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  “This is awkward, right?” Lydia dragged her arm across her brow. I nodded slowly, wishing I hadn’t run into her, wishing it wasn’t awkward, and wishing I wasn’t a complete pervert. “I’m sorry for running into you, again.”

  “Why aren’t you off celebrating? Congratulations, by the way.” I was making small talk with the former student that I wanted to fuck. My bad decisions knew no bounds.

  “Mara is off with her boyfriend, my family took me out to breakfast before the ceremony, and it was only high school.” Lydia shrugged. “Just another stepping stone.” I started walking, jerking my head for her to follow, and she did. “When I graduate college, I can celebrate.” She had a point.

  It had been years since I was in high school, but at the time I thought it was the biggest accomplishment ever. She was obviously smarter than I had been, or was currently.

  “Good point. So, what’s next?” We walked around the uneven track, talking about her plans to go to law school eventually. She was certainly smart enough. Lydia laid out all of her big summer plans and talked a little about Mara’s. They planned on some dance class together before starting college in the fall. We ended up side by side on swings still talking about random stuff. The conversation was easy and fun especially considering how awkward our literal run-in had been and how we had been the entire semester. She kept up with baseball and we argued playfully over teams. Lydia teased me over my secret love for the Gilmore Girls, and I laughed at her crush on Ross from Friends.

  “Crap, I should get going.” She flipped her pink phone open to check the time, and I looked around, realizing we had been at the park for hours and the sun had moved across the sky.

  My poor decision making skills got the best of me again. “I knocked you down and broke your iPod. Can I make it up to you with food?” Lydia chewed her lip, turning it red, and furrowed her brow at me. “Don’t feel obligated, I just feel bad for plowing you down.” The last thing I wanted was her thinking I was as creepy as I felt. And I felt pretty damn creepy.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll let Mom know I’ll be eating out.” Her thumbs flew over her pink phone, and she tucked it back in her waistband, looking up at me expectantly. I swallowed, trying to wrap my head around what I had just done. We both stood, and she trailed behind me quietly to my truck. Lydia hesitated when I opened the door, obviously second-guessing herself before she climbed in. Hell, she wasn’t the only one. I shut the door behind her and jogged around to my side. I started the truck, offered her a smile that she quickly returned, and pulled off, shoving off the lingering realization of how badly I was about to screw up.

  ONE

  Jacob

  THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

  It was a whole month before I started going through Mom’s things. Dad couldn’t do it, and I couldn’t ask him to anyway. His wife had just died. My Aunt had boxed it all up for us, so that was nice, but it was time to stop sleeping on the couch and sleep in a room. That room was currently piled high with boxes and littered with her empty easels. The attic had been renovated to include a bathroom and a walk-in closet. My stripped bed was dead center and the room was filled with boxes to the vaulted ceiling.

  I spent the better part of Saturday going through Mom’s things and arranging mine, not like I had much. Tera made sure I had as little as possible. After refusing to come home with me for my mother’s funeral, I came back to a cleaned-out apartment and a folder with divorce papers. I guess I knew she was fucking my assistant coach, but damn. Couldn’t blame her, though—Caiden was about a decade younger than me. Can’t compete with the younger men. So, I came home to nothing and tucked my tail to head back to my hometown. There was nothing wrong with east Tennessee, I loved it, actually, but memories haunted me there. Partially of my mother, and partially of my monumental screw up. But, hey, your twenties are for doing dumb shit, right?

  Dad cooked dinner, and I half-listened while contemplating what to do next. I needed a plan if I was going to get my life together again, and the best place for those kinds of plans was the track at the nearby park. I hadn’t bothered to join a gym yet, so I ran there. Getting older didn’t mean I couldn’t take care of myself and exercise cleared my head. I started at a jog, dying to feel the burn in my legs as I pushed myself later in the run. How had my life gotten so fucked up? A decade before I was on top of the world, coaching and teaching with a nice place to live. I had a rotation of gorgeous women to keep me happy and was set. Fast forward, and I was staying with my Dad, unpacking my dead mother’s belongings, and running at a park track. Divorced, jobless, and kind of pathetic.

  Dwelling on the past was the easiest thing to do. Reminding myself of how good I had it was not doing me a damn bit of good, but I did it anyway. Hell, even before I was an actual teacher I had it better. I had a great apartment near that same park and the most amazing woman, or well, girl. Most people would have looked down on me for that one. I looked down on myself.

  Lydia was easily the most amazing woman I had ever met. She was eighteen to my twenty-six, but worse, she was my student. So was her sister. I was jogging in the track at the same park when we collided. I wanted to pretend dinner was making up for her broken iPod, but we both knew the truth, and it all came to light that night after dinner when I pressed her against my truck and kissed her. For three solid months we were inseparable, barely leaving my apartment, and being completely enthralled with each other. Lyd gave me hell, and I loved it. We made an agreement that it was a strictly carnal relationship, especially when I got my dream job all lined up.

  My whole life went to hell when I left. Maybe Lydia was my lucky charm. I could still hear her breathy voice saying my name, felt her writhing under me and threading her hands into my hair. Fuck. I always had her in the back of my mind, but being home, being at the same park on the same track made it even worse. A woman like her would be married with a litter of beautiful babies running around after thirteen years. Jesus, I had peaked in my twenties with a temporary girlfriend.

  The first time Lyd and I were together was just as good as the last. She was a virgin, and I almost refused to do it, but once we were in the moment with her lips on mine and her pussy grinding into my raging erection, I was not saying no. I worshipped her body, taking it slow, and Lydia returned the favor. You’d have thought my cock was made of solid gold that summer.

  Leaving her was the hardest fucking thing I ever did.

  The sex was amazing, but more than the physical aspect, I had broken the rule. We made a pact—no getting attached and love was off the table. It was an agreement for her sake, but I fucked everything up day one. I fell in love. She had too, but never admitted it. If she had, if Lydia had just said the words, I would have stayed.

  When the track wasn’t doing it anymore, I ran down the sidewalk and past the giant cathedral-style church. An art store and a dance studio blurred by as I pushed harder. A few people were out walking their dogs but paid me no attention as I ran past. The purple lights came into view, and I slowed down, switching to a brisk walk before I pushed the glass doors open. The smell of sweat and determination hit me like a wall as I made my way to the perky woman at the front desk talking to a heavily-tattooed man.

  “Can I help you?” She bounced slightly, making her tits jiggle under her tight, purple tank top.

  “I need a membership.” The girl, Amanda, started going through the levels of membership, and I noticed the huge guy next to her staring at me. He looked vaguely familiar. The guy was an inch or so taller than me and pretty massive, but the way the jackass was staring me down made me want to hit him. “Can I help you with something?” I was having a shitty enough time without some asshole getting bent out of shape because I was talking to his girl.

  “Mr. Teller?” When the guy smirked, I knew exactly who he was and relaxed a little.

  I stuck my hand out to greet him. “Griffin Steele. Just call me Jacob. How are you?”

  Griffin pumped my hand eagerly and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. Next to Lydia, Griffin had been my favorite student that year. Once I moved past him trying to screw my girl, I fell for his sarcastic mouth, and ended up appreciating that he was like a brother to Lydia. Griffin being around meant no one fucked with her. He told me about owning the tattoo shop down the road with a guy from business school and said he was doing well. We chatted a few more minutes while I filled out the paperwork for my new membership and I shook his hand again before I left with the promise to drop by Needles, his tattoo shop.

  I made my way back home to set out Dad’s meds for the next day and grab a beer. My dad had long since gone to bed, leaving a smoking pipe in the ash tray. Maybe I wasn’t just there for me—I was there for him too. He was lost without mom. She was the love of his life, marrying her just before going into the Marines. Dad was eighteen, Mom was sixteen, and they lived happily ever after. The idea sounded nice, but not all of us were so lucky. Not all of us had a soulmate, but then again, I never really expected to.

  TWO

  Lydia

  I cradled my nieces, one in the crook of each arm, while I watched my little sisters sway on the dance floor. Jovie looked beautiful in her strapless white dress and her hair in long, chestnut waves. Reese’s dress matched mine—navy-blue and off one shoulder. It still blew my mind that we all looked nothing alike, and it made me want to question my mother as to how she created a redhead, a brunette, and a blonde. The DJ switched to yet another ballad, and more couples joined the happy couple under the strands of white lights.

  Dad spun Mom in a wide circle before wrapping her in his arms and Nick limped out with Rae on his arm. He would live with a limp for the rest of his life, but he never let it stop him. Jovie winked at me, and Ewan whispered to her, making her blush and playfully pat his chest. Norah stretched, g
runting and sticking her little lip out. My sister and brother-in-law certainly made beautiful babies. Norah looked just like her aunt Amelia with her dark curls and tiny nose, but Ruby had light-brown hair and hazel eyes. They shared the same round eyes, sun-kissed complexion, and fat rolls, but otherwise looked nothing alike. Just like my siblings.

  My wine stared at me, begging for me to take a sip, but my hands were full of fat little babies. Norah calmed against me, and I went back to staring at my sisters. Reese and Julian both had their eyes closed, cheek to cheek, and her engagement ring was proudly displayed for everyone to see. They had only been engaged about a month and were taking things slow, planning a wedding about eighteen months out.

  Ewan looked down at his bride like there was no one else in the room, or on the whole damn planet. I teared up watching them. It was beautiful to watch my sister finally get her happy ending.

  “I’m not sure whether I want to cry happy tears or vomit.” Cori appeared next to me and gently took Ruby from my arms. I shook the sleep from my hand and grabbed my wine, taking a long sip. Cori sat, toeing her shoes off, and sighed. “I love them, you know I do, but all the happily ever after is killing me.”

  I laughed, understanding the sentiment. “I’m glad she’s happy.” It was true, but Cori’s point hit home. She and I were a lot alike. Both single moms, both working our asses off to support our kids, and both trying really hard not to be bitter. I didn’t know the details of her story, but I knew Cori and her daughter had been alone for at least three years and she was the most reliable employee Jove had ever staffed. I also knew her older sister, Arianna, was a complete bitch in high school.

  The wedding died out, leaving only a few family members to gather up family belongings and gifts before loading them into Jovie’s new SUV. My sister had given her old green Honda to Amelia when Ewan bought her the new car, but still looked at her first and only other vehicle with dreamy eyes. I helped them load the twins in the back, hugged my sister and new brother-in-law, and looked around for my son. Ollie came jogging up, hands brushing back his long, dark hair, and fist bumped Ewan. Before we left, I checked my phone, noting the texts from Torin and rolled my eyes. He was getting on my nerves fast. The downfall of sleeping with a man too young for me.

  As of late, Torin had gotten clingy, which meant it was either time for a talk or to cut him loose. The man was fabulous in bed, had muscles and dick to spare, but I was in no way interested in a relationship beyond sex. I thought I had been clear, but I was obviously wrong.

  “Mom.” Ollie brought me out of my daze and gestured for me to drive. I started my car, and he clicked on the radio before I pulled off. We hadn’t even made it to the interstate before my son started talking, “Can I go to Jude’s tomorrow? His mom said she’d take us to the skate park.” Ollie twisted his long, dark hair into a bun and waited for my answer. He knew I would say yes. Jude’s mom had been my best friend in high school and long after. A month after I found out I was pregnant with Ollie, she was pregnant with Jude. Three months later, her fiancé was killed in a head-on collision. We had the boys six weeks apart and helped each other the best we could, even moving in together for a few years. We finally ended up renting houses three blocks away from each other and the school we both worked at—Mara was the part-time nutritionist, and I taught first grade.

  “Uh, sure, after we grocery shop. You know I can’t shop without you.” It was our normal Sunday ritual. We got up early, stopped for breakfast, and took care of the week’s groceries. Then Ollie went to Mara and Jude’s. We had Jude every Wednesday night for Mara to go out with her new man. We weren’t as close since Mara started dating again, but I loved her anyway and knew if I ever needed her, she was there. Plus, Jude was the closest thing Ollie would ever have to a brother. I couldn’t have more kids even if I found a man to sire them. After Ollie was born, my endometriosis kicked into overdrive, and my doctor pretty much shut down any hope of more kids. Not that I had a man to procreate with, nor did I want one. The only one I had ever wanted had better things to do.

  Satisfied with my answer, Ollie leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Even with his shaggy hair, my little man looked handsome in a suit. Who was I kidding? There was nothing little about him anymore. At twelve, my baby was almost my height. It’s not like I was tall, but he would certainly pass me up in the next year. The height came from the other half of his DNA. Jovie was the tallest of us at five seven, so Ollie didn’t get his height from us. Even our older half-brother wasn’t quite six feet and Dad sat comfortably at five foot eleven.

  I hadn’t thought about it in years, not seriously, at least. His father was written all over Ollie’s handsome face, but I ignored it. The whole thing was still painful after all these years, so why dwell? The decisions were made and nothing could change it. Did I feel guilty? Yes. Would I go back and change it? No. I did what I had to, and so did he. Maybe I was selfish. Once I found out, it was far too late to make any changes, so I just let it die. Ollie never asked, not anymore. He had as a little boy, but my answer was firm. I had no idea where is father was, but it was okay because I loved him enough for two parents.

  I remembered the day the love of my life left. We were drinking Jack and Coke on the floor of his packed apartment despite me not being old enough to drink. I swore to him it was fine, I knew what I was getting into, and he had to go. It was his dream, and I refused to hold him back. So after making love with him one more time on the bare floor surrounded by boxes, I left. I felt him watch me walk down the street, but I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. He left for his dream job, and I started college the next fall, getting a semester done before I had Ollie. It was bad timing for a relationship, and it would have caused problems if he had stayed. It was even worse timing for a baby, but Ollie happened anyway.

  You read about teachers hooking up with students, but never think it would be you. At least, I never dreamt it would be me. He would have lost so much if we had stayed together, thus me keeping Ollie’s father a secret. I could never risk his future—his dream job—over a summer fling. I could also never tell him that our summer fling made me fall in love knowing he wouldn’t feel the same. Had I been able to tell him about Ollie, I knew he would have come back and would have resented me for it. I could never live with myself knowing that the man I loved had stayed over an accident.

  The coffee pot beeped just as I strolled into my kitchen the next morning. I was half done with cup number two when Oliver stomped in and picked the bacon off of my plate, hopping on to the counter. My son was not a morning person at all. Ollie snagged a cup and poured half a cup of black coffee, downing it quickly. The kid had begged me for over a year to let him drink it, and I finally gave in over the summer, agreeing to half a cup in the mornings. I handed him a pad and a pen for him to make his list while I finished breakfast. I leaned back and watched him go through the cabinets, making our list, and couldn’t help but smile. He blew a lock of hair from his forehead and jotted something else down. Ollie was an amazing kid. Smart, funny, caring, and always ready to help.

  An hour later, we were stopping by Starbucks for a Danish and strolling through the store with our red cart. “What do you want to for your birthday?” I bumped Ollie’s shoulder, making him stumble over his own giant feet. Another new pair of shoes were in his future

  “Party at Mimi and Pop’s?” Ollie tossed a box of cereal in the cart. Ollie was a low-key kid, always had been, happy having a few friends over and spending time with his family. Even when I tried to give him huge parties, he wasn’t having it. “I’ll just invite a few friends from school.” Ollie ruffled his hair and grabbed Pop-Tarts. I wanted him to cut his hair so bad, but I was always the one telling him that it was his, not mine. It was long enough to put in a pretty impressive man-bun, and he loved it, so I kept my opinion to myself.