Out Of The Ashes (22 page)

“Where the hell have you been dressed like that?” I asked her.

I had assumed she’d been at the library or the coffeehouse studying. But not dressed like that.

She shook her head distractedly. “No, don’t deflect. What happened with Clay?”

I huffed an angry sigh, sitting up and pulling the blanket around my shoulders. “He stood me up.”

“He what?” Gillian’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “He wouldn’t do that.”

I shot her an irritated look. “Do you see him here?”

“Did you text him?”

“No!” I was indignant. “Why should I? He knew we had plans. He broke them, without even so much as a message. Lord knows where he is or what he’s doing. He’s probably with Hannah.”

“Paige,” Gillian sat down next to me, her light brown curls waving softly around her face. “You don’t really believe that, do you? You know he’s not interested in Hannah. He’s in love with you.”

I sniffed. “People don’t usually stand up someone they’re in love with. I made dinner and everything, Gillian. Imagine how stupid I felt scraping the uneaten food into the trash after I waited over an hour for him to walk through that door.”

She squeezed my shoulders and listened.

“I mean really. This is why I didn’t want to be in a relationship. People always end up hurting you…or leaving you.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said. “I still think you should text him. Give him the benefit of the doubt. I think he’s earned that much, don’t you?”

I stared stubbornly at the television.

“Paige,” she said softly. “This is your man we’re talking about. He hasn’t contacted you at all. Wouldn’t you kill yourself later if something happened to him and you didn’t even check in?”

“No,” I grumbled. But I knew she was right. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table just as it dinged.

“See?” Gillian said brightly. “Here comes the valid explanation.” She headed down the hallway. “I’m going to change. Come get in bed with me when you find out what happened with Clay.”

I stared at my phone. Then I rubbed my eyes and checked again. My mouth dropped open in shock as Beau’s name filled the screen.

What was my ex-boyfriend doing texting me? We hadn’t spoken since just after the fire, when I broke up with him in my hospital room. I knew then that my recovery was going to be a lengthy process, and I didn’t want to drag him down with me. So I broke his heart and let him go.

At the time, I hadn’t expected him to stay away, and my own heart had broken in return.

Beau: Paige? Is this still you?

Still in shock, I texted back.

Paige: It’s been awhile Beau. It’s still me.

I hoped nothing had happened to his family, or someone we knew from school. I couldn’t think for the life of me why else he might be contacting me.

Paige: Is everything ok?

Beau: Everything is fine. No worries. I was just thinking about you.

That was stranger than strange. He texted me out of the blue after over a year of no contact because he was thinking about me?

Paige: Why?

It took a good five minutes before he wrote back.

Beau: Because I miss you, Paige.

Oh, crap. He wasn’t going to do this to me now. I was over my relationship with Beau. We’d known each other since grade school and were friends before we were a couple. But that night in the hospital room was closure for me. I’d told him I was setting him free, and I’d meant it.

My phone rang and I groaned.

“Beau? It’s late. Have you been drinking?”

“Maybe,” he drawled. It was surprisingly good to hear Beau’s voice. He was a southern boy through and through, and his deep country drawl was comforting.

“Just a little,” he continued. “That’s not why I’m calling you, Paige. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Word around town is that you’re just up the road in Rutherford. That true?”

“Yeah, Beau. It’s true.” I sighed.

“Why’d I have to hear it from someone else?”

“Look, Beau--“

“Don’t play me, Paige. I know you better than that. I miss you. When you made me leave that hospital room…I left that place broken that night, Paige. You broke me. You’re the only girl that ever had the power to do that, you know.”

“I’m so sorry, Beau. I wanted to help you. I didn’t want to drag you down. There was a long hard road ahead of me.”

“And you thought I was the kind of guy who wouldn’t stick by you through that?” His voice broke.

“I knew you were the kind of guy who would, Beau. That was the problem. No seventeen-year-old boy should have to go through that with anyone. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

“Dammit, Paige!” He was nearly shouting. “Don’t you think I had the right to make that decision?”

I was quiet, hearing the still-fresh pain in his voice. Maybe I had robbed him. At this time, I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“I want to come and see you,” he said bluntly.

“That’s not a good idea, Beau.”

“Why the hell not?”

I tried and failed to think of a way to tell him about Clay.

“Paige. Please don’t tell me you went and got yourself a man. Please don’t tell me that.”

“Beau--“

He groaned. “Is it serious?”

“It could be.”

He was silent. I could hear his breathing from the other end of the line. I pictured him sitting on the back of his truck, legs dangling over the back hatch. He’d have a six-pack of Coors sitting next to him.

“Do you love him?” he asked quietly.

“Do you really want to know?” I asked.

“Hell, no. I mean, yes. I need to know.”

“I love him, Beau”

His answering deep exhalation grabbed me from the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You know what?” he asked. “You don’t need to be sorry, Paige. You healed, you moved on. You’re in a new town, you started school. You met a new man. You don’t need to apologize for that.”

“Thank you, Beau.”

“But you know what? I reckon you love me, too. You’ve just forgotten about it. I can remind you. Hell, it’s not like you’re married or something.”

I groaned in frustration. “Don’t do this to me, Beau. What we had is in the past.”

He chuckled. “That’s only because I haven’t had the sense to become a part of your present yet. But that’s going to change, Paige. That new man of yours has a world of trouble comin’ his way. I promise.”

“Beau Reynolds, don’t you start--“

He let out a rumble of laughter. “Damn, I missed you girl. I can’t wait to show you how much.”

The line clicked and went dead. I stared at my phone, wondering if that conversation had really just taken place.

If Beau Reynolds had put his mind into winning me back, I was definitely in a whole heap of trouble.

My phone dinged again. I checked it, expecting Beau once more.

Clay: So sorry babe. Got caught up in sumthin. Forgive me plz.

Angry disbelief colored my world red. I spent an hour cooking a dinner I thought he’d love, waited over an hour for him, and he was finally texting me to give me the excuse of what? He got caught up in something? That explained absolutely nothing. He wanted me to forgive him? He didn’t even give me an excuse worth forgiving!

While I silently ranted, my phone dinged again.

Clay: I know you r pissed. Plz hold off on judging me til I can C U 2 explain. I love U.

I threw my phone on the table, put a plush pillow over my face, and screamed into it with a ferocity that left me breathless.

Thirty-One

Paige

“Your mom’s in town?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s why you stood me up? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? I waited hours for you, Clay.”

I folded my arms across my chest and watched him expectantly.

“Paige, I swear to you. I would have sent you a message or called you if my mom hadn’t been on a warpath. She was in town to find out why I was following in my father’s footsteps and treating Hannah so badly.”

My mouth dropped open before I could stop myself. “Wait, what? What does Hannah have to do with anything?”

Clay took a deep breath. “My mother thinks Hannah is my girlfriend.”

I threw up my hands and turned, preparing to stomp away from him.

The thin, naked branches of the once-full trees sent a smattering of shadows across the brick sidewalk on campus.

I was still shaken from my conversation last night with Beau. I had debated whether I should tell Clay about it. At this moment, we had enough to worry about.

Clay reached for my arm and I whirled around. “Are you kidding me, Clay? You haven’t bothered to tell your mom that you aren’t actually dating Hannah, and that you are actually dating me? This relationship means that much to you, huh?”

He recoiled at my statement. “Paige! Of course our relationship is important to me. You mean absolutely everything to me. I’m not close with my mom. I try not to tell her about anything that’s going on in my life, or she’ll try to bulldoze right through it, adjusting my feelings and making decisions for me. Why do you think I went so far away from home to attend U of R? It was to put distance between me and my fucked up parents!”

I took a deep breath and I knew he could see my icy anger thawing. “You don’t talk to your parents?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head adamantly. “I don’t. And I will explain why later. Right now I just need you to know how sorry I am about last night. You come first, and I was trying to protect you. You don’t need to be exposed to my mom right now. That’s the last thing I want.”

I sighed. “Okay, Clay. I still wish you’d sent me a message or called, but I understand family issues better than anyone. Where’s your mom now?”

“After I had breakfast with her this morning, I got her to split town by suggesting that she needed to be home to keep an eye on my dad.”

“So she’s gone.”

“Yes, she’s gone.”

“How did she know to come to town in the first place? I mean, if you don’t talk to her? Oh…”

Realization dawned on my face like a sunrise. An angry, fiery sunrise.

“That bitch. She called your mother?”

Clay cringed. “Yeah, she did. And as soon as I see her, I swear--“

“Hello, Paige.” My boss, Dr. Schilling stopped in front of us.

We were on campus, standing in front of the dining hall. Clay texted me earlier this morning, asking me to meet him here. Still In a fury from last night, I had gladly obliged in order to ream him out.

“Hello, Dr. Schilling,” I replied. “How are you?”

“I think the more important question is, how are you?” he replied.

“She’s fine,” Clay snapped. “We’re actually having an important conversation here, so if you don’t mind…”

Dr. Schilling pushed his lustrous black hair away from his forehead and straightened the stiff collar on his striped button-down.

He didn’t acknowledge Clay as he said, “You look upset. Is something wrong?”

I glanced at Clay, worried his jealousy would get the better of him. I saw his hands ball into fists and answered quickly.

“Oh, I’m fine professor. Just a little misunderstanding.”

Dr. Schilling finally turned to acknowledge Clay, frowning. “Is this a pattern? Every other time I see Paige with you, she’s upset about something you’ve done. Why is that?”

“Listen, you--“ Clay began.

“I’m okay, Dr. Schilling,” I repeated, cutting Clay off quickly. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry. Today is my day off, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I glanced at Clay, whose face was turning an interesting shade of purple.

Dr. Schilling noticed. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure,” I smiled. “See you later.”

I grabbed Clay’s arm and practically dragged him toward the parking lot.

“I can’t believe that son of a bitch!” he spluttered when we were safely walking away. “I’m serious Paige, that dude is after something. I don’t trust him.”

I shrugged. “He’s my boss. He just cares about my well-being, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s all,” Clay muttered.

He unlocked the doors to his SUV as we approached it, and opened my door for me. After helping me climb up to the seat, he shut my door and walked around to his side.

“I don’t want you working for him anymore,” he informed me.

“You don’t get a vote,” I said calmly.

“What do you mean, I don’t get a vote? I’m your boyfriend.”

“Exactly. You’re my boyfriend, not my father. You don’t tell me where I can or can’t work, Clay.”

“Paige--“

I leaned over and pressed my lips to his neck, kissing him tenderly, my lips hot against his skin.

Clay froze. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Shutting you up,” I murmured against his neck as I trailed my tongue in a light circle under his ear. “Is it working?”

He grabbed my hand and placed it over the zipper of his jeans, demonstrating just how well it was working.

“What do you think?” he asked in a strained voice. He turned his head to meet my lips, and then all of the tension from our fight melted away in a kiss. His lips moved over mine gently, his tongue begging entrance to my mouth. I opened for him, and he massaged the inside of my lips and the front of my teeth with his tongue before it tangled with mine.

I moaned, using my free hand to rub his head. The other hand fumbled with the zipper of his jeans. I wanted to feel how much he wanted me. He let me get as far as moving his zipper downward, and then he grabbed my hand.