way to look at it.”
“It’s a warped outlook, I know. I blame it on my mother.” She heads to the doorway. “I’ll let you know before I leave.”
“I’ll be ready in a second. Just need to wake up and find . . . Where’s my car?”
“Mucker’s,” she tells me. “I can drop you off if you want.”
“Please?”
“No problem. Be ready in ten.”
Once she’s gone, I sit back on the bed. The mattress bends under my weight, and I would have absolutely no issues with lying back and going to sleep. That is, until the room is quiet long enough for me to feel the niggle in my chest. It’s a trigger that sends me right back to Dane.
Guilt sinks me deeper into the mattress. I shouldn’t have been so hateful last night, even if I did want to hurt his feelings. Retaliating isn’t my style, and the more I think about it, the worse I feel. I can’t hold on to this and keep fanning flames that should’ve died out years ago. It is pointless and makes me feel nasty.
“Ugh,” I groan, picking up my phone. Not in the mood for happy social media posts, I click the icon for email. Nestled in the middle of a shoe-sale notification and an alert for a new blog post on a sports website is an email from James Snow.
Dear Ms. Kimber,
Thank you for your application to Archon Sports. We were impressed with your résumé and body of work and would like to invite you to interview via telephone.
Please let me know a couple of dates and times that work for you, and I will send a confirmation email and instructions.
Looking forward to meeting you,
James Snow
Managing Editor, Archon Sports
Springing to my feet, I do a little dance in the middle of Claire’s guest room.
“Did I miss something?” Claire asks, coming into the room.
“I just got an interview.”
“Must be pretty special to elicit a dance this soon after waking up.”
“It’s okay,” I say, picking up my shoes. “I actually just left my job, so I’m happy to get anything while I figure out where I really want to land.”
Claire sits with me on the bed. She watches as I slip on my sneakers.
“Sometimes we all need a change of scenery,” she says. “Did you work there long?”
“A few years. They screwed me over on a promotion, and I decided to go elsewhere.” I bite my lip as I stand. “It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done—just up and quitting my job. But I write stories telling little girls and grown women alike they can achieve anything they want. Not to let anyone knock them down. That they don’t have a ‘place’ in society. Staying at my job would’ve felt really hypocritical, you know?”
“Sounds like you made the right choice.” She gives me a quick hug. “Now I gotta get to the café, or I will be job hunting too.”
“Let’s go,” I say, following her out the door.
“Great job, Mia!”
She shrieks and jumps up and down, the bun on top of her head wobbling with each leap. “I did it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. “Keyarah! Did you see?”
“Do it again,” her friend insists. “Hurry. When I did my back tuck the first time, I waited too long to do it again. Go.”
“It’ll be better this time,” Madison says from the side of the mat by Keyarah. “You know you can do it now.”
The three little girls banter back and forth while Mia gets settled at the corner of the mat. She looks at me with a hint of trepidation in her bright-green eyes. Her hands clench beside her.
“Hey,” I say. “Breathe. You got this, girl. Remember to push off your toes.”
“Okay.” She nods and takes a long, deep breath.
Motioning for the girls to quiet down, I take a step off the mat. Remaining as still as I can, I meet her eyes.
My heart sprints with her as she barrels across the floor. I hold my breath as she turns her roundoff, and my torso pulls up as Mia leaps backward and rotates.