Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(45)

“So what is there to plan?”

“Last night was a culmination of everything that happened two years ago. It was emotional. We were both hurting and had things that needed to be said. Maybe instead of it being a new start, it was closure.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that.”

My sister comes around the corner. “I’m calling bullshit too.”

“Way to eavesdrop, Tor.”

She drops her backpack behind the couch and plops down next to me. “I was in his class, Nicky.

I seriously don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy so happy.”

My heart does a backflip. “He was happy?”

“That might be a slight understatement. I swear to God I saw him skip down the hallway. Who the hell skips? It totally gave me secondhand embarrassment.”

It’s painfully hard to try to contain my smile.

“See?” Paige says. “You have your answer. It definitely wasn’t closure.”

“Even if it wasn’t, we’re still right back where we were. My job here is temporary. His is permanent. He loves it here, and I would never ask him to leave. Even if he volunteered to, I wouldn’t let him. He’d never be happy anywhere else.” I get up and pace the carpet. “I should cancel dinner. I don’t want to lead him on.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Victoria asks. “Erm, four times?”

“Jeez, Tori, how long were you listening?”

“You should move back here,” she says. “It’s the only solution.”

Paige huffs. “But then she would be unhappy. Why is it the woman who always has to give something up?”

“Either way, one of us would be unhappy.” I sigh. “That’s why this will never work.”

“You’re killing this before you even give it a chance?” Paige asks. “Forbes, you aren’t half as smart as I thought you were.”

“It’s better to do it now than drag it out and end up in the very same place we were two years ago.”

Paige stands and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Or perhaps you’ll end up getting everything you’ve ever wanted. Nic, give it a chance. Don’t go back to Oklahoma with even more regrets.”

I rub my eyes, knowing she’s right. “I have to go get ready, and there’s an errand I need to run.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Tori asks.

“Honestly? I have no idea.”



~



Hands—shaking.

Heart—racing.

Mouth—dry.

Why am I so nervous?

Jaxon opens the door before I get a chance to knock. Heisman greets me first, rounding my feet and then sitting, begging for a pat. I kneel. “Hey, bud.” I reach into my bag and pull something out. “I brought you this.” I look up at Jaxon. “I hope it’s okay.”

“A sleeve of tennis balls? I think you just became his new favorite person.”

A heavenly smell wafts out the front door. I stand. “Is that…?”

He holds the door open. “It is.”

“Since when do you cook?”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” He laughs. “Okay, one. There’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“But lasagna? I tried to teach you a dozen times. You could never get the noodles quite right.”

“Maybe I never wanted to.”

I cock my head.

“Watching you cook was one of my favorite things to do.”

He leads us into the kitchen, where I hand over the bottle of wine. “Good thing I got red. It’ll pair well.”

A low whistle escapes him when he examines it. “Nice bottle. Were you expecting the Pope?”

“Did I overstep? And I definitely didn’t intend to—”

“Parade your very fat bank account in front of the guy who teaches high schoolers?”

Guilt consumes me.

“It’s okay, Nic. I’m kidding. Anytime you want to bring over a bottle of Caymus, be my guest. I’ll cook.”

“What do you make besides lasagna?”

“Take your pick. I make a killer pot roast. My tacos are to die for. And I’ve perfected grilling steaks. Did you know the secret is to sear them for a minute on both sides? It locks in the flavor.”

“I didn’t know that. Looks like bachelorhood suits you.” I regret the comment as soon as it leaves my mouth. “I mean… God, I didn’t intend to be so awkward.”

He retrieves two wineglasses, then leans against the counter, a smirk crawling up his jaw. “Are you nervous, Nicky?”

I let out a sigh. “Yes. Is that strange?”

He opens the wine and sets it on the counter to breathe. “I changed three times before you came over.”

My eyes wander over him. He’s wearing a blue button-up, sleeves casually rolled to the elbows.

It matches his eyes. I always told him I loved him in blue. His black jeans fit snugly in all the right places. His slightly long and roguish hair surely makes him the product of all his female students’

fantasies. How is he even more gorgeous today than he was a few years ago?