She was right, but I was a little shocked that she called me out on it. I wasn’t going to tell her anything, though.
I was too fond of my secrets—they kept me company.
“Yes,” I responded plainly and she chuckled.
We made our way to the opposite side of the gym and the doors that opened into the hallway. The locker rooms and my office that I shared with the other two coaches were right on the other side.
“If that’s the way you want to play it, then I’m good with that,” Amanda said, following me into the hallway but stopping in front of the locker room door. “But what I’ve come to learn, even in my own relationship, is that the past always catches up with you.”
With that ominous remark, she told me she’d text me the details for Sunday at the same time her phone rang. Reed’s name scrolled across her screen, and it was sweet the way she smiled when she saw his name.
“See you Sunday!” she called as she hurried down the hallway, putting her phone to her ear.
I pushed into the locker room with the hopes of getting a few more things done before I had to head home for the evening. But I should have known better—I couldn’t get Amanda’s comment about the past out of my head. If only she had known how right she really was.
SIX
Ivy
Thirteen Years Ago
His death would beslow and painful. And then, when he was finally dead, I’d resurrect him just to do it all over again.
I contemplated the best ways to make that happen when the man himself finally appeared. Without knocking, he pushed open the front door and surveyed the room, likely looking for me or anyone for that matter. But I was the only one home, and I was sitting on the couch waiting for him to finally show up four hours later than we’d originally planned.
He spotted me, and the first thing out of his mouth was a rushed apology. I expected it, but I didn’t want to hear his lame reasons or insincere excuses.
“I’m so sorry, Ivy. Madison and I had this huge fight, and I didn’t want to—”
I stood from the couch and slowly walked over to him. His apology quickly stalled, probably because of the look on my face. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and I had to give him credit. He looked sorry. But I was past the point of caring.
We’d planned to interview Mr. Duncan four hours earlier because that was the only time James could have done it. But when James didn’t show, Mr. Duncan refused to do the interview with just me. He said it was theprincipleof the thing. That it was a partner project and should be treated as such.
I’d called James’s cell phone, his home phone and even talked to his mom. She said he was out but should be back soon.
Soon hadn’t been soon enough. It was the easiest project of the semester, yet it counted for a large portion of our grade and I wouldn’t get to reap those benefits because of James fucking Larson.
Hence the plans for murder.
Trying to make sure those plans didn’t actually come to fruition, I took a deep breath and stepped around James. I grabbed the door handle and walked backward until it was wide open. My message was clear: get out.
“Ivy, please. I said I’m—”
“Sorry,” I finished for him. “I heard.”
He stepped closer to me and I prayed he fucking wouldn’t. That moment in my bedroom had played on repeat in my head since it happened the weekend before. The touch seemed innocent at first until it wasn’t. James had removed the mark left behind by my pen on my thigh and then moved his hand higher, squeezing me. The action had elicited feelings I’d quickly suffocated.
His touch caused a very obvious and sudden hum of desire that I’d never experienced. One that lingered throughout family dinner and the rest of the week each time I replayed the quick interaction.
I thought about the way James’s pupils dilated and his breathing became labored as he touched me. If his touch was meant to be teasing, to push my buttons and irritate me as he always did, it hadn’t had that effect on either of us.
But any lingering emotion around the situation was snuffed out when he left me out to dry.
“Did you do the interview?”
I shook my head.
“Well, we can go over there now. He’s home. His car is parked in the driveway. I’ll tell him that it’s my fault we’re late, and I’ll… I’ll agree to mow his lawn for the next month. Or fix whatever he needs around the house.”