I stand with my back against the front door, tapping my head against it, trying to forget what just happened. I swear if I pull one more embarrassing stunt in front of him, I’ll die. Sara will likely de-friend me, and I’ll lose my job. I mean, come on, I’m a hazard when it comes to Ethan. Starting from the day he kissed me while he had a girlfriend.

I pull my purse in front of me and dig around for my phone like my life depends on it. When it dawns on me that my phone is already in my hand, I quickly dial Sara’s number. She picks up after two rings.

“Oh perfect timing,” she says into the phone. “I was just about to text you. I’m calling a last-minute mandatory meeting before we open today.”

Oh great. Even more time to spend with Ethan. My heart beats faster.

“So do you think you can make it early enough for the meeting?”

“Yeah I think so. I’ll stop by this afternoon to help get things ready. Do you want anything from the Coffee Shack? If I’m going in early, I’m going to need coffee.”

Sara tells me her order, and after we hang up I run upstairs to shower. If I’m going to make any class today, it will be creative writing. If I time it right, I might even be early for work.

It’s only after I’ve stepped out the door an hour later that I remember my car is dead. I glance across the street. Ethan’s truck is gone. Damn. Now what? Asking Mrs. Mulligan is not even an option.

There’s a note under one of my wipers. I look around once more, then grab the white piece of paper and unfold it.

Kelsey,

I went ahead and gave your car a jump before I left. See you at the meeting.

P.S. Please don’t leave your car unlocked again. People are crazy.

Ethan

Relief floods me and I can’t stop the grin on my face as I turn the key. The engine starts right up. After everything I have done to him, he still helped me. I should probably do something nice for him as a thank you. Maybe I’ll get him a coffee too. After all, I did interfere with his sleep last night.

Ethan

I debated whether or not to help Kelsey with her car after she stormed off, but then I remembered the way her cheeks turned that soft shade of pink right after I told her she should be wearing more clothes. I probably caught her off guard and somehow embarrassed her. Although, there was nothing for her to be embarrassed about. She looks amazing. I was more upset with the fact anyone could see her and I don’t want them to.

I lock the door behind me and pull my phone out of my pocket as I head to my truck. Logan Parker is one of the few people I know in this town other than my cousin and a couple other guys I used to hang out with over the summer. I’ve kept in touch more with Logan than my own family. I dial his number and climb inside my truck

“Ethan, man, what’s up?” Logan answers after the third ring.

“Not much—just heading out. Can you meet up?” It’s in my best interest that I try to make things look as normal as possible. Those are my father’s words, not mine. It won’t be hard with Logan. He really is a friend.

“Meet up? You back in town or what?” Logan asks.

“Yeah, I’m helping Sara with the bar while she’s gone.”

“What? Sara’s leaving?” He sounds surprised. She must not have told anyone yet. That’s probably why she called this unexpected meeting today. He continues before I can reply. “Yeah, okay, do you want to meet at the old diner between the bar and that coffee place downtown?”

Almost everything in Windy Valley can be found in what the locals call “downtown.” It’s four blocks in the middle of town and in the perfect shape of a box, with a park in the center. Three of the blocks have about ten businesses apiece and the other block is all apartment buildings. I know Sara lives in one of them. It makes sense since the BA is downtown.

“Yeah, sounds good, man—in an hour?”

“No, I have class till two today. How about around two-thirty?” he suggests.

I tell him two is good, and after we hang up, I start my truck. I glance over at Kelsey’s house, or, rather, the one she’s housesitting for. The thought of her brings a smile to my lips. She’s a feisty one and I like it. I like knowing she’s living there, near me. A friendship is a possibility between us, but who am I kidding? I could never just be her friend.

If I weren’t so focused on being on good terms with my father, maybe Kelsey and I would have a real shot at something. But no, I’ve waited twenty-two years for my father to accept me. I can’t back out now.

The image of Kelsey in Spandex flashes in my eyes. Until I have those account numbers, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Can we honestly work together without me wanting to put my hands all over her? I shake my head as I shift into gear and pull away.

My bet right now is no.

Chapter Five

Kelsey

It takes me so long to find a parking space on campus that I’m now going to be late for my writing class. Big surprise. I seriously consider parking at the BA since the campus is only a few blocks away, but even then, it would add three blocks of running.

I sprint up the steps and through the double doors of the Littman Building. It’s the one and only building I have never been in. I stop just inside the doors, looking at the directory on the wall. Great. My destination is at the other end of the building. I walk briskly down the hallway, not making eye contact with anyone to avoid any distractions. I would speed up, but the “no running in the halls” rule has stuck with me my whole life. Probably the one and only rule, too.

When I finally reach the classroom, the door is closed. I open it slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but the door creaks and everyone turns in their seats. My body goes stiff as I pause in the doorway, taking in all the unfamiliar faces. Someone raises their hand —Logan, one of the other bartenders at the BA and a close friend of mine, is waving at me.

I quietly make my way over to the right side of the room where he is sitting and slide into the seat next to him. Just as I set my backpack on the on the floor, a short, bald man wearing a navy-blue suit and carrying a worn-out, brown briefcase walks into the classroom, letting the door slam closed behind him.

I jump in my seat and the class falls silent.

“The scariest moment is always just before you start,” the man I assume is the professor says, projecting his raspy voice. “Author Stephen King said this: how many of you would agree?” He scans the room. One by one, students raise their hand, me included. He remains quiet until everyone in the class has a hand in the air.

“I agree as well, although I feel this fits for any moment in life, not just writing. Now, we have started class and you can all relax—the scary part is over.” Everyone lets out a laugh as he steps around the square table that was behind him and unzips his bag.

“My name is Professor Frank. You may call me Frank during the class hour. Here is the class syllabus for the semester.” He hands a stack to a redheaded boy in the front row, who takes one and passes the rest. “Please read it over and let me know if you have any questions. I will say this once and that’s it. I am not your mother or your father. I will not scold you for not doing your work, nor will I scold you for not showing up to my class. I will not deduct points for missing class, but I do suggest you make a friend to collect any handouts because I do not store the extra copies for you to get at a later date. But like most teachers, I do hope you show up to every class I teach.”

The next hour flies by, but I’m still disappointed when class ends. I lift my bag over my shoulder.

“Before I forget,” the professor says as students begin their exit, “during this semester, our local newspaper will be searching for a new columnist to be chosen in contest form from the students participating in this class. You do not have to be an English major to enter. The entry forms are here on the corner of my desk.”