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“It is, but the worst is past us. No more sirens. Just a lot of rain.”
She chewed her lip. “There’s a front coming through. More storms could pop up. I heard the weatherman say that last night.”
“That part’s done. I promise.” She gave her knee a little squeeze. “Classes are almost over for the day. I thought I’d bring you to Bluebonnet instead of riding the bus today. How’s that sound?”
She glanced toward Mr. Craig then back t
o Oakley. Oakley could tell Reagan was having that debate between two things that stressed her out—facing the rain, which would mean breaking her routine, or being left here to ride in the storm on the bus alone.
“I’ll go with you.”
Oakley nodded. “Okay, baby. Let’s get your bag and head out. I know the kids at Bluebonnet will be ready to start working on the new song once school lets out. You can get a jump start.”
Oakley helped her gather her things, but Reagan wasn’t giving up the headphones. She wanted them just in case any sirens went off while they were driving. And when they left the offices, Reagan made Oakley walk to the other side of the school to exit through the doors she’d normally leave out of to get to the bus. On a different day, Oakley may have urged her daughter to try to go against the routine, to go out a different door. But Rae was so on edge already, it was worth traipsing a few more yards through the flooded parking lot to avoid the added stress or possible meltdown. She’d learned to choose her battles.
Luckily, besides the rumbling thunder, the drive to Bluebonnet was quiet. Reagan listened to her music and kept her eyes closed. Oakley prepared herself for a trying evening. Once Reagan had a bad episode, the rest of the day was usually a loss, leaving her emotional and edgy. The only Reset button was a low-key evening and a good night’s sleep. But they wouldn’t get to that part until after rehearsals at Bluebonnet with Pike.
Pike.
Oakley rolled her shoulders to try to loosen some of the tension. She hadn’t talked to Pike much over the last few days. He’d been busy and any exchanges had been texts about the project. But he’d promised to be there this afternoon to help get one of the original songs the kids had chosen in shape.
The kids would be excited, but nerves had her gripping the steering wheel harder as she got closer to the center. Her and Pike’s last night on the phone had been more than a silly fantasy thing like the first time. Way too intimate and personal. They’d slept together over the phone. How was she supposed to face him after that?
She didn’t have any extra time to prepare for it, though. Because when she walked into the music room, Pike was already there. Bradley, their aspiring drummer, was sitting in front of the drum kit, and Pike was instructing him on how to loosen his arms so he could move from snare to cymbal more quickly. Bradley, normally Mr. Tough Guy, looked ready to pee his pants. Guess she wasn’t the only one nervous around Pike.
Pike glanced up, noticing her for the first time, and for half a beat, there was a flare of naked, open desire. She sucked in a breath, but as soon as the look was there, it was gone. A good-natured smile replaced the heat. “Looks like Noah’s Ark dropped y’all off.”
Reagan didn’t say anything. Instead, she clutched her iPod to her chest and walked away to sit against the back wall, separate from everyone else.
Pike frowned and stepped away from Bradley to meet Oakley by the door. “Something I said?”
Oakley sighed and set her bag and keys on a chair near the door, then made sure none of the other kids were close enough to hear the conversation. “She probably didn’t even hear you. She had a rough day at school. Storms upset her and sirens set off her sensory issues.”
“Poor baby.” He crossed his arms and peered over at Reagan. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Just leave her be. Sometimes she needs to check out to get herself calm. So if she wants to join us, she can. If she wants to stay over there, let her.”
His eyes met hers. “And you? Anything I can do? You look cold and stressed.”
God, he smelled good. Like summer and spice. She could think of more than a few things he could do to warm her up. But beyond the normal dirty thoughts he inspired, she had this ridiculous urge to hug him, to feel his arms wrap around her, to feel comfort after a shit day. Stupid. She cleared her throat. “The rest of the kids are going to be here soon. Can you get them started so I can run home and get a change of clothes? I won’t be long.”
A panicked look crossed his face. “Wait, you want to leave the kids alone with me?”
“You were doing fine with Bradley.”
“Yeah, but he’s one kid and we were talking drumming. I’m not—I’m not good with kids. I don’t know—”
She smiled and lifted a brow. “So my kid has a storm phobia and you have a child phobia?”
“It’s not—”
She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and trying not to notice how muscular it felt. “You’ll do fine. All kids want is to be treated like people. Don’t talk down to them. Be a good listener. And be confident when you’re in charge so they don’t try to get one over on you.”
“That last part is what I’m worried about.”
“You have no problem with confidence.” She leaned closer. “And I’ve heard you’re pretty good at giving instructions.”
His smile went lazy at that. “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about such things face to face, Ms. Easton.”
