Page 14 of Past Tents

I watched her process my words with the hint of a smile. It’s a good thing we were walking slowly because I wasn’t watching where we were going, not when I had the choice of looking at her instead.

“I often feel like I’m bucking the odds. And you’re right, it motivates me. I’ll take Door Three, if you’re offering.”

We each grabbed a cup of water from the teachers’ lounge and then went out to the parking lot. “My purse is in there,” she protested when I walked past her car. She popped the lock and retrieved her purse while I opened the passenger door of my truck. “I’m glad you’re giving in to reason.”

“You’re right about driving. But I’m not going to the hospital for a few scrapes and bruises. Let’s not be crazy.” She surveyed the step up to the bench seat and hesitated. Without further thought, I scooped her up and placed her on the seat. Once again, our faced were inches apart as I reached across her body to fasten her seat belt. I expected pushback—insistence that she could buckle her own seat belt—but her gaze met mine and stayed there, those blue eyes watching my every move.

For a moment, it looked like she’d stopped breathing. Only the fluttering pulse at her neck offered the proof that settled my nerves.

The scent of her tickled my nose, and I fought the urge to close my eyes and inhale more deeply. Instead, I closed the car door and clenched my fists, taking a deep breath of reality before making my way to the driver’s side.

“I’ll only let you drive me if you promise not to tell the rest of the faculty about my big splat.”

“I won’t say a thing, but I can’t promise half the teachers don’t already know. Word spreads fast.” I chuckled at her constant pushback. “You missed your calling. You’d make a great negotiator.”

She nodded, head resting back against the seat. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. Or just that I’m stubborn.” An odd feeling of possessiveness set in as I wondered who else had said it. I quickly tamped down the surge of jealousy. I had no claim on her. The rogue feeling was absurd.

I closed my door and focused on putting the key into the ignition. Feelings had no place here. I was a colleague offering her a ride because it was the right thing to do.

Nothing more.

CHAPTER

FIVE

ALLY

Clay was quiet on the drive to my house once I gave him my address, which was just south of town. The faculty socialized outside of school on occasion, but he’d never been to my house, nor I his.

“I just realized I have no idea where you live,” I said, recalling that Clay gave Witty a ride to school when the Winstons were fixing his car a few weeks ago. Maybe they lived near each other.

I studied his profile as he stopped at the four-way stop a few blocks from my house. Clearly, we weren’t neighbors because no one who lived near me ever stopped at that stop sign. We all just slowed and rolled through it.

A muscle in his jaw flexed like he was clenching his teeth. Maybe I was being too nosy. “You don’t have to tell me. Whatever. I was just making conversation.”

“No, I don’t mind people knowing where I live. I’m up near Bandit.”

I couldn’t have heard him correctly. Surely, he didn’t mean Bandit Lake. The houses there weren’t for sale. They were sitting on private parkland that was handed down through families.Specific families. And even though I hadn’t known Clay well growing up, I was pretty sure I’d have known if his family lived on the lake.

“You live . . . on the lake?”

He tore his gaze from the road to hit me with the first smile I’d seen since I splatted in front of the track team. “You seem surprised.”

“Oh. It’s just . . . not many people do.”

He shrugged and turned back to the road, making me inexplicably sad. I didn’t realize how much I liked seeing his smile until it faded from his face, and he returned to his Teacher Clay disposition, thoughtful and serious. “I was the favorite grandkid. So I was deeded a lake house with instructions to find love and be happy there. Talk about a recipe for guilt.”

“Why would you feel guilty?”

“Because I didn’t do anything in particular to deserve it, other than having a health condition in common with my grandmother. She felt a kinship, and now I have lakefront property. And as to the love part, maybe it’s good she isn’t around to see that I haven’t made good on that.”

My brain focused on the part where he mentioned a health condition. I snuck a glance in his direction. He looked okay, as strong and fit as ever, and I chastised myself for not knowing something was wrong. A pang of worry sliced through me. Was he sick?

“Are you . . . okay? Healthwise?”

His eyes shot to mine before returning to the road. I saw my look of concern mirrored in his.

“Yeah. Basically.”

---