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I think we’ve covered enough for today, though. And I think that would violate our vow to forget said night. Which I decide to only enforce later.
After I leave her apartment.
When the warmth of her palm is no longer seared into mine.
11
SUNDAY
As I hurrythrough the halls of Sun Valley Elementary, I can’t help but feel like missing an entire week of school was a grievous offense.
Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. Calling in sick when I’m still very new is a little outrageous. But c’mon, what was I supposed to do? Would they have preferred me vomiting all over the kids? Seriously?
No one asks if I’m okay. I’m kinda fine with that, honestly, because I don’t like the answer. Better, certainly, but okay? Not quite. Nausea is my new best friend but at least the vomiting has stopped. Thankfully so, because I had no choice but to go to work. August made me promise if I wasn’t better by today, I’d see a doctor.
The kid doesn’t know doctor’s visits are specifically reserved for him and life-threatening circumstances because Lord knows I can’t afford a visit every time I catch a freaking tummy bug.
The staff room is blessedly empty when I duck inside. Wrinkling my nose at the empty coffee pot, I dig in my bag and pull out one of the juices Cass stocked my fridge with. For something made primarily of spirulina—and considering I’m not entirely sure what spirulina is—it doesn’t taste half bad.
Their presence was the only sign I hadn’t hallucinated Cass’ unexpected appearance. Even then, I still doubted myself. Until I spotted the fruit on the counter, the unwashed bowl in the sink. Smelt the lingering scent of his cologne, clean and warm and distinctly floral.
I didn’t expect the visit. I didn’t even expect the apology, honestly. And I didn’t expect… him. For weeks, I’ve been struggling to see the man the media paints. This larger-than-life presence capable of causing havoc and soothing storms in the same breath, a menace to society but a nice menace. A giving, flirtatious, talented menace. That’s who I met in the bar. But that’s not the person moping around Sun Valley. Despite seeing tiny glimpses in the way he treats the kids he coaches and the family he loves, I started wondering if, for the most part, it was just a persona he portrayed.
And then, there he was. In my kitchen. Heating up soup. Blowing my mind with a genuine, regretful apology.
By the time Cass left my apartment, I felt better. Mentally, not physically; as we’ve established, I have the plague. Although, the soup helped.
The freaking soup.
A whisper-screech of my name pulls me from liquid-food-based daydreams, and I frown at the woman hurtling into the room. “There you are,” Gideon hisses, shutting the door and scuttling towards me. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I don’t get the chance to ask why. Before my mouth can even open, a phone is thrust in my face, reflecting… well, my face. My pale, grimacing face, distorted by a car window and the blurry quality of the photo, like it’s been super zoomed in. But it’s detailed enough to make out the man beside me, and the kid in the backseat.
My hands shake as I take Gideon’s phone. One scroll reveals another set of photos. Cass entering my apartment. Leaving a couple of hours later, according to the freaking timestamps. I wasn’t exactly at my most lucid that day but I’m pretty damn positive he didn’t stay for longer than ten minutes. In my state of confused disbelief, it takes a minute to realize the woman in another cluster of shots, pictured solo climbing into her car, is me too.
Me. Bare-faced, greasy-haired, yoga-pants-and-Uggs-wearingme.
“Cass Morgan’s New Girlfriend Revealed,” I read the headline aloud, voice trembling in unison with the rest of me. “This is a joke, right? I’m being hazed or something?”
When I lift my gaze to meet Gideon’s, though, it really doesn’t look like she’s joking. Face solemn, she coaxes her phone from my grip. “At least they don’t have your name yet.”
At least they don't have my name yet.
Yet.
Oh myGod. “What the fuck, Gideon?”
“It literally just came out.” Grasping my forearm, she squeezes gently. “I only saw it because Luna sent it and asked me to warn you. She said she tried to call.”
“I turned my phone off.” When I woke up to half a dozen missed calls from John, I figured a no-screen day was in order.
God, is this why? Did he somehow see the article and recognize me? Did other people recognize me? It’s not like I’m crystal clear or anything but if Luna knew it was me, someone else might.
Someone else might think I’m Cass Morgan’s New Girlfriend.
I’m on the verge of tears yet I want to laugh because how fuckingridiculous. His girlfriend? I’m barely even hisfriend.
“There’s a photo of August.” A grainy, barely distinguishable picture but a photo all the same. With a caption naming him the MLB’s newest legacy kid, questioning his paternity. My child splashed across the Internet because… what? I was lonely and tipsy and thought hey, where’s the harm in ringing in the New Year with a handsome stranger?
