Page 63 of John Wilder Gets Schooled
“So, um, we weren’t as subtle as we thought. He totally figured out we were fooling around.”
Wilder paused what he was doing. “Jesus, Avery.” He ran a hand through his hair, and his cheeks flushed. It was cute as hell. “He’s not gonna tell anyone, is he?”
I nudged him with my elbow. “It’s fine. He overheard your offer, that’s all, and then gave me shit about it because that’s what big brothers do. But he was actually cool with it. I think he likes you.”
Wilder shot me a doubtful look. “Really?”
“Really.” I could still feel the ghost of Wilder’s touch, and maybe it made me brave, or maybe it made me stupid, but whichever one it was, I found myself saying, “He did tell me something interesting, though. He said that there’s no rule against teachers dating the parents of their students.”
Wilder stilled. Then, after a painfully long pause, he said, “Oh.”
Not the “Oh!” you gave when someone gave you welcome and interesting news, though. No, this was the “Oh” you made when the mechanic just sucked air through his teeth and told you how much those repairs were going to cost.
Ouch.
I forced a laugh. “Yeah, I said it wasn’t relevant to our situation, because neither of us are interested in that.”
“Right,” Wilder said and nodded. “Right. I should go get this on the grill.”
He picked up the meat and left the kitchen with his head down. I let him go and leaned against the counter and took a minute to try and recover from the body blow that was Wilder rejecting me. Because he had, hadn’t he? And I couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d said right from the start that dating wasn’t in the cards for him, and if I’d justkept my mouth shut, we could have carried on like we were. But now I’d made it weird and awkward by talking about dating, and I had a horrible feeling I’d had my last late-night visit from Wilder.
And I had nobody to blame but myself.
“Avery?” Miller stuck his head in the kitchen door. “You feeling okay? You look pale.”
I straightened up. “I’m fine. Still freaked out from the goose.”
Miller shuddered. “That thing is a menace.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “Ihateit.”
I let out a shaky laugh and said, “Same. How long do geese live, anyway? Asking for me.”
“Too long,” Miller said with a wry grin. “Chase is asking for your potato salad.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, I’ll bring it out. Can’t upset the birthday boy, right? Well, one of the birthday boys.” I blinked. “Shit, I left their gifts at home. Can you take the salad out, and I’ll run over and get them?”
“Sure thing,” he said, taking the bowl I handed him.
I crossed the yard to my place and when I got inside, I grabbed the gifts. Cooler weather was on the way and I hadn’t had any other good ideas, so I’d spent the last week crocheting the twins a matching scarf and beanie—dark blue for Cash and black for Chase. And then, in case they thought that was lame, I’d taken Wilder at his word and added six boxes of Lucky Charms.
I had a moment of self-pity where I contemplated not going back over because I wasn’t sure if things were going to be awkward with Wilder now. But then I heard Chase laughing, and that was enough to remind me that today was about the twins, not me, and it would be selfish to dip out just because my feelings were slightly bruised. I was going to get my shit together and go and give them their gifts, and eat birthday cake, and not dwell on the fact that Wilder didn’t want to date me.
And it was the right move.
I gave the guys their presents and they laughed at the LuckyCharms, but Cash also pulled his beanie on and perched his tiara on top, giving me a tiny smile, so I knew he liked it.
An older woman arrived just before the steaks were done. She was wearing torn black jeans and a T-shirt from some metal band I’d never heard of and was carrying a white cake box. “Happy birthday, double trouble!” Her gaze fell on me. “I’m Jane, Danny’s grandma. You must be Avery from next door.” She set the cake box down and folded me into a hug and then said, “Now, who’s gonna fetch Grandma a beer?”
The twins bolted to do it.
The food was as great as always, but I couldn’t tell who was more excited for what came next—Gracie or the twins. Even Chase grinned when the cake was revealed, and he could hardly stop his leg from jiggling as Danny and Miller stuck candles in it and then lit them. When we sang happy birthday, his eyes went misty for a second—not that anyone dared mention it—and Cash squeezed his hand and leaned his head on his shoulder.
“This is good cake,” Bobby said as he took a bite, “but it’s a shame you had to bring it all the way from Brodnax, Jane.” He chewed contemplatively before declaring, “I should really look at starting that bakery in Goose Run.”
“You?” Danny asked, eyebrows raised.
“Well, notme, me,” Bobby said, waving his hand and sending bits of cake flying. “I’d get a proper guy in. A professional bakery guy.”
“Do you mean a baker?” Danny asked.
