“No idea. The sign-up form went missing earlier this week, so….”
“Oh. That…sucks?” he offers.
I laugh. “I would’ve been surprised if anyone signed up. It’s not like we don’t already have plenty on our plates during the holidays without adding another party into the mix. It’s not even my job to plan this thing, but apparently, Artie wants to see how I handle it.”
“Artie?”
“Principal Wells,” I clarify. “He doesn’t like it when we call him by his first name. He insists it’s unprofessional.”
“Touché,” Owen smirks. “Do you wanna just dive right in or wait a few minutes to see if anyone else shows up? Just in case? I saw Skye’s name on the list––”
“She’s taking care of Sway’s cat,” I inform him, bristling at her obvious cop-out. I thought she was still on the man-hating bandwagon with me. But apparently, she’s returned to the dark side, though I have no idea why.
Little shit.
“Ah, Sway’s cat. Right. Is Toby still alive?”
My mouth curves up toward the ceiling before I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. “Yeah, good ol’ Toby is still alive, but apparently, this is one of her other cats that needs some extra lovin’.”
“Other cats?”
“She owns a cat sanctuary and fosters unwanted cats,” I explain while fiddling with my dark blue pen like it’s a toy.
“Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s great, Say––Miss Swenson,” he corrects himself as a light pink reaches his stubbled cheeks.
How did he get even more attractive over the years? While I’ve been fighting eye wrinkles and a belly pooch, he’s been rocking the weight room and the beach, if his natural tan is anything to go by.
Bastard.
But it’s the blush that does me in. The hint of vulnerability and respect that makes a few of the bricks I’ve built around my heart sway back and forth a little harder with every moment we spend in the same room together. But I’m too weak to stop it.
My gaze flicks up toward the ceiling before returning to the adonis in front of me. “You can call me Say.”
His eyes widen. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I jumped down your throat about it the first day. My behavior was completely uncalled for.”
“You have every right to still be pissed at me,” he rasps, shaking his head back and forth as if I’m not the only one lost in the memories of our pasts. “But I appreciate it. It feels weird to call you Miss Swenson. I feel like I’m talking to your mom or something.”
I laugh. “It sounds weird for me, too, when you say it, so I get that.”
“So, how’s she doing?”
“My mom? Uh, she’s good. She and my dad are just doing their thing like always, ya know?”
He nods. “That’s good. Skye already gave me the rundown of her life earlier this week, so I think I’m caught up on that front. And apparently, Sway owns a cat sanctuary, which is…exciting?”
I laugh. “Definitely exciting. There’s never a dull moment on that front.”
“And what about…everything else?” he prods, his thoughtfulness hitting me square in the chest.
“You mean with the whole infertility thing?” The memories from our conversation about our pasts, our regrets, and his little miracle filter through the back of my mind.
“Yeah,” he returns, his voice somber. He was there the day we found out she’d never be able to carry any of her own children. I’d bawled my eyes out, feeling guilty for having a good uterus when my little sister had to have hers removed. It wasn’t fair. He’d held me the entire time, rubbing his hand along my back while making promises he had no intention of keeping.