Page 3 of Holiday Intercepted
“Nice job,” she whispered tome.
“Yeah,” Laura whispered too, “maybe you should be coaching speech and debate team withme.”
I rolled my eyes as them, smiling to soften the sarcastic move. But inside? Inside I was doing a victorydance.
The meeting ended ninety minutes later and we all filed out the door in groups. Kyra shifted the box of trophies to her other hip grunting and I smiled at her, taking the box. “I’ve got this,” Isaid.
“I’mfine—”
“You’re wearing heels and you just got your nails done for the party. Don’t mess them up for this.” I, on the other hand, hadn’t even begun primping yet. Not that that meant a whole lot to me. I planned to just paint my own nails at home, take a shower and get dressed. If there was time, I might shave my legs.Mightbeing the operative word. It’s December 23rdin New England and I have no date and no boyfriend. Let’s be real -- ain’t no one is seeing these legs untilMay.
Kyra rolled her eyes but handed the box over to me. “I swear, between you and Yvonne, I have my hands full as a personal, unpaid stylist. I’ll be over at six to help you pick out anoutfit.”
Kyra always did this. She forced me to put on a fashion show of the same six dresses—the only dresses I owned—until she finally threw up her hands in frustration because nothing I had was good enough. Then, she’d run home, grab one of her dresses and by the time she came back, I was already dressed and ready to go in one of the outfits she hadvetoed.
Even still, it was our routine, and it was kind of a fun tradition. I called out to Laura and Mr. Rutherford. “Do you want your trophies back until we return from break? Otherwise, I can keep them all together here and lock them in myoffice?”
Laura waved her hand at me. “You lock them up. They’re all going to the same place anyway, thanks toyou.”
I left the library and made my way down the hall, past the lunchroom until I was at my classroom door. I fumbled with my keys in one hand while balancing the heavy box. Dang, fourteen trophies were heavy. Finally, I got my door open and flipped the light on with my toe.Thank you, fourteen years of ballet lessonsand the flexibility that came withthat.
I opened my metal filing cabinet and tucked the box inside. Through the window, snow drifted from the gray skies, dusting the football field with a blanket of white. We were expected to get two to three inches this weekend. The perfect amount to add a little ambiance to a romantic engagementparty.
I blinked and for a quick moment. I thought I was seeing things. There, standing at the edge of the football field was Taylor Wilson. I squinted my eyes, pressing against the window as he turned, giving me a full view of his broad shoulders and light brown, full head of hair. Even beneath the winter coat, scarf, and jeans he wore, I could tell his body had only improved since high school. Those muscled pecs I had once run my hands up during our stage kiss looked twice as largenow.
He glanced in my direction and my breath caught as his eyes landed right on me in the window. I put a hand up, giving a littlewave.
He didn’t wave back. That’s when I saw her. Tiffany. Outside, she walked into view, her back to me. My eyes had played tricks on me; he wasn’t looking at me at all. It was Tiffany. AlwaysTiffany.
“Paige?” A deep voice said behind me and I jumped, startled. My cheeks warmed, and I wasn’t sure if I felt so foolish because of the way I jumped out of my skin or because I was caught spying on Taylor and Tiffany apparently reconnecting on the same dang football field where they had met yearsago.
I spun around, finding Coach Bolton standing in my doorway. He smiled and held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to scareyou.”
I pressed my palm to my sternum and chuckled. “Coach Bolton, hi.” I shook my head. “You didn’t.” He cocked a brow in my direction and I rolled my eyes. “Okay, you did. But it wasn’t your fault. I’mjumpy.”
He took a few steps into my room and it wasn’t until then, the mirroring of what was happening here in my classroom to out there on the football field that I realized mine and Taylor’s lives running on a parallel plane. He, the football star destined for greater things. Me, the high school theater kid who got a full scholarship to Northwestern. Only, true to form, mine didn’t pan out. I had to drop out once my mom got sick so I could come home to care for her, effectively putting me behind everyone else and losing myscholarship.
My eyes scanned my classroom, the walls papered with cast photos and scene images from my students’ plays, and I smiled. Despite my broken dream, I loved my job. It was fulfilling in all the best ways, even if I did miss the spotlightmyself.
Coach Bolton blinked, his eyes a soft, smoldering gray like the smoke coming off a tamped-out fire. “Paige, how many times do I need to tell you to call meDave?”
“Right. Sorry… Dave. I get so used to calling you Coach around the kids.” I shrugged. It was a weird habit that only other teachers and parents wouldunderstand.
He licked his full lips and took another step closer, running his hand through his dark hair. “You going to the partytonight?”
I nodded. “Of course. I can’twait.”
He shifted his weight nervously. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Coach so nervous before. “Cool. You also staying at theinn?”
I shook my head no. “My house is literally right next door.” I shrugged. “That would be silly. Especially since Scott could rent any room I take to an actual payingcustomer.”
“Oh, right. Ofcourse.”
“But since I live so close, it’ll practically be like I’m staying there, too. And I don’t have any tenants this weekend either.” I shrugged. Everyone knew Scott had helped me update my little cabin to rent as an Airbnb. It was the perfect home for it. We had started renting it from the original owners of the Maple Grove Inn when mom got sick because I needed to live with her. But ALS was a long disease that didn’t always progress rapidly. The small cabin with its connected in-law suite was perfect for us. I had my privacy and I could still keep a close eye on her when it was needed. When Scott eventually bought the inn from them, he also inherited my cabin and signed the deed over tome.
When mom passed, Scott helped me set up my little home for an Airbnb. And since the markets were so different, we’ve never really competed with each other in the short-term rental market—his business with the inn is a whole other beast than my little one room studio rental. If anything, he referred his overflow clients to me when it was too busy at theinn.
“Good,” Coach nodded. “I, um, I was hoping to get to know you a little better.” He tucked his hands into his pocket and delivered me a cute, shy smile. It was so weird to see this side of the hulking wrestling coach I’d never seen before. I’d never even looked at him in that way. But… I was starting to look. He was handsome. Muscular. Sweet.Smart.
So why wasn’t I more excited that he wanted to get to know me? I felt an emotional tug, knowing that Taylor was still right outside my window and I swallowed against my drythroat.
I nodded. “That’d be nice,” I said, ignoring the lazy yawn my libido was giving at the thought. I grabbed my tote bag and purse, slinging them over my shoulder. “So, uh… I’ll see youthere.”
“Here,” he said, gently taking the tote bag of books and scripts from my arm. “I’ll walk youout.”
“Thank you,” Imurmured.
Crap, Kyra might be right. I might actually need to shave my legstonight.
