Page 6 of Can’t Say No

I find a spot near the wall and do my best to blend in when I hear it. A laugh, deep and carefree, wafts down the hall and into the room. It unlocks a memory I’ve buried deep. Me at twelve, running barefoot through the field behind my house, laughing until my sides hurt, chasing my best friend.

My former best friend.

The man responsible for the warm memory steps into the faculty lounge, and I’m met with a face I haven’t seen in years. Brown skin, deep chestnut-colored eyes, and the most gentle smile I’ve ever known.

Connor Majors.

I wondered briefly if he would be here, if his childhood dream of turning his love of reading into a career had come true, but I pushed the thought aside and convinced myself there was no way he had actually stayed and become an English teacher at Ridgecrest High.

The last time I saw him, we were eighteen. My parents made a big show of parading me around town the week of graduation. They flew me back, had me march across the stage, do the whole song and dance for publicity.

Rising Star Earns Her High School Diploma and First Grammy Nod in the Same Year.

The press ate that shit up.

Connor had been there bravely sitting with my parents at the Boyd Prep commencement ceremony, then slipped away without a word.

At first, I’d invite him to every show. Then I only called when I was up the road in Nashville. After my last few calls were sent straight to voicemail, I’d stopped altogether. I don’t remember who sent the last text—did I leave him on read or was it him to stop replying to me? Either way, years of silence stretch between us now.

The Connor I remember had always been handsome in an adorable sort of way, with limbs a little bit lanky, a smile a little bit goofy. But age did wonders. The Connor I see now is a few inches taller, a hell of a lot broader, and a far cry from adorable.

This Connor is hot.

And walking right towards me.

A hesitant smile plays on his lips, like he’s afraid to spook me by showing too much excitement.

A correct assumption.

“Connor.”

His name feels foreign leaving my mouth after all these years. We grew up side by side, his dad’s apple orchard sharing a property line with my family’s land, and we spent hours together playing among the trees, bugging his older siblings, or escaping up to Crescent Lake. We were inseparable.

“Delaney.”

He stops short, his eyes trailing over me like he’s not one hundred percent sure it’s really me.

“You’re here,” he says simply.

“I’m here.”

I shift, sizing him up in a similar fashion.

Kind eyes, steady presence, and a hint of mischief? Check, check, and check.

Yup, it’s the real Connor Majors.

He shifts his weight on his toes, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his slacks.

“How have you been?”

I quirk an eyebrow at that. “Small talk, really? Are you gonna make a comment about the weather next?”

His small grin creeps into a full blown smile. “It has been an exceptionally hot summer this year.”

That goofy smile melts the ice and I let him pull me into a tight hug. It’s a familiar comfort mixed with something new, a sharper edge that hits me somewhere deep in my chest. Sadness, I realize, for all the silent years between us. But I refuse to let the feeling take root.

Ten weeks, and then I’m out of here. No need to dredge up bad memories or hurt feelings. Let bygones be bygones, or whatever. We can be cordial, friendly even, without needing to retrace all the missteps we took before our friendship faded.