Kissing Lessons Page 22

  Lesson #32

  When it’s too risky, bail.

  x Hayden x

  When Hayden reentered her house, Mom was in the kitchen with Alex. She was hunched over, her silk robe riding up and showcasing the bottom half of her ass cheeks. Not that Mom minded. There wasn’t an ounce of modesty to her.

  Hayden knew the only things in that fridge were ketchup, mustard, and packets of soy sauce, but she didn’t bother pointing that out.

  She walked a hard line to her bedroom. She had to be at work in twenty minutes and she had no intention of being late. Thankfully, she had gotten her car up and running again. Even though it had cost her a couple hundred dollars to get it serviced.

  “Hayden! Do you have any peanut butter in your room?” Mom called through the paper-thin walls.

  She knew Hayden kept food in her room. She never once complained about the lock on her door. It was one of the few things Mom seemed to respect—Hayden’s right to her own space. That said, she was always asking Hayden for stuff like she was the neighborhood corner store.

  “Um. I’ll see.” She hurried into her room and quickly changed into her work clothes. On the way out, she grabbed the jar of peanut butter sitting on top of her tiny fridge.

  Peanut butter in hand, she yanked the door open and yelped to find Alex standing there, waiting.

  “Oh.” She pushed back strands of hair from her face. “You startled me.”

  “So you keep peanut butter in there? What else you got to eat?” He peered over her shoulder, trying to get a look into her room.

  She turned and shut her door, securing the lock in place. “Just peanut butter,” she lied.

  The guy was pushy. She hoped Mom got tired of him soon, but the sad thing was, she knew it wouldn’t happen that way. Mom never tired of them first. When she found a loser, she usually clung to him until she got dumped. That’s who she was. That’s the kind of abuse to which she was accustomed. She accepted it. Expected it.

  Hayden set the peanut butter on the counter beside the stale loaf of bread Mom was unwrapping. “There you go. See you later.”

  Then she was out the door.

  On her way to work, she daydreamed about her own place in Austin. It could be some shoebox, and likely would be, but she didn’t care. It would be hers.

  Her own space. Blessed solitude. No locks except the normal one on the outside door. No Mom with her losers creeping around her. No guys like Nolan Martin showing up on her doorstep, challenging her idea of herself and what it was she always wanted—what she thought she always wanted.

  She refused to think the two things were separate. What she thought she wanted and what she wanted were the same thing. They were. They had to be.

  Hayden welcomed the distraction of work. Weeknights were slow, but she found plenty of things to occupy herself. She washed out tubs and cleaned the stockroom, letting Chaz work the front and deal with people. Chaz was a much better people person. That wasn’t her forte, after all.

  She was carrying in some supplies from the storeroom when she spotted Emmaline sitting at a table. Alone.

  When had she arrived?

  Sighing, Hayden dropped her load on the counter and turned to go back inside the stockroom. Only she stalled once she was standing inside the tight space.

  Walking away from the sight of Emmaline Martin was physically impossible. The girl had crawled her way inside Hayden’s heart, and she couldn’t just ignore her.

  With a grunt, she pushed back out of the storeroom.

  Glancing at Chaz, she said, “Hey, Chaz, I’m going to take my break now.”

  Hayden rounded the counter and sank down in the chair across from Emmaline. “Any reason you chose to come here? Of all places you could mope in misery, you chose here.” Her fingers tapped idly on the surface of the table.

  Emmaline stabbed her spoon into her frozen yogurt. “I came here because I knew you would understand.”

  “I’d understand your misery?” Hayden smiled and tried not to let that bum her out.

  Emmaline snorted. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “I must put out that vibe.” She gestured to herself, her fingers splayed wide. “Hayden Vargas, Girl Who Gets Misery.” And she supposed she did understand that. She was well versed in misery.

  Emmaline shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know . . .” Her laughter faded. She stabbed her spoon harder inside the cup of her yogurt. “I don’t know anything.”

  “You know more than you think you do. You know what you want, Emmaline. I think you’ve known that since you came to me for lessons. You. Know. What. You. Want.” She deliberately spaced those words apart, letting them sink in. “So many people can’t figure that out for themselves, but you know. You know, Emmaline.”

  Emmaline stared somewhere over Hayden’s shoulder, her expression pensive, considering.

  Hayden continued, “If you like Beau and he’s into you, then you need to make your brother understand that he can’t get in the way of that. Make him understand it’s what you want.”

  Emmaline’s gaze snapped to her face. “It’s not just Nolan. My mom—”

  “If you get Nolan on board, that’s half the battle. You do one battle at a time. Just like one day at a time.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve only got about five minutes, so let’s cut to it. Here’s my last lesson, and this one is free.”

  Emmaline sat up a little in her seat, her eyes blinking once and widening. “I’m listening.”

  “You gotta take a stand, Emmaline. If you want something badly enough, then fight for it.”

  “Fight for it,” Emmaline murmured to herself.

  “That’s right.” She nodded and then looked away, suddenly uncomfortable in the face of her own advice. The only thing she had ever fought for was herself. Since she was a kid toddling around, largely neglected by her mom, she had been fighting for herself.

  She’d never fought for someone else. She was telling Emmaline to do that, but she had never done that.

  She was eighteen years old and alone. She didn’t have anyone. True, she’d never wanted anyone, but she didn’t allow herself to want anyone—to have anyone—and for the first time that felt sad. That felt sad and lonely.

  For the first time in her life she felt alone. She felt lonely.

  Lesson #33

  You can’t care about what others think. Only what you think.

  x Nolan x

  It was surprising how easy it was to avoid someone who lived under the same roof.

  Nolan wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his sister showed him just how it could be done. She was quite skilled at avoidance. He didn’t think she could manage it for days, but she did.

  Emmaline spent most every night in her room. Mom went in to talk to her, but he didn’t even try. She didn’t want to see him. She’d iced him out ever since he busted in on her and Beau.

  When he woke for school in the mornings, Emmaline was always gone. She got up even earlier and took the bus to school. The bus. Emmaline opted for that rather than ride to school with him. She was a junior. No one rode the bus if they didn’t have to, and she didn’t have to.

  He drove to school alone. Savannah usually rode with Mom. So he drove himself. Just himself. No girlfriend. No sisters. A definite change from the way things used to be.

  Pulling into the crowded parking lot, he spotted Priscilla. She was getting out of Anthony Morales’s Jeep and was all smiles as she looked up at the school’s star soccer player. Apparently, she had no trouble finding a new ride to school.

  That was good. It was a good thing she was out there again. She didn’t miss him, and it made things a lot easier because he didn’t miss her. At least one thing was easy in his life right now.

  And while he may not miss Priscilla, he missed Emmaline. The inside of his truck was depressingly silent as he pulled into his parking spot.

  When he emerged from his truck and started toward the building, he got lost in the river of students. A
few people greeted him, and he said hello back, but he didn’t linger. If he hurried, he might cross paths with Hayden in B hall. Unless she was taking a different route again. He didn’t see her doing that forever though. She wasn’t the cowardly type.

  He picked up his pace, hoping to see her, despite their final words. Despite his regrettable last words to her outside her house. He said he’d never bother her again. He said that and yet he was rushing to see if he could spot her. Just one glimpse.

  He wanted to see her.

  He wanted to hear her voice.

  “Nolan, wait up.”

  He tensed, his shoulders locking up tight. Wrong voice. That was not the voice he wanted to hear.

  He kept walking, reaching B hall.

  Beau called his name again.

  “Hey, Nolan. Hold up,” Beau called again, louder this time.

  A few heads turned, and he knew if he didn’t turn around he would be attracting more attention. Beau would only call out louder, maybe say something people shouldn’t hear.

  Nolan stopped, sucked it up, and turned around. “What do you want?”

  Beau stopped before him, his gaze intent. “You going to ignore me forever?”

  The five-minute warning bell rang.

  “I don’t know, man.” He didn’t know. He only knew he wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. He couldn’t stare at his face without all kinds of conflicting emotions rushing through him.

  “Well, I’m not going away—”

  “You need to go away,” he shot out. “Because I’m not ready to see your face.”

  Beau flushed with anger. “When are you going to grow up?”

  “Me grow up?” Nolan’s voice lifted. “Me? I’m not the one letting my dick lead me around. I’m not forgetting who my friends are.”

  Beau’s face flushed hotter, splotches of red breaking out over his skin. “I haven’t forgotten anything. I just want to be with her, man, see where this could lead. I don’t want to hurt her.”

  People were staring. Nolan felt them watching. He noticed the bodies in his periphery who were stopping to gawk.

  Someone muttered, “Her who?”

  They were attracting too much attention.

  Still, it couldn’t stop him from threatening, “Shut up. Shut the hell up.” He stabbed a finger in the center of Beau’s chest. “You don’t talk about her. Ever.”

  Dorian appeared beside them. “Everyone okay here?” His gaze flicked back and forth between them.

  “Stay out of it,” Beau said tightly. “This isn’t about you.”

  “Yeah. Who is it about?” Dorian smirked. “You fighting over a chick? Come on. You guys are best friends. No pussy is so good that you—”

  Beau was the first to move. He grabbed Dorian by the front of his shirt and spun around, slamming him against nearby lockers with a deafening rattle. He pulled back his fist to strike him, and then stopped himself. Panting, he held his fist in the air, poised, frozen.

  Nolan stepped forward and dropped a hand to Beau’s shoulder. “It’s okay, man. He’s not worth it.”

  Beau spit out, “You don’t talk about people like that. You don’t talk about girls like they’re nothing.”

  Dorian shook his head. “It was just a joke. Relax.”

  The fury was still in Beau’s face, but he lowered his fist, “It’s really not funny. You should watch your mouth.”

  Nolan stepped back, assessing Beau and recognizing for the first time how much he cared about his sister.

  And then she was suddenly there. His sister. Emmaline pushed through the gathered crowd, dropping her backpack on the floor in her haste to reach Beau. She grabbed his arm and pulled him from Dorian.

  Beau looked at her and froze, the last of the fight leaving him, melting away like an ice cube in the sun.

  His sister said something then. Nolan couldn’t make out the words. They were words only for the two of them. Just for Emmaline and Beau. She let go of Beau’s arm and brought her hand up to his face. It was terrible. His sister was caressing Beau’s face, comforting him like some kind of . . . some kind of more than a friend, and it was terrible.

  Nolan couldn’t move. She didn’t care that he was watching. She didn’t care that anyone was watching.

  “Emmaline,” Nolan said.

  She spared him a brief glance. “What?” Clearly, his commanding-big-brother voice had no impact on her. His influence was gone. At least in this.

  She turned her attention back on Beau. Nolan watched her eyes go soft as she looked at him, her fingers stroking his cheek, and he had to swallow back his discomfort.

  Nolan turned to go, but then his gaze collided with Hayden’s.

  She was watching, assessing, waiting to see what he would do, if he would flip out and rage at Beau and Emmaline. Everything he’d said and done before indicated he would do exactly that.

  Nolan spotted Emmaline’s backpack on the floor in front of him. He scooped it up and walked over to her.

  She and Beau looked at him. They both visibly tensed, ready for whatever he was going to say. Ready and willing to take it.

  “Here you go.” He held out the backpack.

  She took it from him. “Thanks.” She and Beau swapped uncertain looks.

  He inhaled deeply through his nose. “No problem.”

  They still looked uncertain.

  He exhaled. “This is going to take a bit for me to get used to.” Nolan gestured to them both. “But I’ll work on it.”

  His sister smiled then. A wide, goofy grin that actually made him feel good.

  Turning away, he pushed his way free of the gawking onlookers, hesitating when he reached Hayden.

  The expression on her face wasn’t smug anymore. It was something else.

  “What?” he asked self-consciously.

  She shook her head, almost too quickly. “N-nothing.”

  He grunted.

  She waved at his sister and Beau. “That was . . . nice.”

  “Nice?” He shook his head. It didn’t feel nice. It was hard. It was damn hard seeing them together and accepting it. It was hard not knowing if it was a mistake or the right thing or if his sister was going to get hurt.

  But he was going to have to let it go. Let his sister decide for herself and maybe make a few mistakes along the way.

  “I’m not nice,” he muttered.

  “Get to class! Break it up, everyone, and get to class!” a teacher shouted into the hall.

  Students started to disperse as the tardy bell chimed. Bodies moved in every direction, set on their paths.

  Looking away from Hayden, he turned and melted into the flow.

  Lesson #34

  When risk is unavoidable, it’s all about how quickly you recover.

  x Hayden x

  Hayden immediately noticed Alex’s truck was parked in her driveway. Fabulous. Her mom hadn’t managed to lose him yet. Surprising. And disappointing. Or maybe not. Maybe the asshole you know is better than the one you don’t. Because Alex wouldn’t be the last asshole in her mother’s life.

  She just wanted to go to work. Was that too much to ask?

  She wanted to get in and out without talking to anyone. She wanted to go to work and forget about Nolan and that scene she’d witnessed in the hall this morning.

  She’d watched Nolan put aside his feelings about his sister’s choices. He’d done it for her happiness and maybe for Beau’s happiness, too. It moved Hayden. More than she wanted to admit. She’d watched him and knew it was a struggle. She’d seen it all over his face and in the tension lining his shoulders. He still didn’t like the idea of Emmaline and Beau, but he’d put aside his hang-ups.

  Maybe she could learn a little from him and start to do the same.

  She opened the front door and came to a hard stop.

  The first thing she noticed was that Alex had all his clothes on. Usually, he crept around the house in his boxers, so she wouldn’t look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

  He was
not alone. There was a big burly guy with him, and they were carrying the living room TV between them. She did a quick sweep of the living room. Mom was nowhere around.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Alex froze. “Hayden. Sweet cheeks. What are you doing here?”

  She cringed at the horrible nickname. “I live here. What are you doing here?”

  Alex shot his friend a cagey look. “Uh. We’re just taking this in for repairs.”

  The TV was one of the only decent things they owned in this house. Her mother had priorities, after all, and she didn’t want to miss her shows.

  Her heart started racing. They were robbing the place. Not so surprising, she supposed. She knew what to expect from the kind of company Mom kept.

  “Nothing is wrong with the TV.”

  The big guy spoke up, his voice like gravel. “Mind your business, girl, and there won’t be any trouble.”

  She looked around and noticed other things. A small pile of electronics sat on the kitchen table, including her laptop. Her laptop. Which she kept in her bedroom.

  Her gaze skipped down the hallway toward her door. It was ajar, the lock broken into bits along with splinters of wood on the floor. No. No no no no no no no.

  She looked back at the table and her heart surged in her throat. There, on top of it, was her shoebox. The shoebox that held every dollar she had ever earned. A shoebox full of the cash. The cash that was supposed to give her a fresh start in Austin.

  They’d found it.

  She reached for her cellphone in her pocket. “You need to put that down and go. I’m calling the police.”

  She had barely punched in her passcode when she felt a wind of movement.

  Hayden looked up just as the big guy charged toward her. He wrenched the phone out of her hand and flung it against the wall, the case shattering to pieces. She knew the phone it once protected was destroyed.

  “Like. I. Said.” He enunciated each word carefully. “Mind your own business and there won’t be any trouble.”

  Her stomach twisted and heaved. The man was capable of hurting her. She read that in his eyes. In his crazy eyes. He towered over her and he was huge. She couldn’t beat him in a physical contest. He could break her just like he broke her phone. If she challenged him, that was precisely what he would do. She knew enough about life, about men like him, to know that.