Page 16 of I'm Yours

“What the hell are you wearing?” I ask, probably rudely but she just smiles, giggling a little and it’s like a vise is gripping my heart. I haven’t heard her voice, her laugh, in so long. I missed it. I missedher.The way her eyes sparkle in amusement and her lips lift in a smile. Damn, she’s even more beautiful than I remember. When I last saw her, she was still growing into herself. Now, though, I see everything, thanks to her attire. Firm stomach, full breasts, strong arms and legs. The only thing that’s the same about Sadie Jones is her hair. Still pin straight and blonde.

She throws a thumb over her shoulder. “I teach pole dancing in the back.”

“My daughter isn’t pole dancing!” I’m sure I look horrified but I figured this was a regular dance studio for little kids.

“That’s good because she’s not old enough for that. Maybe we could start her out with some beginner ballet?” A teasing smile stretches across her face and I can’t stop my eyes from drifting down, focusing on her full lips.

I’m standing here in front of Sadie for the first time in twelve years as she takes a break from teaching a pole dancing class. We’re discussing starting my daughter out with some beginner ballet classes while she’s at her first day of kindergarten. How is this my life? I’m barely holding it together, feeling like I’m about to come out of my own skin. It’s too much for me to deal with. She’s too pretty and sexy and my daughter just started school and… shit. I need a drink. And I rarely drink.

“Okay,” I find myself saying.

She moves with ease on heels that should roll her ankle and brushes past me, her scent lingering in the air between us. A mixture of something sweet that reminds me of when my mom would bake pumpkin bars in the fall and something else that brings back memories better left buried.

She hands me a piece of paper and a pen. “Fill this out and here’s a list of our classes and the times so you can take a look at what works for your schedule. How old is she? Five?”

“Yes,” I tell her, wondering how she’s so calm. Meanwhile, I’m about to come unglued and out of my skin. “She’s at her first day of kindergarten now,” I add in unnecessarily.

“You can take a seat in my office to fill it out.” I don’t take a seat. Instead, I stand and bend over the desk, making quick work of filling out my and Emmy’s information. I pause at the section where I’m supposed to fill out my cell number. That means Sadie will have my number, even though it hasn’t changed since I left. Sadie doesn’t comment on the fact that I don’t sit down. “Was she excited?”

“Yes.” I place the pen down on the desk and stand up straight. Looking through the paper for the times she has available for Emmy, I decide on Mondays at four. “Is there room in that class for her?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right then. See you then.”

I spin on my heel and push my way through the door, sucking in a breath of fresh air when I get outside.

I don’t hesitate, just climb into my pickup, start it up, and drive.

I know I’d made it clear to my mom that I didn’t want to know much, if anything at all, about Sadie, but I would think she would have at least let me know she was still in Lakeside.

I pick up my phone, ready to chew someone out who doesn’t deserve it, and unfortunately for her, my mom calls at the wrong time.

“Mom.”

“Uh oh,” she murmurs nervously at the sound of my voice.

“She’s still in town?”

Mom is quiet on the other end of the line and eventually blows out a breath. “Every time I tried to bring up Sadie, you shut me out,” she reminds me gently.

“You should have found a way to let me know she still lived in Lakeside.”

“Where’d you see her?”

“The dance studio. Emmy wants to go to classes so I stopped in.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah. Imagine my surprise to find her when I stepped inside.”

“Oh my,” she repeats.

I grunt, flipping my blinker to turn right and head down a side road I haven’t been on in years. Twelve years, in fact. I didn’t even realize I was heading in this direction until I got here. I curse under my breath and luckily Mom doesn’t hear. Or, if she does, she ignores it. I may be thirty years old, but she wouldn’t hesitate on calling me out for cursing in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Reed. I wanted to tell you, but you told me you didn’t want to know anything about her.”

“I know I said that, Mom, but you…” I want to blame her, but really, it’s not her fault. I need to grow up and be okay with knowing about what the girl who broke my heart is up to now. It was over a decade ago, and it’s time I got over it. “Never mind. It’s not your fault. It was just… shocking, that’s all.”

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