Wildflower (Colors #4) (11 page)

“Yes,” I answered on a huff. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Oh, God. Is Ethan okay? Is he alive?”

“It wasn’t that bad!” I yelped as Navie burst into a fit of contagious giggles. “Okay, so it was that bad. But no one ended the night dead and/or hospitalized.”

“Well that’s a bonus.” Her laughter trailed off and, from the look of concern in her eyes, I knew what was coming next and did my best to brace for it. “I’ve given you time, sweetheart,” she said sympathetically.

“I know.”

“But I have to ask. It’s time.”

I sucked in a deep breath and released it with an, “I know that, too.”

“God, Harlow. You were married? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I’m embarrassed about it,” I admitted weakly. “Who wants to openly admit that they were divorced by the age of nineteen because they were careless and made some pretty epic mistakes?”

Navie’s face grew fierce as she declared, “You know you never have to be embarrassed about anything, Harlow. Not with me.
Never
with me.”

She was right, I knew that. And the knowledge that I’d kept something like that from her made me feel small. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I’d have known. You were always there for me. You never gave me the chance to return the favor.”

Guilt washed through me as I thought about how my and Navie’s friendship started. When we met our freshman year at NYU, she was this scared, broken girl who had convinced herself she wasn’t worthy of love. Growing up in foster care all her life had taken a serious toll on her self-confidence, but I’d seen something in her from the very first day, and I was determined to be her friend. It took a while for her to open up to me, but once she finally did, it solidified our friendship, making it the strongest I’d had since Chloe.

“What happened?” she coaxed gently.

“I got pregnant,” I confessed in a quiet voice. “I was seventeen, just a few months from turning eighteen. Noah’s parents were these super-strict religious folks who demanded we get married because we couldn’t have a baby out of wedlock.”

“Oh, God,” Navie gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“We were young and immature, and we thought we were so in love and were going to be together forever, you know?” I laughed humorlessly, trying to stop the tears that built in my eyes. “It was a mistake. We never should have gotten married, Navie. We had no idea how to be grownups.”

“But what… what happened?”

I kept my eyes downcast as I relived that part of my life. “I lost the baby.” At that, the tears broke free. It wasn’t because I was still eaten up about the miscarriage. It was painful and heartbreaking when it happened, but it had been years and I’d managed to move on. But the weight of everything that had happened around that same time; the loss of the baby, my marriage ending, the love I thought Noah and I had for each other crumbling, it all still sat heavy on my chest when I opened myself up enough to think about that time in my life.

“Oh, Harlow.” At the sound of Navie’s voice, I was pulled from the past back into the present. Looking at the screen, I saw her deep blue eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have her crying for me. We had exciting news we were supposed to be celebrating.

“I’m fine,” I offered. “Seriously, babe. It was a long time ago. It sucked when it happened, but I’ve gotten over it. I swear.”

She looked at me with uncertainty as I tried to convince her that I’d moved past it all.

“That’s not really something you get over, honey.”

My skin began to prickle with unease as she focused on me. I felt like I’d been placed under a microscope and she was searching for whatever she could find to prove I was lying to her and myself; that I still carried that hurt with me.

I wasn’t broken, not in the way Navie had been growing up, but there was no denying that I was a little cracked. I’d just had several years of practice covering that crack up. But being back in Pembrooke, seeing Noah again, it proved that my patch job might not have been as sturdy as I’d hoped.

I forced my voice to be strong as I told her, “I’m trying. That’s all I can do, right?”

She gave me a resolute nod. “Right.”

I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the flow of tears that were threatening to break through. “Please don’t ask me about the baby, okay? It’s not that I still carry that around with me, but it’s just… it’s not something I like talking about, okay?”

“All right,” she whispered.

“He was here,” I forced myself to admit. I felt like I had a heavy weight sitting on top of me, keeping me from taking a full breath and the only thing I could do to breathe normally was talk about it. “At dinner last night. Ethan invited him.”

There were those types of friends who thrived on gossip, who wanted the juicy details of every dramatic situation. Then there were those like Navie, the kind that instinctively knew how far they could dig before it was time to pull back. The kind that put aside their desire to ask questions in order to give their friends what they needed most. So instead of foaming at the mouth for the nitty-gritty on Noah, she simply asked, “And you’re okay?”

That was the thing about Navie Collins, she always seemed to know
exactly
what I needed. And that’s what she gave me.

“Yeah,” I replied honestly. “I am. It’s still strange, seeing him, being around him. But it was… nice.”

“And we like nice, right? We can handle nice?”

“We can handle nice,” I grinned. “I’m not going to hold my breath that I’ll always be okay around him, but for now… yeah, I’ll take nice over awkward.”

“You know I’m here for you if you ever need me, don’t you?”

“I know, sweetie. And I love you for that.”

“I love you too. And I’m just a phone call or plane ride away. You call, I’m there.”

I smiled sincerely at my friend’s fierce determination. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. Benefits of marrying a dude with money is I can purchase last minute plane tickets whenever I want.”

At that, I laughed. “Good to know. Now can we
please
talk about your wedding? No more heavy, okay? I’m officially maxed out on my daily dose of heavy.”

Navie’s eyes narrowed before she finally relented. “I’ll give you that play,” she told me, pointing her finger at the screen. “But only because I’m getting married, so I should automatically be the center of attention.”

I smiled at her teasing grin. “Only if you promise I get to be a bridesmaid.”

“Of course!” she shouted. Then we spent the next hour talking about all things wedding. I told her about Chloe and her bakery, convincing her that a trip to Pembrooke for the sole purpose of a pastry from Sinful Sweets alone was totally worth it. I told her about my potential job teaching photography. We talked about how Rowan proposed and how her foster brother, Carson, had taken it. I laughed my ass off as she went into detail about how he’d put Rowan in a headlock while shoving dinner rolls in his mouth and shouting “
choke on it, bitch
!”
To say that Navie’s brother and Rowan had a tumultuous relationship was putting it mildly.

By the time I hung up, that sadness in the pit of my stomach had lessened substantially.

It was hard to be so lonely when my life was filled with such wonderful friends.

Walking through the doors of the high school, I let out an exhausted sigh, watching my breath come out in a puff of steam in the cold winter air. Thanksgiving Break was over and it felt like the kids had come back determined to make the remainder of the school year Hell on Earth for the teaching staff.

Jesus Christ, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so tired. Both mentally and physically. It was days like this that made me hate teenagers. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted kids of my own, most definitely. But I fully intended on sending their punk asses back just as soon as they hit thirteen.

My head came up when I heard “Later, Coach Murphy!” yelled across the parking lot, seeing one of the kids from my third period History class climbing into his truck. I lifted my hand in a lazy wave as I made my way toward my own car, ready for the day to be over. I had a six pack in my fridge at home calling my name.

That was, until I scanned the remaining cars in the lot and saw one that stood out among the rest.

I’d recognize Lucille Prewitt’s beat up old pickup truck anywhere. And considering Ethan was too young to drive, it being parked in the lot of the school could only mean one thing.

My exhaustion long forgotten, I turned on my heels and made my way back into the nearly-empty school. My eyes darted through the glass windows surrounding the front office, seeing Ms. Kathy, the administrative assistant just closing down her computer for the day.

I pushed through the door and offered up my most charming grin. “Hey there, Ms. Kathy.”

“Well hey, Coach Murphy.” Ms. Kathy’s eyes swept the length of my body, her bleary, cataract gaze shining with appreciation. I had to laugh. She’d been working at the school for as long as I could remember. The woman was so old she was damn near fossilized, but that hadn’t stopped her from putting the moves on every young, single male staff member that walked through the doors. Had to give props to her for never giving up.

“You’re certainly looking fine today.”

“And you’re a shameless flirt,” I chuckled.

“Can’t blame an old woman for trying.” The papery skin on her cheeks wrinkled as she offered me what I could only assume was supposed to be a sultry grin. Unfortunately, the fact that her dentures appeared to be loose took away from any appeal. “I’m old, not dead.”

I leaned my elbows on the counter and gave her a wink. “And one of these days some lucky man is gonna swoop in here and steal you away from the rest of us.”

“Oh, aren’t you a sweet talker.” She batted her eyelashes and giggled up at me, looking just creepy enough to give me the chills. “So what can I do for ya, handsome?”

“Well, I was just wondering,” I started. I couldn’t outright ask if Harlow had gotten the teaching job. Ms. Kathy and most of the staff at the school had been around when Harlow and I were students. And if that hadn’t been the case, Pembrooke was small enough that most everyone knew good and well about our past, being obvious about my curiosity would have sent the grapevine humming with gossip. “Has Principal Whitfield found anyone to teach the photography class yet? I had a few students asking about it today—
lie
—so I figured I’d try and get some answers for them.”

“You know, now that you mention it, we just found someone to fill the position today.” She leaned forward, her expression conspiratorial. “And you’ll never guess who it is,” she whispered like what she was about to say was the most newsworthy thing to ever hit our little town.

“Who?” I whispered back, playing along for the sake of posterity.

“Harlow Prewitt! Can you believe that? You two were quite the item back in the day, if I remember correctly.”

“Well, how’s that for a coincidence?” I pushed up from the counter, a shit-eating grin stretching across my lips.

“She’s quite the looker, if I do say so myself,” Ms. Kathy offered up, telling me something I already knew, good and well. “Always was such a beauty, but she’s grown into a stunning woman.” Her left eyebrow cocked slyly. “She’s probably still here. If you hurry, you might just catch her.”

Oh, I had every intention of catching her… and keeping her this time. But the old woman didn’t need to know that. “I might just do that, Ms. Kathy.” I knocked my knuckles against the scarred wood grain of the countertop and stepped back. “You have a good evening, now. And don’t get into too much trouble.”

I knew exactly where I could find her. And as the sound of my boots hitting the tiled floor resonated against the lockers of the empty hallway, it took everything in me not to break into a sprint just to get to her faster.

The door to the photography classroom stood wide open. Harlow’s back was to the doorway as she stood in the middle of the room, looking around as though she was trying to take everything in.

Christ, Ms. Kathy wasn’t lying. Every time I laid eyes on Harlow I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. Propping my shoulder against the door frame, I crossed my arms over my chest and just soaked up as much of her as I could. Even after all these years, just the sight of her was like a punch to the gut. My body reacted the same way every single time. My breathing escalated, my heart beat a frantic rhythm against my ribcage, my fingers itched to touch her. And my cock grew painfully hard behind the fly of my slacks.