Wildflower (Colors #4) (12 page)

Jesus, it was like I was a teenager all over again and had no fucking control over my own body. It was in that very moment I questioned how I managed to go even a day, let alone nearly six years without her in my life. Getting her back wasn’t just something I
wanted
. It was necessary. I’d been stuck living half a life since the day she walked away from me. I was ready to be whole again.

I just needed to find a way to convince her she felt the same.

Not wanting her to catch me totally creeping on her, I cleared my throat loudly to announce my presence.

Her body gave a startled jolt. “Oh, God,” she breathed as she spun around, hand to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me,” she laughed nervously.

I uncrossed my arms and lifted my hands in surrender as I smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just heard the news and wanted to come congratulate you.”

I hated the fact that her smile was still hesitant when aimed in my direction. I had hoped we’d moved past that after having spent Thanksgiving together, but obviously there were still some misgivings on her part.

“Thanks,” she offered as she scanned the room again. “God, it doesn’t look like it changed a bit since the last time I was here.”

Taking her words to mean that she was open to conversation, I pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room, mindful to keep my hands in my pockets as I approached. The temptation to reach out and run my fingers across her cheekbone just to see if her skin was as soft as I remembered was too strong. I didn’t fully trust myself.

“Yeah, not much has changed in this place, really.”

“Oh look!” Harlow declared as she pointed to the back wall that was covered in photographs that had been taped in place. “It’s still here. I remember taping this one up myself.”

Following her to the wall, I leaned in to see what picture she was pointing at. I had no clue how she spotted it in the hodgepodge of pictures that covered every inch of the wall’s white surface, but sure enough, a picture of her and Chloe hung in the center of the collage. They were hugging tightly as they smiled excitedly into the camera, the crowd around them had their arms raised in celebration. I remembered the exact day that picture was taken. It was the Homecoming game our senior year. Chloe and Harlow had been in the stands for the whole thing. That picture was taken right after we won the game, twenty-four to zero, kicking our rival school’s ass.

The memory replayed in my mind with so much clarity it could have happened the day before. As the crowd cheered, Harlow had rushed the field, throwing herself in my arms before I even had a chance to remove my helmet. I remembered feeling like I was the luckiest fucker on the planet. We’d won the game and I had the most gorgeous girl wrapped around me. Life couldn’t have gotten any better for me back then. I thought every day would be as good as that moment.

I was so wrong about that.

I let my gaze travel from that picture of her and Chloe, hoping that the one that had been taped up next to it years ago was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it.

Pointing at the photograph next to it, I said, “You taped this one up too, remember?”

I heard her surprised gasp as she leaned in closer, so close I could smell her intoxicating scent, the vague smell of flowers combined with a hint of vanilla. Unmistakably Harlow. God I missed that smell.

It was almost impossible to tear my eyes from the picture, from the past, when things were happier and my life didn’t feel like it was stuck in a holding pattern that only one person could pull me out of.

The person standing next to me.

We looked so happy. Harlow’s arms were wrapped around my neck as I held tight to her waist, lifting her feet off the ground. I was holding my helmet in my free hand and neither of us were looking at the camera. Harlow was staring down at me, her smile radiating with happiness as I smiled up at her. The strong love I felt for her reflected clear as day from my eyes. My stomach sank as I recalled that it had only been a few months after that photo was taken that things had turned so wrong. I would have given anything to go back in time.

To do things right.

To not lose her.

Harlow’s soft sniffle pulled me back from the past. I turned to see her hazel gaze staring intensely at the picture, holding so much sorrow it felt like a knife had just stabbed me in the chest.

“I broke us,” I said in a low voice as I turned back to the wall. “And there hasn’t been a day that’s passed that I haven’t been sorry for it.”

“Noah,” she pleaded, but I needed to get it out.

I pulled in a deep breath and faced her. “I know I’ve apologized, but I need to know that you get it. That you understand exactly what I’m sorry for and just how fucking sorry I really am, wildflower. The best thing that ever happened in my life was you. I took that for granted. I wasted it. And I’ve regretted it from the moment you walked away from me. I need to know that you forgive me, sweetheart.”

Clenching her eyes closed tightly, Harlow breathed in deeply before blowing the air out through her full lips. The sadness had lessened when she opened her lids once again, but small fragments of it still lingered.

“I forgive you.”

Just those three words spoken in her melodic voice were enough to lighten the crushing weight I’d been carrying around for more than half a decade. She forgave me. My path to winning her back was still long and twisted, but at the very least, her forgiveness had given me a starting point.

“Is this going to be weird?” she asked, pulling her plump bottom lip between her teeth, she bit down nervously. “Us both working here?”

“Not for me, wildflower.”

“You’re sure?”

I took a step closer, making sure I had her full attention. “Seeing you every day is something I’ve been craving for the past five years. You working here isn’t going to be weird for me. I’m fucking
thrilled
about it.”

I gave myself just a brief moment to take in the way her chest rose and fell on her sharp inhale. Her curves had only gotten fuller, sexier in the past years, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them again. I couldn’t
wait
to see what other parts of her body had changed. But I knew I’d pushed her to the limit for today. If I went any further, I ran the risk of her shutting down. So before that could happen I backed toward the door, grinning wickedly.

“See you tomorrow, wildflower.”

Then I left, praying to whatever Gods were out there that my words packed a powerful punch she wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Ugh!” Flopping onto my back, I stared up at the patterns cast across my ceiling by the moon glowing through my bedroom curtains. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I whisper-shouted into the darkness surrounding me. I lifted my head from my pillow and glared at the alarm clock telling me it was 3:12 in the freaking morning.

I needed sleep. Sleep that refused to come because I couldn’t stop replaying my encounter with Noah in the photography classroom a few days ago.

“Seeing you every day is something I’ve been craving for the past five years. You working here isn’t going to be weird for me. I’m fucking thrilled about it.”

Ah, hell. He just had to go and say something like that, didn’t he?

To make matters worse, the stupid jerk walked away from me after delivering that particularly well-placed blow.

Days passed and I still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

“Seeing you every day is something I’ve been craving for the past five years. You working here isn’t going to be weird for me. I’m fucking thrilled about it.”

Jeez, that was hot
.

“No it wasn’t,” I reprimanded myself. “It wasn’t hot. It was dumb. Not hot.
Dumb
.”

Nope,
my brain teased.
It was hot as hell
.

Running my hands through my hair, I sighed. “Jesus Christ. Now I’m arguing with myself in the middle of the night. I’ve lost my damn mind.”

Kicking at the sheets twisted around my legs in frustration, I sat up in bed, finally admitting defeat.

Noah Induced Insomnia – 1

Harlow – 0

Deciding to do something constructive with my sleeplessness, I walked over to my closet and threw it open, standing up on my tiptoes to reach for what I needed on the top shelf. I hadn’t touched it in forever. I made my way over to the bedside table and flipped on the lamp, my camera bag held tightly against my chest like a baby.

I guess that would have been an accurate analogy considering I loved that camera as if it were a living thing. I remembered how excited I was the day Grammy gave it to me. I’d only recently discovered my love for photography and Grammy had saved up as much as she could to get me the Nikon. It was noticeably used when she gave it to me, but the previous owner had taken good care of it and I thought that added character to the old camera. So I loved it.

Smiling down as I pulled it from the case, I recalled how I spent hours and hours roaming through the woods and up the mountains looking for the best shots of the beauty of nature that surrounded Pembrooke. Nature photography had always been a favorite of mine and there wasn’t a place on earth with more stunning scenery than the small town.

As I held it up and looked through the viewfinder, I was amazed to feel the love I once had for taking photographs seeping back into me. It had been forever since I felt that way.

Placing the camera back in the bag, I carried it down the stairs and sat it on the table next to my purse so I wouldn’t forget it as I made my way to the kitchen with a loud yawn.

I wasn’t what one would consider a morning person on a
good
day. Sleep deprived meant you wanted to stay at least twenty feet away from me at all times. And considering tomorrow—well, technically today—was my first day as a high school teacher, I was going to have to seriously load up on all things caffeine to prevent causing bodily harm to a bunch of teenagers.

The coffee pot was definitely calling my name.

I was in the seventh circle of hell. There was no doubt about it. And I’d just spent the first half of my day surrounded by Satan’s minions—also known as teenagers.

Pushing my way through the door of the teacher’s lounge, I was too frazzled to fully appreciate the fact that I was walking into what was once considered an unknown, mystical land by me and all my friends back when we attended high school. We’d always been curious to see what that room looked like. We were convinced that was where the teachers went to sneak booze and smokes between classes. We even came up with stories about clandestine hookups between the married music teacher and basketball coach happening in that room. Leave it to a bunch of clueless kids to turn a teacher’s lounge into an orgy den.

Unfortunately, the reality of the room was much less exciting than we’d built it up to be. But it had a coffee pot. That was all that mattered in that very moment.

“Oh, thank you, Jesus,” I muttered under my breath as I filled a Styrofoam cup and lifted it up, sniffing gratefully. It didn’t smell the best, but I was sure it would do the job. I heard the door to the lounge open just as I parted my lips for my first sip.