Simmer Page 5

  “Josh is a great father,” I continued. “I never gave him a chance, and both he and Victoria suffered for it. Aren’t you glad you asked?” I poured the soup into a container after it cooled, satisfied with my culinary ability but disgusted with myself for other reasons.

  I omitted the horror show of acclimating to Josh’s presence in our lives. I had so much to atone for and the path to redemption was long and uphill.

  “You had no idea who he was then, and now,” Drew finally said, “he may’ve turned out to be a good dad, but how could you have known that? He could’ve been the complete opposite.” He inched closer and squeezed my shoulder. “Sara, you did what you had to do. You’re a great mom. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.” He gave me a small smile that, for the first time, allowed some of the self-loathing to dissipate and circle the drain.

  My throat thickened as he strolled back to the front desk. Why did I tell him everything, and why didn’t he back away?

  Having real friends took some getting used to.

  Drew

  “HEY, JODI.” I nodded at the waitress at the counter before I slid onto one of the stools. The diner outside of campus was small, but they had a killer breakfast. After being up for half the night on my group project, I wanted some grease in my stomach before I went back to my apartment and passed out. School was a breeze before I became a graduate student. Now, it sucked, but I could glimpse the light at the end of the tunnel.

  “Drew?” My groggy eyes turned to the familiar sultry voice behind me.

  “Sara,” I croaked as my gaze met hers. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you, too. You look like you’ve been up all night. Did you party too hard?” She tilted her head as she strolled up to the counter. How could anyone look this good in only a long sleeve T-shirt and leggings? Sara had natural beauty that radiated off of her every time I saw her. But I was only a friend and wasn’t supposed to notice. After complaining that so many girls were too open, I set my sights on one so tightly closed I'd need the jaws of life to get her to budge even a little.

  “I wish,” I answered on a yawn. “Brian, Carlos, and I were finishing up our final project most of the night. I’m here to pick up an egg sandwich before I sleep the rest of the day.”

  “Oh, okay then. Enjoy and get some sleep.” Sara frowned before she backed away.

  “Hey,” I whispered before I caught her arm. “Why do you look like you were about to ask me something?”

  A wave of shyness flashed in her eyes as she motioned to the back tables. “I’m here by myself and was going to ask you to join me.” She squinted at me with a cute as hell bashful smile.

  “Join you? That sounds like socializing. Sure you’re up for it?” I arched an eyebrow, loving the scowl I received in return.

  We’d hung out a couple of times after I bribed her into coffee. Usually during or sometimes after my shifts in the lab. I was coaxing her out of her hardened shell little by little. From the small things I’d gotten her to share, I got the feeling she’d been alone with her daughter so long she didn’t know how to reach out to anyone else. An insignificant thing like an invite to breakfast was a big deal where she was concerned.

  “Very funny.” Her eyes rolled. “Go home and get some sleep.”

  “No, no. I’m not one to refuse such a nice invitation. Lead the way.”

  Sara fought a smile as she jerked her head toward her table in the back. I followed, willing myself to keep my eyes north of her waist.

  “What brings you here alone?” I asked as I slid into the booth across from her.

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged as she leaned her elbows onto the table. “I was up early and didn’t feel like a bowl of cereal from our kitchen. You kept saying how good breakfast was here, so . . .”

  “You listened to me?” I clutched my chest. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “Surprised me, too.” Her lips stretched into a wide smile, making the air whoosh right out of my lungs. When the smile made it to her eyes, she was the definition of breathtaking. Whatever life did to her made that smile hard to come by. It was the second time I’d seen it, but I knew it was as rare as it was beautiful—like a shooting star.

  “I used to take Victoria to the diner by us once a month on a Sunday morning. She loved stuffed French toast.” She fidgeted with the silverware next to her plate. “That and dance school were my big splurges.”

  “Think of all the French toast you can buy her when you’re a big fancy chef.” I tapped her wrist to make her look up. “And I bet she lived for those Sundays. My mom used to take me to the comic book store once a month before she met my stepdad. I still remember those as the best days.”

  “Comic book store?” She crinkled her nose.

  “No self-respecting computer nerd doesn’t know his comics.” I leveled eyes at her.

  “Does your little sister like comics, too?”

  “Cassie? She likes girly stuff. Dolls, Hello Kitty; she still sleeps with the Pinkie Pie My Little Pony doll I gave her year ago. Although, I snuck in a Wonder Woman comic book in her stocking last Christmas and she didn’t hate it. I took that as progress.”

  Her eyes welled with tears, but she blinked them away. “Victoria loves Wonder Woman. That’s the theme of her room at her father’s house.”

  “Maybe they should meet one day. She could help me convert my sister.”

  “Maybe,” she whispered and offered a smile, but a forced one this time.

  “Who knew that I’d have to leave her to give her a good life.” She pinched her eyes shut and groaned. “Sorry, Drew. You came in for eggs, not a sad story.”

  I reached for her hand across the table and gave it a squeeze. “That’s not true. And even though I’d never met Victoria, I’m sure she’d agree. You gave her the best life you could, and now you’re working your ass off to make it even better. Chin up, Caldwell.” I tapped her chin with my knuckle and was rewarded with a real laugh.

  “I FaceTimed with her this morning and she told me all about her father’s wedding yesterday. The pictures looked beautiful and she looks like she . . . fits with them. I’m afraid after this year is up she’ll think she doesn’t fit with me anymore.”

  The defeated look in her eyes made me want to rise from my seat and wrap my arms around her. She came off as cold, but I’d bet that was because no one took the time to see how she was or gave a shit as to how she was feeling.

  “You have something they don’t. They can give her all the iPads in the world and decorate her room any way they want. They aren’t her mom. She’ll always fit with you, Sara.”

  Our food came and brought a welcomed halt to our heavy conversation.

  “You’re pretty wise,” Sara noted as she poked at her scrambled eggs.

  My mouth fell open. “Did you just pay me a compliment? Look at you being social AND pleasant.”

  She gave me a wry grin. “I mean, wise for a comic book geek. Marvel or DC?”

  I tapped my chin. “Probably DC. I’ve always been a huge Batman fan. The Dark Knight should have won the Oscar for Best Picture.”

  “Of course, it should have.” She nodded with a hint of a smile. “I’m glad I found you here today.” She said it so softly it was almost inaudible.

  “I’m glad you did, too. You know, you’re pretty when you smile. Beautiful, actually. You should try it more often.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  “See, that?” I jutted my chin in her direction. “That, not so much.” She laughed around the rim of her coffee cup.

  “You can find me here on Saturdays or Sundays usually. Want to make eggs and sad stories a regular thing?”

  She peered up at me, showing a hint of the smile I was starting to yearn for.

  “I’ll try to keep the sad stories to a minimum, but . . . sure, why not?”

  I dropped my head, smiling to myself. I’d get through those walls she caged herself in, one tiny crack at a time.

  Sara

>   “I’M SUCH AN idiot,” Emma lamented as we strolled out of class. “This burn is going to make lab suck for the next week.” Her mouth twisted as she examined the scaly burn on the side of her hand.

  “You aren’t an idiot. It happens all the time. I see your burn and raise you my cut.” I held up my palm to draw attention to the slice I made down my hand when I was supposed to be carving a chicken. “You should’ve seen my waitress injuries. I came home looking like I handled a snake in a fire pit.” I laughed to myself. I could laugh about those days now; it was anything but funny back then.

  “What did you do? I can’t miss lab.” She cradled her injured hand against her chest.

  “A good cream and liquid bandages work wonders.” I gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll live, I promise.”

  “How did you work through all of that?” She scoffed and shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

  A humorless laugh fell from my lips. “You’d be surprised what you can do when you have no choice.”

  My landlord wouldn’t have cared that I burned my hand, and the supermarket didn’t allow you to put food on loan, so I worked through the pain. Because I had to.

  “Hey, ladies!” Drew waved as he passed us on the way inside. “Good class? Any leftovers?” He gave us a wide smile, but Emma groaned before I could answer.

  “No. We’re the walking wounded. I got burned and Sara got cut.” Still clutching onto her hand, she nodded her chin at me.

  “Wounded? What’s wrong?’ Drew’s brow pinched as he squinted his eyes in concern—at me. Emma was forgotten to him, but she was too busy over-nursing her burn to notice.

  “A cut, it’s no big deal. Occupational hazard. My personal best is ten stitches down my wrist from a serrated knife.” I jutted my chin out in mock pride, but Drew didn’t laugh.

  “I’m going to find some cream and run more cold water over it.” Emma backed away from us, regarding her hand as if it were about to fall off. Poor thing. She’d learn soon enough.

  Drew grabbed my hand to get a closer look. He shot me a concerned glance as his thumb drifted down the open cut. I gasped, but not in pain. I didn’t want to acknowledge the jolt of electricity caused by his skin sliding across mine.

  “It’s fine, really.” I withdrew my hand, wincing at the sting as I wiped the sweat from my palm onto my jeans. “Comes with the territory. All I need is a liquid bandage or even some Krazy Glue.” I shrugged, and the flat line of his lips curved into a smile.

  “Krazy Glue?”

  “You never watched a medical show? Krazy Glue is gold for cuts. You should try it, you know in case you come down too hard on one key and injure yourself.” I raised a brow, fighting the urge to rub at the painful sting across my palm. If glue didn’t work, it would be a long and painful night.

  “Always the warrior.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “I bet you were one of those kids who had perfect attendance every year.”

  “I was raised as long as you didn’t have a high fever, you went to school. If you could crawl, you could still go. I guess I still think along those lines.” I shrugged. “How long are you here tonight?”

  “Tonight is my late night if you want to come by, but you probably want to rest the hand.”

  I gave him a slow shake of my head. “I work tonight. I’ll fix it up and it’ll be fine.”

  The worried pinch of his brows returned. “Are you sure? No need to be a hero, Sara.”

  I fought a roll of my eyes. “This is nothing, and I could use the extra money.” Every cent I could spare went into a new life fund for Victoria and me when my year was finished. I couldn’t renege on that even for one night for the sake of a silly cut. I’d get us the best apartment I could find, and she’d love it as much as Josh and Brianna’s new place. Not that I was subconsciously competing or anything.

  “Promise me you’ll cut the night short if it hurts too much.” The pleading in his dark eyes almost made me stumble. When was the last time anyone worried about me? My mind rewound to when my grandparents were still alive, meaning decades ago.

  “Yes,” I lied. “I’ll show you my just fine hand tomorrow at breakfast. I believe it’s your turn to buy.”

  The more time I spent with Drew, the more I liked him. He was funny, charming, and as easy to talk to as he was on the eyes. Our comfortable friendship made me feel less alone. The old Sara would be mean enough to make him never want to speak to her ever again, and it only would have taken a couple of tries. This new Sara enjoyed his company and his adorable wisdom beyond his twenty-five years.

  His lips spread into a slow smile. “I believe you’re right. I’ll meet you after my run.”

  “I miss running,” I sighed. “The gym is so boring.” I worked out at the free gym in Berman Hall but running on the elliptical was like watching paint dry. I’d wanted to run on campus but didn’t feel comfortable alone so early.

  “Run with me. Meet me on the campus track at six.”

  “A.M.?” I gaped, pulling a throaty chuckle out of Drew.

  “A.M.,” he confirmed with a cheeky grin. “Any later, the track team takes over and it’s crowded as hell. Embrace the dawn, Caldwell.” He slapped my arm before heading back into the lab.

  “Why don’t you take a break?” Loretta, one of the chefs I was assisting for the night, glared at me as she motioned to the break room behind the kitchen.

  “I’m fine. It’s busy tonight and I’m here to help you.” I waved her off, the rush of air hitting my cut and bringing out an involuntary hiss. My usual go-tos didn’t work, and three Band-Aids fell off when I had to wash my hands.

  “You’re working in pain, and you won’t learn anything that way. You only have a half an hour left anyway. Why don’t you head to the back, clean it up and put a fresh bandage over it? Last thing I need is my best worker getting an infection.” She squinted at me and pointed to the door.

  I nodded, reluctant and pissed off at myself for not paying attention in the lab today. I couldn’t afford injuries or sickness now but agreed with Loretta that I wasn’t of any use for the remainder of my shift. I lumbered out of the kitchen and once again rummaged through the first aid kit. I whimpered as I cleaned out the deeper-than-I-thought wound, hoping I could hold the steering wheel on the short ride home.

  I fell into one of the chairs and dropped my head back, attempting to will away the self-pity at the number I’d done on my hand. The vibration of my phone in my pocket startled me. Carefully digging it out with my good hand, I couldn’t help but smile when I glanced at the unread message on the screen.

  Drew: How’s the hand? You took it easy tonight, right?

  My smile grew wider as my heart squeezed. I wasn’t used to anyone checking on me. I pictured his dark brow crinkled with worry. This boy was hopeless. Adorable, but hopeless.

  Me: It’s fine. Not my first rodeo, I’ve worked through injuries a ton of times.

  Drew: Stop distracting me with visions of you as a hot cowgirl. That was a bad cut and looked painful as hell.

  Me: I told you, I’m fine. And cowgirl? Are you kidding me?

  Drew: You’re the one who started it. Now I’m picturing you in the tight pants and boots.

  I groaned as my head fell back. He was exasperating, but my lips quirked into a smile. Two seconds ago, I was feeling sorry for myself and even though pain still seared across my hand, our ridiculous banter over text made me forget, if only for a moment.

  Me: Okay, stop. I’m not in tight pants or boots. I’m in a filthy assistant chef uniform with sweaty hair and runny makeup.

  Drew: And now you’re telling me you’re filthy. If you want us to stay in the friend zone, this isn’t helping, Caldwell.

  Me: Me being filthy is a turn on to you?

  Drew: . . . you have no idea.

  My bandage-wrapped palm scrubbed down my heated face. I peered into the mirror next to the couch and was surprised to see a smile still stretching my cheeks. He was getting to me—or had already gotten to me—and
I was still dead set on denying it.

  Me: You’re sweet to check on me. If it makes you feel any better, I’m done for the night and just put a fresh bandage on it.

  Drew: It does. I was worried and knew your stubborn ass wouldn’t rest unless someone told you to.

  Drew: Which is what happened, right?

  I scowled at the screen.

  Me: Maybe.

  Drew: You can never admit when I’m right.

  Me: Because who wants you more full of yourself?

  Drew: I’m letting that golden opportunity slip right by . . . can you drive, or do you want me to come get you?

  Me: I can drive, thank you. See you in the morning at the track?

  Drew: 6 a.m. Get home safe, Caldwell.

  Me: Thank you for checking on me.

  Drew: What are friends for?

  Friends didn’t give you a case of the butterflies with a text message. I eyeballed my throbbing hand and let out a long sigh. In my old life, I would have never allowed a close friendship with anyone, much less someone I was fighting an attraction to. I was happy in my solitude—or so I forced myself to believe.

  So what if we were spending more and more time together and he checked on me? It didn’t mean anything.

  Too bad I didn’t believe me, either.

  Drew

  “GET THOSE LEGS up, Caldwell!” I chided Sara over my shoulder.

  “Seriously?”

  I cracked up at her breathless and frustrated reply.

  “You said you were a runner.” I turned around and jogged backward as she ran toward me. “Gotta say, not so sure now that I’ve seen you in action.” I arched an eyebrow and could’ve sworn I’d heard a growl erupt from her throat. Wisps from her ponytail licked her damp cheeks as she glared at me.

  “I said . . . I liked to run . . .” Her words were stilted as she tried to catch her breath and tell me off at the same time. “I didn’t say anything about being a track star . . . jerk.”