It’s almost like he’s flirting, but then again, it also seems like an insult.
Caiden sees me trying to form a response and cuts me off. He knows better. “No, I wasn’t going to. Was I avoiding you? Maybe. But I realized that was stupid.”
My guts knot themselves into a pretty bow inside me, and I want to reply with Maybe it wasn’t, but instead I say, “It’s nice to see you.”
He releases an exasperated laugh as his stare drags down the length of my body, and then takes another gulp of beer. “I find that hard to believe, but I appreciate your manners. Your mom would be proud.”
He’s the only person in this town who could get away with saying that, and I laugh, but as the sound escapes my lips, it makes my heart ache. It’s too soon.
“I’m really sorry about your mom, Hailey.” His hand lifts as if he’s about to touch me, to comfort me, but he thinks better of it and retracts it.
I don’t know what hurts more at this moment, him mentioning my mom or not wanting to touch me. “Thank you,” I reply robotically.
He bobs on the heels of his boots, and I can’t stop staring at him. The long sleeves of his shirt hide what I desperately want to confirm, and I’m so ready to chew him out, but I can’t figure out what about. He’s always been a lot taller than me, but now he’s wider and more built. Now he’s like a towering wall, but a cute one. Handsome, really.
His presence sends my mind into a daze I don’t know how to manage yet. I set my beer down, because I don’t think more alcohol is the answer right now. “How are you?”
“I’ve been good. Keeping busy.”
“I heard you’re a fireman now, with the guys. That’s pretty cool.”
He smiles smugly. “Yup. Took me a while to figure out what I wanted, but I do love the job.”
“So, you like, rescue kittens from trees and stuff, then?”
He laughs, and I love the sound so much that I hate it. I’m aware that makes no sense.
Curiously, the corner of his mouth lifts. “No, not all the time.”
“I see.”
“So…” He mirrors my sarcastic tone, placing his beer down, too, and jams his hands into his tight jeans, shooting me a coy glance. “I heard your writing thing worked out.” His smile tells me he’s fucking with me. The bastard.
“Keeping tabs on me, Caiden?” I don’t want to talk about my book with him, and alcohol makes me bold. “Have you missed me?”
He laughs, and shoots a grin to someone behind me, who I can assume is Brandon. “I heard you’ve been at the diner working?”
He’s not going to answer me, and I hate that that makes him smart.
“I have.” I nod. “I heard you’ve been avoiding the diner.”
He grits his teeth. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
I don’t know where to start, so my mouth flies open and words come out. “It’s hard being there, ya know?” I don’t know why such honest words emerge when I’ve only been standing in front of him for five minutes, but I can’t stop. “It’s just, I’m trying to figure this all out. The diner. Not having Mom. You. It doesn’t seem like I’m allowed to deal with any of this the way I’d like.”
“So, you missed me, then?” he asks, using my question. He reveals a full-toothed grin, and although it’s knee-liquefying, it’s not what I want to hear.
The rounding sound of laughter from a group behind me isn’t either. My guts squirm at the realization that we’re not alone, that I’ve said too much, and that people are staring. This is small-town life, and I can’t assume everyone minds their own business like they would in LA. I don’t like feeling so vulnerable.
I glance around to see people darting their eyes and eavesdropping away. My skin crawls, and I don’t know what to tackle first: Caiden or our audience. I shake my head, feeling my pulse rise in my throat. His grin drops as fast as it had appeared.
“Sorry, Hailey,” he responds. “I was just trying to make a joke; that was stupid of me.”
I just stand there, enjoying watching him fumble when all I’m giving him is silence.
He scratches the back of his neck and ruffles his thick, unkempt hair. “I mean, I miss your mom, too. She was like my mom, ya know?” He lets out a growl of frustration, his eyes dropping to the floor as he says, “Ah shit, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”
He is, although I don’t know how to make this awkwardness any better. I don’t want to talk about my mom. Not now that he’s standing here before me, but he’s rattled my emotions in another way I didn’t see coming.
“I need some air.”
And I’m gone, making my way to the exit, walking out the door he just entered, but when I hit the night air, I start to run to the opposite side of the parking lot. I love the cool wind against my skin, finding that I feel on fire everywhere and out of breath. I instantly remember how much I love the crisp summer nights in the mountains. When the rush of fresh oxygen barrels down my throat as I inhale deeply, it’s a relief to my senses.
I hear the fast crunching of gravel approaching, and I know whoever is following me is inevitable, and that deep, dark place in my heart wants it, even though it shouldn’t.
I thought I was prepared for encountering Caiden. Okay, maybe I wasn’t so prepared to see what he looks like in comparison to five years ago, but I had an inkling of what I’d be facing emotionally. But this is different. This life has an audience, among other things.
I exhale, closing my eyes.
“Hailey?”
I never doubted he’d follow me, but I don’t want to turn around. Standing at the edge of the parking lot, I open my eyes, greeted with lush darkness. I can smell the pine forest that’s in front of me even though the night shields me from it. I’m totally baffled by how green and forested it is here. How could I forget that my childhood adventures always lay a few feet beyond every bit of home? I’d only have to run into the woods to let my imagination run wild, or to seek a quiet moment, or even to let my heart fall hopelessly in love. I don’t have this in LA I’m in awe of this escape route.
“Yes?” I reply, turning around. Caiden is so ridiculously grown up in such a heart-stopping way that I forget how to operate my mouth. “Five years did you unfortunately well, Caid.”
He laughs, his eyes blatantly sliding up the length of my body again. He’s opening his mouth to respond, but my heart and mind have another battle to score. “Don’t respond to that,” I blurt.
“We’re not so good at this seeing-each-other-after-all-these-years thing, are we?”
“We’re all over the map.”
He nods. “Where do we start now?”
I lift my hand, and in my flustered state, I grab for his tattooed arm, pushing up his sleeve. “Show me,” I whisper. It’s a demand I shouldn’t make.
He doesn’t pull away; he just stares, pinning me with intensity and goading curiosity as he whispers back, “Why, Hailey?”
“I just need to know.”
The curve to his lips makes it feel like he’s achieved his own personal victory. I know I’m showing I care too much.