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Second Chance

Page 11

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“Thank you,” I tell her with every bit of sincerity. She shouldn’t have to put up with me. I got used to being alone and I wish I was right now. With the exception of one person. I’m pathetic.

“I didn’t get you this part so an ex could make you run away,” she says and tries to smile, but my lack of humor or any trace of happiness keeps it away.

Ex isn’t how I would describe him.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Lydia tells me, breaking me away from my thoughts just as soon as the memories start to creep in. It’s easy for her to say. She doesn’t know a damn thing that happened.

Chapter 4

Nathan

Ten years ago

September 12

* * *

She’s always running her fingers through her dirty blonde hair. The simple motion sends the sweet smell of lavender and something else my way. It’s faint, but I know it’s her. It’s something sweet and soothing. If I think about her, or even if I see her across the lunchroom or in the school parking lot, I swear I can smell that scent.

I like sitting behind her in geography. I can watch the cute little things she does and it looks like I’m actually paying attention.

This is the only class I haven’t gotten kicked out of so far. The stupid shit doesn’t bother me as much when I can watch her. Even if she never looks at me twice.

The bell rings and the sound rips my eyes away from her and toward the classroom door as a few more students file through. Adam Waynes is the last in and his chair screeches across the floor as he crashes into his seat. He’s loud as fuck and gets all the attention. At the thought, I look to her, to Harlow May. I’m expecting her to be watching the spectacle that would usually piss me off, but instead, those gorgeous blue eyes are on me. She’s quick to look away, again her fingers flying to her hair and twirling her locks nervously as bright pink creeps into her cheeks.

She can be shy all she wants, but I caught her. I caught her looking. Even better, I made her blush. I did that.

It almost gives me enough courage to pull on her backpack straps as she walks in front of me to leave. I could give her bag a tug and force her to look back at me, but I don’t. I stay behind like I have for the last few weeks and let her walk away.

But the next time she glances at me in geography, she doesn’t avert her gaze when I look back.

And a few days later, she’s the one tugging on my backpack.

I keep telling her I’m not good for her, but she doesn’t listen though.

That’s the very thing that will ruin us and we knew it from the start.

“Nathan!” Julie’s shrill voice makes my brow furrow as I raise my eyes to her. Her fingers are laced together as she folds her hands in her lap and lets out a huff of laughter. It’s sweet, but nervous. “He does this sometimes,” she tells Margo Hawkins, a reporter for some paper. I hate these things, but this one, I apparently couldn’t get out of.

I force the hint of a smile on my face and readjust in my seat. I’m riddled with guilt, just like I’ve been every single day since I left her. But she was better off without me. I’m a different man now though.

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Hart?” Margo asks.

Hally. Our past. Every moment I regret that led up to today.

“Nothing,” I say and shake my head. Julie’s smile slips and I see it from the corner of my eye. “I’m just so honored to be starring alongside Julie. She truly is a force to be reckoned with.”

The smile comes back and this time it’s genuine. I don’t have a damn thing against Jules. She’s a hard worker and obsessed with making the right moves for her brand, but right now I really could not give two shits.

All that’s on my mind are the detailed papers Mark slipped under my door this morning. Everything about my Hally, who she’s represented by and how she came to be here.

There’s no way she knew I’d be here, but the coincidence is something I just can’t drop. My Hally was sweet and innocent, but time changes everyone. I know this better than most.

“I have to ask,” Margo says, leaning forward with a shy smile as she looks between the two of us. We’re in the green room where these interviews are done and several men with recorders, cameras, and notepads are standing just behind Margo’s chair taking in every word. I should force the charm and play the part. I know better than to let them see the real me. “Have you two had your first kiss on set yet?” Margo asks the ever-so-important question. It takes everything in me for me not to roll my eyes.



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