Words Left Unsaid (Love Hurts 3)

“I like the way you think.” I chuckle. We wait in line for our snacks and then find our seats in the semi-crowded theater. “If you tell anyone I’m seeing this movie, there’ll be repercussions,” I warn her.

She laughs, her eyebrows lift

ing. “You should’ve told me that earlier,” she teases, her voice light. “I know for a fact Grant can’t wait to slam you for seeing this.”

“Great. Thanks so much for your support,” I groan.

After the movie, I convince her to have a drink with me at a nearby bar. It’s a bad idea, considering how early I have to be up—even on a Sunday, but I can’t let the night end just yet.

For a Saturday night, it’s pretty empty, especially given its location in the center of town. We choose a table and I order a beer while she asks for a wine. She shifts in her seat like she’s nervous about being out with me. I tell a few bad jokes to try and lighten the mood, and it does.

“Nervous about tomorrow?” I ask as our drinks are placed in front of us. I smile at the waitress before turning my attention back to Kiara. The interviews for the teaching positions are being held tomorrow so it doesn’t interfere with school time.

“It’s been four years since I’ve applied for anything, and that job I got by total chance. What do you think?” she asks, her voice dry.

“Fair enough,” I chuckle. “Just be as prepared as you can. You’ll be asked a lot of questions—just answer them honestly.”

“Questions?” The color drains from her face. “Like what?”

“Nothing too hard—just about your experience and how you handle different situations.”

“Oh shit,” she groans. “Now I feel underprepared.”

“Don’t stress, Kiara. You’re going to rock this. Your application was really strong, and there’ll only be four of us interviewing you,” I add.

“Four?” she gasps. “Only four? What the hell? There might as well be a whole damn room,” she laughs. She reaches for her wine and swallows it down.

“It wont be that bad, I promise,” I assure her. “Why don’t I fire a few questions at you so you get a feel for the kind of things they’ll be asking?”

“That would be great,” she grins. “I know the basics, like my name.” I chuckle at her joke. “It’s just trying to work out what they want to hear that I’m scared about.”

“That’s easy. Why do you want the job?”

“I probably shouldn’t say for the money, right?” she jokes. I narrow my eyes at her and she giggles. “I’m kidding,” she assures me, holding up her hands. “I love kids and I love art. Being able to combine the two in a career would be amazing.”

“See, that’s a great answer. Passion for the role is what they want. Why did you originally choose teaching as a career?” he asks.

“Because it’s something I’ve wanted since I was a little girl, but after the accident I thought it wasn’t achievable.”

“Anything’s achievable if you want it hard enough,” I murmur. My eyes catch hers and she blushes. Am I still talking about the job? I’m not so sure…

“Kiara.”

Her eyes widen and she freezes, dropping her hand into her lap. I turn around and see a man and a woman standing behind us. This has to be Aiden’s mother because the look she’s shooting at Kiara is one of pure disappointment. Her gaze shifts to me, and her expression hardens.

“Good to see you out having fun,” she says, her attention back on Kiara, her voice cold enough to freeze ice.

My defenses kick in, the urge to protect Kiara overwhelming. Should she be feeling guilty about being out with me? Is that what she wants?

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she prods, before I can speak.

“Right, sure. This is Max. Max, this is Heather and Jim. Aiden’s parents.” She looks physically sick.

“Nice to meet a friend of Kiara’s. We best be going or we’ll miss our movie,” she adds. They don’t wait for a response and I miss my chance to say something. Kiara shakes her head and stands up.

“I better go,” she mumbles, twisting a strand of hair behind her ear. I nod and stand up too, her sudden change in mood completely understandable. We walk outside in silence. I want to say something, but I’m not sure what. Is there any point in trying to turn this date back around? Running into your dying fiancés parents is definitely a mood killer.

God, the fact that I’m calling it a date just shows me how messed up I am. I’m setting myself up to get hurt, but I can’t do a damn thing to stop it.