Page 38 of Tangled

Drew smirks while slyly reaching for another snickerdoodle before he makes his way to the door. “Seems to me you two share a lot more in common than just a hatred of one another.”

“I saw that, Drew. Don’t forget, I’m friends with Tammy now too. So don’t think I won’t squeal as well.”

“You both deserve each other then,” he waves at us from over his shoulder with his back turned. “And who’s to say this one isn’t for my lovely wife? I am a gentleman, after all. Hey, don’t kill one another before the next class starts.”

I shake my head as I laugh at Drew, only to turn back around to find Kane staring down at me now, penetrating my mind with his gaze, holding out the napkin full of scones to me.

“Thank you,” I say shyly, accepting his offering and finding a seat at one of the tables.

“You’re welcome,” he says, shifting his feet, heading to the coffeemaker to refill his thermos.

Silence fills the room as I pick at the raspberry scone—which is wickedly delicious, crumbling and melting on my tongue while a savor every calorie. The slow trickle of Kane pouring coffee into his cup is the only noise.

“So, I’ve finally met another person who hates pumpkin flavored shit as much as I do,” Kane breaks the silence after clearing his throat, startling me.

“Uh, yeah. I only eat one slice of pumpkin pie a year and that’s on Thanksgiving. Other than that, I could live without it,” I nervously reply, waiting for him to turn around so I can read his face again.

Kane turns and glides over to the table, standing before me, studying my face while his eyebrows draw together in thought.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask curiously, wondering how this man can be so hot and cold. There has to be demons he’s fighting to be so wishy-washy with me. How is it we’ve gone from attacking each other, to him saving me from crickets, to screaming at each other, to frozen in place, talking about pumpkin flavored foods?

“I don’t hate you, Olivia,” he confesses, astonishing me with directness.

“I don’t hate you either, Kane.” Our two sets of eyes remained locked on one another, the hammer of my heart in my chest picking up relentlessly as I wait for him to make the next move.

“Olivia, I…” He speaks just as the bell rings and he darts his head to locate the sound, signaling the end of our prep period and the impending start of the next.

The skid of my chair against the tile rings through the room as I push it back to stand, grabbing my scones and keys from the table.

“Have a nice day, Kane,” I offer as I scoot around him, my head held high, not allowing his uncertainty to rock me any more than it already has—at least not in front of him.

“You too, Olivia,” he calls out after me, his voice fading away as I turn the corner and battle the students through the halls to get back to my classroom in time for the next period.

Chapter 18

Kane

“I swear, at this point, she probably thinks I can’t finish a goddamn sentence,” I mutter to Tony as I sip my IPA, hunched over on his bar like I usually find myself on a Friday night.

I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t Drew—who’s trying to play matchmaker along with his wife—or my therapist, who already gave me the direction I needed to move forward with Olivia. I don’t also need to pay her to listen to me bitch about what an idiot I looked like.

Tony just smirks at me with his arms crossed over his chest, that knowing look in his eyes.

“Just say it, Tony….”

“I never thought I’d see the day that you would be this torn up about a woman,” he chuckles, making the sound of drowning myself in beer even more appetizing.

“Psh… you and me both, Tony. This is all your fault, you know,” I say while pointing a very strong finger in his direction.

“Me? What the hell did I do?”

“You’re the one who told me to go have fun that night. You’re the one who pushed me towards her. If I hadn’t listened to you, none of this would be happening right now!”

“So? If I had to do it all over again, I would. You needed that, Kane. And now the more I see you up in arms about this woman, themoreI think you need her,” he says while pointing his finger back at me.

“I don’tneeda woman…”

“You may not think that now, but trust me… no man is meant to walk this Earth alone. As much as we don’t want to admit it, a good woman makes life worth living, son. Trust me… when I found Georgia, life had a new meaning after her. If anything can help heal you, it’s love.”

---