Left Behind: Left Behind Series #1 (11 page)

“We
got along just fine until you came into town.”

“Hmmm.
It’s weird how she never mentioned you before. Come to think of it, neither has
Jake. Not that I really spoke to him on the phone much while I was away at
school, but still. Now Jade freaks out whenever your name comes up.”

“You
talk about me when I’m not around?” A smile sneaks out, but Kacie doesn’t catch
it because she’s reading another text.

“All
bad stuff, I promise.” She looks up from her phone and winks at me. “So what’s
the deal with the club? You work there every night?” How convenient of her to
change the subject.

The
rest of the ride, I explain how I’m working extra while my uncle is away and
rarely have a night off. Typically, it’s either my uncle or I who run the club,
but one of the bartenders will occasionally fill in for us if something comes
up. Once in a while, Meg will do it, but she doesn’t usually want to stay
late…or work at all, for that matter.

After
we order our food at one of my favorite local places, we find a table in the
back where there aren’t many people. Only because I already mentioned my
brother, I tell her why I came to Florida in the first place.

“Wow,”
she says, not believing my parents blame me for what happened. “My parents have
officially been knocked out of the running for ‘Parents of the Year’.”

I
shrug. “I know what happened to him wasn’t my fault.” My focus shifts to
unwrapping my cheeseburger and shoving fries in my mouth.

“Do
you?” Kacie asks, staring down at her food, not challenging me to answer.

There’s
no reason not to respond. “I wish I could have stopped Ethan from leaving our
apartment that night. He was so pissed, but he promised to stay put. When I got
out of the shower, he was gone. It was his choice to leave, but if I didn’t
take a shower… I don’t know.”

“If
he really wanted to leave, he was going to go, whether you were in the shower
or not.” Kacie takes a bite of her burger. How is it that she can make eating a
damn cheeseburger look sexy? “I used to come here all the time,” she says,
changing the subject at the right time.

“I
keep forgetting you’re from Tampa. So, how long do you think you’ll be here
this summer?” She immediately stops chewing and her entire body stiffens. What
the fuck did I say? “What is it?”

“Nothing,”
she says, slowly putting down her burger and the fries she was holding. Kacie
brings a napkin up to wipe her face.

“Nothing,
my ass. Out with it,” I say, setting my sandwich down, as well.

“I
have to use the restroom. I’ll be back.” She starts to stand up, but I put my
foot up on her side of the booth so she can’t get out.

“Tell
me first,” I demand. She shakes her head. “Kacie, I’ve been purposely saying
shit for the last hour, trying to get a reaction out of you and not one thing
bothered you. I ask how long you’re hanging around and you look like you’re
about to throw up. What the fuck is that about?” She relaxes back onto the seat
and I lower my foot to the floor.

“I
just thought Jake would have told you.”

“Told
me what?”

“I’m
not leaving Tampa.”

“What
about college? Medical school? Your friends were talking the other night about
how you were going back to Pennsylvania. Are you going somewhere closer?”

“No,”
she sighs. “I graduated last week and I’m not going to medical school.”

“Did
I miss something?” I have no idea what the hell is going on.

“I
never wanted to be a doctor, or even in the healthcare field. It’s not for me.
I’ve known that my whole life. The sight of blood makes my stomach twitch.” She
squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, trying to get the image out of her head.
“Besides getting far away from my family, I chose a college over a thousand
miles away so my parents would never get wind of me switching majors. They are
going to freak when they find out I’m teaching first grade at a local
elementary school starting in August.” I lean back in my seat, a huge smile
across my face. “What?” she asks, picking up her food again. She’s getting good
at avoiding eye contact with me.

“I’m
not sure if I’m happier right now because you’re staying here, or because of
the fantasy that just played out in my head which involved you, me, and a
classroom. I always was a bad student.”

Again,
my crudeness doesn’t bother her. With a mouthful of food, she mumbles, “I sure
hope there aren’t any students in the classroom.” Our eyes lock.

“I
never said anything about it being a sexual fantasy.” I smile bigger, thinking
I might have actually shaken her.

Casually,
she sips on her milkshake to wash down her food. “What’s the point of having a
fantasy if it’s not sexual?” Kacie stands up. “I have to pee. Don’t leave me
here.” Before she walks away, she whispers, “By the way, I hope you last longer
in real life than you just did in that fantasy. It played out in your head a
little too quickly. That would have been awfully disappointing.” I watch her
walk all the way to the restroom and she never looks back. How the fuck did
that just backfire on me?

By
the time she returns, I still haven’t recovered from what she said. She starts
putting the trash on her tray without saying a word. Before she can leave
again, I grab her wrist.

Kacie
glances from my hand to my face. “Can I help you?”

“Why
can’t I figure you out?”

“Figure
me out?”

“I’m
not sure if you want me to jump off of a cliff or take you in the back of my
pickup,” I explain.

She
starts laughing. “If I wanted you to go over the side of a cliff, I’d push you.
As for the other thing, I didn’t beg so you’re not allowed.”

“I
could easily arrange for that to happen,” I mumble. She rolls her eyes.

“Come
on. You have to get to work.” Unfortunately, she’s right.

When
we walk outside, I notice two EMTs climbing out of an ambulance. The passenger
happens to be watching Kacie as if he recognizes her and is trying to remember
from where. She keeps walking down the sidewalk, oblivious to him.

“Hey,
Nate. Was that Kacie Foster who just walked by?” he calls out to the driver.
She didn’t hear him so I pretend not to, either. Hopefully, he’ll just go about
his business.

“Kacie?”
another voice calls out. Damn it.

She
hears him and snaps her head around. “Nate?” Her face brightens up and she runs
over to him. He’s holding his arms open, which she naturally falls into.
Something tells me that she’s been there before. I watch as he lifts her off
her feet and twirls her around.

“When
did you get back into town?” he asks, setting her down. I notice he hasn’t let
her go and I don’t like it.

“Last
week. It’s been so long. How are you?” My heart feels heavy watching her smile
at this guy.

“I’m
great. You look amazing.”

“I
heard you got married right after graduation. I bet you have three, maybe four
kids by now,” she teases.

“That’s
what you get for moving so damn far away. Someone only reports half the gossip
to you.” He shakes his head.

“What
do you mean?”

A
sad look crosses his face. “I called off the wedding before it was too late. I
realized I only proposed because I was trying to forget someone else. It would
have never worked out.”

Kacie’s
body posture tells me exactly what I was wondering. She broke this guy’s heart.

“Nate,
I’m so sorry.”

He
shakes his head. “Don’t be. I’m good. Look, I have to get going.” He points
over his shoulder. “I only have so much time before I need to be back.”

She
gives him a hug and then pulls away. “It was good seeing you, Nate.”

“You,
too.” She watches him turn and go into the restaurant.

I’m
leaning on the hood of my truck, pretending like I wasn’t paying attention when
she comes over. “An ex?” I ask.

“My
first ex,” she whispers, almost sadly.

“Ah.
That makes sense. Poor guy,” I say, looking over her head. He comes running
back out to find her.

“Hey,
Kacie!” he calls. She turns to him just as he reaches us. He looks at me, just
realizing she wasn’t alone, then back to her. “Do you think we could grab
dinner one night this week?”

“I’d
like that.”

“How
about Thursday?”

“Thursday
sounds good. Usual spot?” she asks.

He
brightens up. “Perfect. I’ll see you around seven?” She nods her head. “Okay.
Can’t wait.”

“See
ya.” He leaves us alone again and I walk her around to the passenger side.

Once
she’s up in the truck, I ask, “So, earlier, when you said you couldn’t get
involved with anyone right now…?”

“Evan,”
she interrupts, “I’m not getting involved with anyone. It’s just dinner. It
wouldn’t be a big deal if I was having dinner with Jake, would it?” This little
witch is mocking me by throwing my words back in my face.

“Touché,”
I say, making her laugh.

“I’m
really glad you stopped over today,” she tells me. Her words sound sincere, but
I’m not convinced about her and this Nate guy.

“Yes,
I’m so happy I could reunite you with an ex-boyfriend who still isn’t over
you.” This day went to shit real fast. I go to close the truck door, but she
stops it.

Kacie
reaches out to take my forearm in her tiny hand. “I meant because I had a great
time hanging out with you,” she says when she has my full attention. By the
look on her face, I just ruined the moment with my stupid ass comment. I know
what comes out of my mouth right now is crucial to whether or not Kacie will
want to see me again.

“I
always have a great time when you’re around,” I say, pushing a piece of her
hair behind her ear. “Where should we get lunch tomorrow?”

Her
smile returns and she slides her hand off of my arm. “Nowhere near a cliff. I
might be tempted to push you over if you pull that bullshit with me again.” The
warning is clear.

“Maybe
I’ll just pick something up on my way over to your house. We could just eat
there.”

“Don’t
forget my strawberry milkshake.”

“Yes,
ma’am,” I say, closing her door. That was close.

Kacie

My
first full week back in Tampa went a little better than expected. Monday
started out with tears and sadness, but ended with laughter and friends. Evan
showed up at the perfect time to rescue me. Running into Nate was a surprise.
We haven’t really spoken to each other since the night of our last date. Nate
was trying to talk me out of going away to college. He wanted me to stay in
Florida. Why didn’t he understand how important leaving was to me? At the time,
I saw it as just another person trying to control my life. I left him at the
restaurant and spent the following two months ignoring his phone calls.

Evan
did end up coming over for lunch on Tuesday, but so did Jade. She feels better
if she’s around whenever Evan and I are in the same room together. Of course,
the entire time, Jade kept talking about Nate and how he and I were the perfect
couple back then. She even went as far as to announce how Nate was the guy I’d
lost my virginity to. Evan wasn’t amused. He actually left afterwards and I haven’t
heard from him since. It’s hard not to be disappointed.

There
isn’t any time for me to worry about Evan and where he’s been because Nate is
coming for dinner tonight. While I cleaned this morning, I was thinking about
how I hope Nate knows we can only ever be friends and having a meal together
won’t change anything. Perhaps I should’ve thought this through a little
better. We should be having dinner in a public place rather than on my lanai.
That was our usual spot. We spent plenty of nights out there laughing, swimming
under the stars, and making out. It may not be everyone’s ideal date night, but
it was ours.

For
some crazy ass reason, I decide to make a homemade chocolate cake for dessert
tonight. Gram used to make it all the time and everyone always loved it. It
can’t be all that hard. After retrieving her recipe book from the drawer, along
with all the ingredients from around the kitchen, I’m ready to get started.

“Grease
and flour three six inch by two inch cake pans,” I begin, reading the instructions
aloud. “Why the hell does there need to be three pans?” I let out a sigh,
disgusted with myself for talking to an empty room, and irritated that the pans
won’t grease themselves. Once that step is out of the way, I realize it was the
worst part. Following a recipe shouldn’t be difficult, even for me. Before I
can get to the next step, the doorbell rings. Turning to look at the clock, I
see it’s noon. Lunchtime. My heart skips a beat as excitement pours through me
and I race to the door. If Evan isn’t on the other side of it, my day will
totally be ruined. For a moment, it’s a tad worrisome how happy I am over the
fact that Evan Pierce might be standing outside my door.

Peeking
out of the window and seeing Evan’s black truck parked behind my car almost
causes me to squeal like a teenager. Only knowing he’d be able to hear me
silences my enthusiasm. I open the door and Evan is standing there, holding a
white Styrofoam cup and a brown paper bag. He looks at me with those beautiful
blue eyes and gives me his sexy smirk.

“Strawberry
milkshake and cheesesteaks,” he announces.

“You
know, you don’t have to bring food to come over, right?” I babble, leaning on
the door for support.

“I
could just keep this for myself,” he tells me, starting to raise the cup to his
mouth. Before he can put my straw to his lips, I reach out for the cup.

“I
said food. A strawberry milkshake is required for entry.” He chuckles, hands
the cup over, and walks by me into the house.

When
I catch up to him in the kitchen, he’s looking at the mess spread all over my
counter. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m
going to make a homemade cake,” I say, slurping my milkshake.

“You
bake?”

“Not
really,” I admit.

Evan
smiles and takes both sandwiches out of the bag. “What’s the occasion?”

“For
dessert tonight,” I say without thinking.

He
pauses. “Right. Your date is tonight.” Evan doesn’t look up as he brings our
lunch over to the table.

“You
sound like Jade,” I sigh, sitting down next to him. “It’s not a date.”

“How
is it not a date?”

“It’s
just two old friends having a meal. Just the other day, someone told me how
having a meal with someone isn’t a big deal,” I say.

“Kacie,
I saw the look on his face when you said yes. He definitely thinks it’s a
date.”

“Stop
it.” I slap him playfully on the arm. “It’s not a date. Nate knows he and I
will only ever be friends.”

Suddenly,
I feel the mood change. “Are you sure?”

My
stubbornness gets the best of me and the words fly out of my mouth. “What if he
doesn’t? Why would you care?” Our eyes are locked and I’m not sure why there is
so much tension between the two of us right now.

“Because
you’re my friend and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he mumbles with a
pained expression.

“You
have nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine,” I assure him.

We finish
our lunch not discussing Nate or dinner tonight. Evan apologizes for not coming
over yesterday. He tells me he had to meet with his mechanic, but when I ask
what was wrong with his truck, he says it’s fine. I try to tell him it’s not
necessary to have lunch with me every day, nor does he have to explain where
he’s been. He proceeds to clarify how he enjoys eating lunch with me and would
like to do it as often as I’ll allow him. Even though I wonder why he would
want to have lunch with me so often, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as hard
as possible without drawing blood. He doesn’t need to see me smile over this.

Now
that we’ve finished lunch, I can’t help but feel a little upset that he’ll be
leaving soon. Before I can come up with a reason he should stay, Evan drags a
stool over to where the ingredients are waiting on the counter. “Mind if I sit
and watch this disaster waiting to happen?” He’s mocking my ability to bake.
Unfortunately, he isn’t too far off.

“I
wouldn’t get too close,” I tell him, happy that he’s going to hang around.
“There’s a reason Jade doesn’t let me in the kitchen when she cooks.”

Evan
shakes his head. “So why didn’t you just buy something for dessert like any
normal person would do then?”

I
shrug my shoulders. “Where’s the adventure in that?”

“I
almost feel bad your friend will have to eat this.”

“Watch
it,” I warn, making him laugh. I start to measure out the flour, cocoa powder,
baking powder, and baking soda, then dump them into the large mixing bowl in
front of me. Once they are all mixed together, I set the bowl aside and begin
to mix the butter, eggs, and vanilla together. The next thing the instructions
say to do is gradually add in the sugar. “Why can’t I just dump all of it in at
the same time?” I’m mostly asking myself, but he has to add in his two cents.

“Probably
to make it easier to mix, or so it doesn’t go all over the place when you stir
it.” I should try harder at keeping my thoughts to myself.

“How
the hell do you know?”

Evan
laughs, yet again. “Just seems logical.”

“Shut
up,” I say, turning on the mixer to drown him out. He gets off the stool and
comes around behind me. Looking over my shoulder, he reads the recipe and
starts adding the remaining ingredients when necessary. Careful to make sure my
fingers don’t get caught in the mixer, I try to concentrate on the task in
front of me rather than how close Evan is. His arm keeps brushing against mine
when he grabs something which, more than likely, is done deliberately. Whenever
he reaches over to pour more flour into the bowl, he’ll place his other hand on
my hip, pretending to balance himself. My breath gets caught in my throat. My
heart is pounding in my chest. The only thought running through my head is how
much I want him right here in the fucking kitchen.

The
next thing I know, Evan is taking the mixer out of my hand and turning it off.
In a low voice, he says in my ear, “I think it’s done.” Glancing down at the
bowl, the batter is smooth and creamy. Damn him! How the hell does he do this
shit to me? I grab the bowl and start pouring the mixture into the first
greased cake pan. “Aren’t you going to taste it first?” Evan asks. When I look
up, he points to the bowl. “That’s the best part. Besides, you have to make
sure it’s not missing anything.”

“You
think I’d be able to figure out what it needs if it was?” I ask, still trying
to clear my head of how his hands were just all over me.

He
picks up a teaspoon off the counter, scoops up some batter, then holds it out
for me. “Try it.”

I
take a little off the tip of the utensil. “It tastes fine to me.”

Then
he puts the spoon into his mouth, eating what’s left. “It’s delicious, although
it could be
you
I taste,” he says with that damn sexy smirk on his
overly handsome face.

Immediately,
I turn my back to him and continue filling the other two cake pans. “If it was
me you tasted, you would have already been asking for more.” Hopefully, my
words sound as confident as the remark he just made.

Again,
he’s right behind me, close enough that his entire body is pressed up against
mine. Evan puts his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of my hips,
holding me there. “You are definitely the cockiest chick I’ve ever met.”

I
grip the wooden spoon and the mixing bowl even tighter. “If you don’t like it,
you can always find someone else to have lunch with,” I say, keeping my eyes
straight ahead. Those words definitely came out more timid than I meant.

Evan
pries the spoon out of my hand, places it in the bowl before removing it from
my opposite hand, then puts them on the counter. I feel his hands go to my hips
as he slowly spins me around. His fingers brush lightly along the top of my
shorts as I turn. Facing him might just make my heart rip through the front of
my chest. The smirk is gone and his eyes are hooded. “You seem to be the only
one I want to have lunch with these days.” I wonder if he’s still talking about
lunch, or if he’s referring to something else. Something else sounds really
good right about now.

“Then
I guess you’ll just have to get used to my cockiness.”

“I’ll
see what I can do,” he murmurs as he lightly runs his fingertips along my
sides, then pulls away from me. He shoves his hand through his hair as if he’s
irritated about something. “I need to get to Skyline. There’s some shit I need
to get ready for tonight.”

“Okay.”
I can hear the disappointment in my response and hope he didn’t catch it.
“Thanks for bringing lunch,” I add, trying to cover it up.

He
smiles at me. “Anytime.” As he backs out of the kitchen, he sarcastically adds,
“Good luck on your date tonight.” I grab the closest spoon and throw it at him.
He ducks just in time, causing him to laugh. “You may not be able to cook, but
you sure can throw. I’ll have to remember that. See ya!” he calls out as he
leaves. Damn him, again!

Once
the cake is cooling and the homemade buttercream icing is ready, I find myself
out in the garden for the third time this week. Being out here makes me feel
better, almost like I’m closer to Gram. Many shades of purple, pink, and
yellow, combined with the white from the daisies, make this wildflower garden
absolutely beautiful. When Gram and I first started planting our garden, we
both agreed wildflowers were perfect. Getting the spot ready was the hardest
part. You have to make sure the area is as free from weeds as possible or they
will take over. Maintenance is very low for a wildflower garden, so we got to
spend more time simply enjoying it. It covers the whole back of the property,
except for where the steps leading to the dock interrupt it. On the one end,
there’s the white wooden swing. There’s also a birdbath and various different
kinds of feeders hanging around. I filled those the other day. Gram would never
let them go empty. She loved watching all the different kinds of birds that
would come through the yard. Last summer, we discussed putting in a pond out
here, but Gram decided to wait until I came home. Now, I don’t want to do it
without her.

Eventually,
the hot sun forces me to go inside and shower before Nate comes over. Picking
out something to wear proves to be harder than anticipated. The first four tops
I try on are entirely too revealing. Do I own any clothes that aren’t slutty? I
settle for layering a light blue cami underneath a black low-cut t-shirt, and
my denim shorts. Feeling that I’m adequately covered, I grab a pair of my flip
flops out of the closet, then go downstairs. All three layers of the cake are
cool, so I spread the icing over them and assemble it on the glass server.
After placing the cover over it, I set the whole thing on the far counter
thinking how it would be more enjoyable to share the cake with a certain
someone who isn’t Nate.

A
few minutes before seven, the doorbell rings. Unlike earlier, I leisurely
stroll over to open the door. “Hey,” Nate says when I finally get there. He’s
holding takeout from our favorite Italian place and a bouquet of red roses. He
still doesn’t get I’m not the kind of girl who likes roses.