Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2) (7 page)

BOOK: Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2)
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Shooting an evil, fire-breathing glare at Leslie, I sweetly replied, “Well, you know, Les, I didn’t want to overshadow your event, and you had me pretty busy.” As if I could have held a candle to that pink, glittery spectacle. That movie with the two best friends wanting to get married the same day played through my mind, and a little snicker escaping my lips as I pictured an orange, spray-tanned Leslie with discolored hair.

Leslie’s eyes lit up with fear, as if she could see the devious plotting going on upstairs in my mind, and she held her hands up in a retreating gesture.

“Well, take your time, Rose. I know your day will be perfect, and as soon as I get back from my honeymoon, I will be as devoted to you as you were me,” Leslie pacified, throwing a smile out, no doubt to soothe me.

Done with breakfast, we each slid out of the booth. “So, you guys ready to get to the airport?” I asked, ready to have her gone and back. Leslie was my center. She grounded me, pushed me, seriously drove me crazy; but she was my best. Without her, I’d be an explorer without a compass, even if her arrow was a little screwy.

The airport terminal was bustling with people climbing out of cars to catch their flights. I slipped out of my car and stood by Leslie as Grant removed the luggage. “Have a great time,” I began. “Take lots of photos. Have lots of fun.”

“Oh, we will, but I’m not sure you’ll want photos,” Grant kidded, waggling his eyebrows at me.

Puke
.

Leslie’s musical laugh bubbled out, and I turned to embrace her in a hug. “Come back soon,” I whispered in her ear, squeezing her a bit tighter.

Bryant rested his hands on my shoulder, signaling it was time to part from my best friend, who I hadn’t spent more than a day away from since the accident, except when Bryant had dragged me to some bed and breakfast over the summer.

“If you need me, you call me. Don’t worry about the time, Rose. I am here,” Leslie sternly said. Her eyes showed the concern she was voicing. She obviously knew that everything going on had my anxiety up and that, without her there, Lord knows what would happen.

As Bryant ushered me back in the car, a tear rolled down my cheek, and I dashed it away quickly, forcing the biggest smile I could muster to appear on my face. Waving enthusiastically as Bryant drove away, we turned the first corner, and then I felt those chocolate eyes on me as I sat there pulling at my cuticle and biting my bottom lip.

“You got me, you know,” he soothed.

“I know.”

“It’s only a week.”

“I
know
,” I grumbled.

“I mean, what could possibly happen in a week?” Bryant said, sounding so assured and confident.

Everything.

CHAPTER TEN

 


U
GH!
I
AM SO GLAD THIS
weekend is over. I’m pooped!” I whined into my pillow, not bothering to even lift my head.

“I know what you mean. I feel like I could drive to the airport with my eyes closed after shuttling so many of the guests to catch their flights. You think they could have coordinated the times, and I could have just rented a charter bus,” Bryant griped beside me.

“What an amazing wedding, though. They looked so happy,” I said adoringly, rolling to look at Bryant and trace his pecs and abs with my fingertips. His olive-toned skin trembled beneath my touch as little goose bumps appeared.

Turning his head to look at me, he leaned in and placed a soft warm kiss on my lips, letting his tongue just barely dart out to taste me. “You know I love you. I am happy,” he whispered as he nuzzled my neck.

“I love you too, Bryant, so much,” I whispered back softly.

“Pick a date. If you don’t want it to be big, we can just go to the courthouse, a park — whatever you want. Just marry me. Marry me tomorrow. I just want a ring on your finger, my name to be yours. I want to look at you, Rose, and call you my wife,” Bryant pleaded desperately as tears welled in his eyes.

Rolling away, I heard a huge sigh come from Bryant.
Defeated. Giving up on me.
Turning back to him, phone in hand, I let a smile light up my face. My finger quickly typed in the code to unlock my phone, and the brightness of the screen lit up the room with its artificial glow. I squinted a moment, trying to get my bearings. “Okay, so, tomorrow, I got work.” I paused, looking up into the eyes of the man I loved more than life itself.

A slow smile spread across his face as he watched what I was doing.

“But you know, if we get married while Leslie is away, we’d have to go into the witness protection program. I don’t even think the mafia could protect us from her wrath.”

Bryant winced as if he was visualizing Leslie coming after us. “Yeah we should wait for her,” he agreed, nodding his head.

“I do want a small church wedding… and a white dress,” I continued.

“And you deserve it. You can have anything you want.” Bryant kissed me swiftly, excitement just pouring off him.

Laughing, I went on. “So that takes some time. Let’s pick — Valentine’s Day? I know, it’s totally cliché, but, at least then when we celebrate the day, it will mean more to us. It won’t be only a day where you buy me chocolates and roses because it’s a just a holiday. It will be our holiday, and everyone will be joining in celebrating our anniversary.”

Bryant reached over and grabbed his phone, unlocked it, and accessed his calendar.

February fourteenth,
it is.

After clicking save, he changed to a different screen on his phone and then twisted it away from me.

I tried to peer over his shoulder with no luck. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“None a ya business,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at me.

Letting out a sigh, I narrowed my eyes to attempt to intimidate him into submission.

“Bryant, love, haven’t you heard the expression
Happy Wife, Happy Life?
It applies now.” I used my sternest tone.

Letting out a deep laugh, he clicked a few more keys on his phone, and I was forced to stare as his smile grew bigger and bigger. My phone dinged in my hand.

 

You were
tagged in Bryant Matthew’s
status.

 

“Seriously?” I laughed. I clicked it open, and sure enough, there was a new status from the crazy man lying in bed beside me.

 

It’s official,
folks! This woman has FINALLY picked a damn date. In
192
days, Rose will become Mrs. Matthews. Leslie,
you better hurry back so you girls can start planning, cause it’s happening!

 

“Wow you got it down to the day, huh? What about hours and minutes?” I teased some more, elated that I’d made Bryant so happy by just picking a date.

Pulling me into him to snuggle, he let out a chuckle. “Silly, you didn’t set the time, just a date. I’ll update the countdown app when you get that squared away.”

“Oh, goodness me, Bryant!” I giggled just as my phone let out another ding.

Bryant placed a kiss on my forehead and settled in to fall asleep as I looked at my phone screen.

 

Jordan:
Congrats on picking a date. Don’t rush into it Rose, trust yourself.

 

Staring at a moment, I swallowed past the worry he’d dredge up inside of me.
Damn you,
Jordan.
Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the good. Focus on the here and now. I didn’t doubt I wanted to spend my life with Bryant, every waking second with him. Determined, I replied to Jordan.

 

Me:
Thank you.
I appreciate your support more than I can say. I know you will always be there for me, and I love that.

 

I could see the little ellipsis appear immediately as Jordan pecked away a reply back to me. My phone buzzed in my hand again, and the message that came through would have had my jaw on the floor had I not been lying in bed. I quickly deleted the entire conversation. Blasphemy. I didn’t want to stir up that hornet’s nest again between the guys.
I thought we were past this, thought he understood.
Bryant, I love Bryant.
I sat there, eyes closed, continuing to beat that mantra into my mind. The black text against the white pixel screen of my phone burned behind my eyelids.

 

Jordan:
I have, still, will

always LOVE YOU.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

S
CHOOL WOULD KICK OFF
THAT
WEEK
, so as I put the car in park in the teacher lot of Ingram Elementary, I mentally ran through everything I had hoped to accomplish before kids arrived.

I saw a flash of white as a car whipped in quickly beside me and jerked to a halt, gears grinding as it was thrown in park. Looking over, Ian flashed me a smile and waved enthusiastically.

I shut my door and pushed the key to lock it up just as Ian’s car beeped, telling me he’d done the same.

“Cute car,” he called over the roof at me as he hoisted the strap of his leather messenger bag onto his shoulder.

“And you,” I called back, taking stock of his white Mercedes that he had just abusively pulled into the parking space beside me.

Ian puffed out his chest in an act of masculinity. “Mercedes,” he boasted.

“Wow, head teacher must pay well,” I joked, trying to smack him back down a few notches to the real world.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t get it from teaching,” he mumbled. “I’m just—” He paused as he chewed on his bottom lip, apparently deciding how to proceed. “I come from it, so I spend it. Can’t take it with me. Look, we need to get working. Class starts this week, so you need to be ready, and I saw your room. You’re not.” Stomping off, Ian reached in his coat, yanked a phone out of his pocket, and put it to his ear.

Grabbing a box from my trunk, I made my way into the building still flabbergasted from that whole exchange. My spidey senses were on red alert. Something about Ian set my nerves on edge, but besides seeing him portray an immature man with an ego complex, I really hadn’t had any negative experiences with him. He had been pretty helpful since I’d come to the school and had always offered to answer any questions I’d had.

As I made my way down the outside corridor toward my room, I could hear Ian’s voice carrying through his closed door.

“No, man! Fuck that! This is too close. I owe you nothing.”

Slowing down, I tripped on the sidewalk and fell to the concrete. The contents of my box dumped out all over. Ian’s door slung open as I kneeled on the floor, fighting back a few tears. I wasn’t sure if they were as result of the stinging pain coming from my knees or the sting of embarrassment.

“Hey, I gotta go.” Ian spoke to whoever was one the other end of the phone before sliding it back in his pocket. Squatting nearby, he looked at me a moment before reaching up to wipe a tear that had escaped. “Are you okay?”

Gathering my wits, I just wanted to be in my classroom, and if I wouldn’t have been so damn nosey, I would still be on my way. “Clumsy.” I shrugged, moving to get back to my feet.

“Hey, take it easy. Your knees are cut up. Come in my room and sit a minute. I’ll grab a first aid kit.”

“Really, I’m fine. I’ll just get a wet napkin when I get to my room.” I began picking up my stuff and tossing it back into the box haphazardly.

“Rose, stop,” Ian commanded. Something in his voice made my body freeze.

Taking my hand, he pulled me into his classroom and sat me in the little orange plastic chair sized for the average eight year old. Ian rapidly stepped back out and picked up the last of my things then carried the box back in. He set it beside me and placed a hand on my leg as he squatted, eye-level with me. I quickly adverted my gaze to look at my scraped knees.

“I’m going to get a first aid kit real quick. Wait here. I’ll have you cleaned up in no time.”

Nodding my head, I just sat there, completely stupefied — immobile, trembling. Everything in me screamed to escape — to run. Instead, I sat there and waited, just as instructed.

“Hey, look who I found,” Ian called from the hallway as he neared the classroom.

My body seized up more as I waited for him to turn the corner into the doorway.
Step-step. Step-step. Step-step.
I could hear each footfall with an echo as the other person followed Ian.

Ian entered the classroom, and I noticed his demeanor had changed entirely, setting me at ease slightly. He seemed carefree and had a smile on his face, friendly.

“Come on in, man,” he called to the guy behind him.

“Bryant! What are you doing here?” I said in shock.

“Hey, hun, I came to bring you some flowers for your classroom. Celebrate your first week as an official teacher. And for picking a date.” Bryant waved the bouquet at me. “Apparently, I should have brought you Band-Aids instead,” he teased, letting a chuckle escape. Kneeling in front of me, he gently touched around my scraped knees and took the first aid kit from Ian. Quickly, he cleaned up the few bleeding scrapes before placing a bandage on each one. “You’ll live,” he concluded.

“Is that your professional opinion?” I mocked back.

Ian let out a subtle cough, reminding us both of his presence and the fact that we were in his classroom.

“Oh goodness, Ian. I am so sorry. This is my fiancé, Bryant. Bryant, Ian. He is the head teacher for the second grade here,” I said, making introductions quickly as they shook hands, which kind of looked more like an arm wrestling match as each one forcefully gripped the other.

“Well, thank you for the help, Ian. We’ll get out of your hair. Where does the first aid kit go, and I’ll put it back?” I asked as Bryant scooped up my box of stuff.

“Nonsense, Rose. You go ahead and get to work. I’ll make sure it gets put away for next time you get hurt,” he replied, letting the evil Ian show a little.

Bryant nudged me as I stood there frozen a moment. “Well, thanks again,” I called as I walked out and led Bryant to my classroom.

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