Page 26 of Can’t Say No

Connor rolls his eyes. “Dating in this town is a minefield. Anyone who’s single I’ve either taught or graduated with.”

He stands to start cleaning, and I stand to pour one more glass.

Connor crosses his arms, surveying the tidy kitchen. “I put some breakfast stuff in the fridge, and more fruits and veggies. Contrary to popular belief, you can’t survive on air and wine.”

I laugh, fully tipsy now. “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

He shakes his head and walks out the back door.

And as I watch him go through the window above the sink, I give myself until he fades from view to daydream, just a little, about a quiet little life with a man like Connor in a quiet town like Ridgecrest

Another maladaptive behavior my therapist will love hearing about.

10

CONNOR

The shrill sound of a whistle cuts through the air, and pressure builds behind my eyes, threatening to turn into a full-blown headache. A long day of teaching combined with sticky late-August Tennessee humidity is the perfect breeding ground for a migraine.

But I’m a sucker who can’t say no, so for the third year in a row, I’m timing sprints and logging data for Coach Carl, the athletic director.

“Need a drink?” Simon ambles over to the dinky folding chair I’ve commandeered, an ice-cold Gatorade in hand.

I gladly accept it. “What are you doing here? Mr. Asbury not keeping you busy enough with the swim team?”

He shrugs. “I’ve got a little extra time. Figured I may as well fill it with track. I’m fast enough to not suck.”

I laugh. He’s got that right. I’m plenty tall, but the senior still has a solid inch on me. I can’t think of a sport Simon wouldn’t excel at.

“Well, I’m timing the 400-meter. Want to give it a go?”

Simon nods and gets situated on the start line across from my foldout chair while I pull out my stopwatch.

I give him a nod. “Ready when you are.”

He takes off down the track, lanky limbs flying. As Simon rounds the first curve, a head of shiny blonde hair moving towards the field catches my eye

I crane my neck for a better look, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Sweating my ass off.” Delaney is wearing a simple grey, knee length-dress with buttons running all the way down the front. Major librarian vibes. I hate how much I’m into it.

“You won the bet. You don’t need to be here,” I say as she pulls up another folding chair beside mine and sits down.

“I only won because you let me. And besides, you’re my ride until my car gets back from the shop. It was either come sweat it out with you down here or run more errands for Mrs. Crane. She’s something else.” Delaney shakes her head, a little laugh bubbling out. “Not sure how I’m gonna survive a whole semester with her.”

“So what I’m hearing is I’m the lesser of two evils.”

“Precisely.” Delaney beams over at me. “And this seems like as good of an opportunity as any to soft-launch our relationship on my socials.”

She whips her phone out and takes a series of close-angle shots: our feet in the grass, a side view of my elbows resting on my knees, and then, to my surprise, she lays her hand on my thigh and snaps a picture.

My breathing stills. For a second, I’m not sure I’m alive as her delicate fingers curve ever so slightly around my inner thigh.

And shit, if this is what does me in, what a hell of a way to go.

I clear my throat and she moves her hand away. “Uh, soft launch?” I ask.

Delaney rolls her eyes. “Connor, you spend all day with teenagers and you’re still not up on the lingo? A soft launch is when you post just a little bit of your partner, like their hand or the back of their head. It’s a tease before a grand reveal post. We’ve got the whole thing timed out.”