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“Bye,” I mutter, resting my head against one of the cabinets behind me. There’s just one problem. Cocky, charismatic Owen died the moment he let the girl of his dreams slip out of his grasp. Now, he’s surly…and desperate.
How the hell am I supposed to wake him up too?
“Hey, Dad?” Grady asks as we walk toward our car after school. A familiar silhouette in a swishy skirt and brown leather jacket weaves through the parking lot a few yards in front of us, ignoring me.
“Dad?” Grady tries again.
I shake my head and focus on the only person more important than Say.
“Sorry, bud. Yeah? What’s your question?”
“Can Turner come to our house tomorrow or something? He said he’s never seen Star Wars, and I want to show him.”
“He’s never seen Star Wars?”
Grady shakes his head while Saylor glances over her shoulder at us as if she’s overheard the blasphemy my son is spouting.
“Nope, he says he hasn’t saw them yet.”
“Are you hearing this, Miss Swenson?” I call out. Her pace slows, but her spine straightens as she waits for us to catch up.
When we do, she jokes, “No Star Wars? Who is this kid?”
“Obviously, he needs a little tutoring this weekend. You want to join us?” I offer.
Her eyes widen. “In tutoring Turner about all the epicness of Star Wars?”
“With Grady’s help, of course.”
“Oh, I––”
“It’ll be fun, Miss Swenson! Have you ever seen ‘em? The Star Wars movies?” Grady asks.
Saylor’s smile softens. “Yeah, Grady. I’ve seen them.”
“They’re so good, don’t you think?”
With a light laugh, she answers, “Yeah. They’re pretty good. Wanna know a secret?”
Grady nods.
“I, uh, I haven’t had a full Star Wars marathon since high school.”
My brows almost reach my hairline as she peeks up at me before turning back to my kid with bright red cheeks. It’s too late. I’m already lost in the memory of her straddling me during Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, grinding together on the couch in her parents’ basement until I had blue balls the next day.
“Dad?” Grady interrupts.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, Grady?”
“Can we?”
“Sure thing. I’ll text Turner’s mom and see what she says. We probably won’t be able to watch all of them in one day, though. That’s like ten movies or something.”
“Technically, there are nine if you don’t include the spin-offs,” Saylor chimes in. “Eleven if you count Solo and Rogue One, and twelve if you include The Mandalorian series on Netflix, which is actually pretty good. But your dad’s right. That’s way too much scree
n time for a single night.”
Grady’s jaw drops. “Whoa, Miss Swenson. You know more about Star Wars than my dad.”
