Page 6 of Only You
My eyes go huge, and I can tell it amuses him. “What?”
“You should come to dinner tonight at my house. Tatum will be there. It would be good for you two to catch up.”
I’m not sure what he’s playing at, but the thought of seeing Tatum both terrifies and intrigues me. I don’t have his phone number—I never did. I didn’t expect to see him ever again, and then he just showed up in my office out of nowhere, and I didn’t get his number or any way to contact him. I couldn’t move. Or speak.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” I say, even though I’m itching to say yes.
I don’t want to talk about my past, not even with Tatum—especially not with Tatum—but the thought of getting to hear his voice again? To see that calming smile?
“Why not? My brother’s other half would be ecstatic to have you over. He’ll talk your ear off, but he’s not so bad, even though he’s a social worker.”
I smile at that slightly. Cason may try to seem like a little badass who doesn’t care about anything, but I hear the fondness in his tone when he’s talking about his brother’s partner. “I couldn’t do that,” I say, trying to reclaim my professionalism. “It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
He stands but doesn’t head toward the door. Instead, he grabs the Post-It notes I have on my desk and a pen—just helping himself. He scribbles something on the paper and then slides it over to me. “I know you can probably get my address from my file, but it’s probably more ethical if I write it down. We usually eat around seven. You should come. He misses you.”
I open my mouth to ask him if that’s true but stop when I see the gleam in his eyes. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. I can’t use a student to find my way back to Tatum. It’s just not right.
And I know he’s likely lying anyway. Tatum seemed relatively unbothered by seeing me again. It’s likely he wrote me off all those years ago anyway.
Cason is confident as he strides toward my door, playing it off well that he couldn’t care either way. But when he stops and looks back at me over his shoulder, I know he does. He wants this because he delivers the perfect line to get me to do what he so clearly wants.
“You know you want to talk to him again.” My heart stutters, and I struggle to take a deep breath because I do want that. So desperately. I want to know so many things. I want to know if he thinks about me. If he hates me. If he’s truly indifferent. And I’m totally crazy to think he could think about that time all these years later. Just because it made a huge impact on my life doesn’t mean it was even more than a blip on his radar. God knows how many foster kids he met during his time in the system. “This is your in—as my guest.” The kid has guts because he actually winks at me before grabbing the door handle and slipping out of my office like he didn’t just totally rock my world, shaking everything loose I’ve spent years trying to put away.
A mere four hours later,I’m adjusting my tie nervously as I stand on the front porch of the address Cason gave me. It’s not too late to back out. I can just head back to my car and floor it out of here, hopefully undetected.
But the thought of seeing Tatum again after all these years... Of being able to say actual words to him... it’s too much to turn away from. It’s not the smart thing to do—professionally or in any sense—but I can’t walk away now.
I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell, my heart in my throat as I wait. It’s Cason who pulls the door open with a totally unsurprised, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Well hello, Principal Valentine. You made it.”
I half expected him to deny he invited me, but he seems to be quite pleased with himself as he sweeps his hand in a wide motion, making for a dramatic entrance for me. Encouraging me to walk inside their home.
“Remy.” I hear Tatum’s deep voice before I even find him where he’s sitting at the table. It’s strange to see him as a grown man. The last time I saw him, he was sixteen and a giant but not nearly as large as he is now. His shoulders are broad, and he’s somehow grown even taller over the years.
Tonight, he’s wearing a tight gray, V-neck t-shirt that allows me to see the copious amount of ink he’s added to his skin over the years. Last time I saw him, he didn’t have any. It’s almost jarring but no less fitting for him. The intricate, vibrant designs going all the way down both arms and over the back of his hands. Even his chest appears to be nearly all the way covered.
His biceps bulge, just sitting there, his shirt sleeves clinging tight. His light brown hair longer than he used to wear it, tousledon top of his head in elegant, yet somehow disheveled waves. To say Tatum is stunning doesn’t even do him justice. But I try my best to rein in my instant, gut-punch attraction to him.
“Tatum.” I look around the table, seeing plates in various varieties, suggesting they sat down to eat a while ago. I recognize Tatum, of course, Raegan, and Cason and Raegan’s older brother, Kellan, from our meeting. But other than that, I’m staring at complete strangers, all staring back at me. I once again feel the need to bolt, but Cason is ready for it, apparently, shutting the door and then walking up next to me. “Dinner was ready earlier than normal, and I didn’t want to spoil the surprise of you coming to dinner, so I didn’t tell them to wait.” He shrugs. “And I didn’t think you’d show.”
“You invited your principal to dinner?” Kellan asks, his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, is that so weird?” Cason says, his confident and sure stride not breaking before he grabs a seat next to Raegan.
She gives him a death glare. “Why, exactly?”
“I told you our principal and Tatum have history. Thought they should catch up.”
Tatum, just as calm and cool as always, stands up from his seat and goes to a closet in the kitchen, coming back with a black folding chair he opens to sit next to his chair. “That’s a great idea.” I notice a good-looking man, who’s wearing slacks and a nice button-down, hop up from his spot next to Kellan and quickly head into the kitchen. “Please join us,” Tatum’s deep voice rumbles.
My feet move without my permission, and I’m sitting next to Tatum before I know it, and a plate from who I’m assuming is Kellan’s partner materializes in front of me, full of delicious-smelling food. I can see a large piece of chicken but don’t say anything about not eating meat. I’ll just work around that.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner,” I say carefully. All eyes are still on me as I shift nervously on the metal chair.
“Not at all. We’re happy to have you,” Kellan says from his spot directly across from me. “It would have been nice to have a heads-up though, Cason,” he says through gritted teeth, clearly not missing the mischievousness of his brother.
Cason is unbothered, poking a piece of chicken with his fork. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Kellan doesn’t look mad though, just shaking his head at his brother and turning to me with a grin. “We’re happy to have you here.” He puts his hand on the man’s shoulder next to him. “This is my boyfriend, Phillip.”
