I
โ
We say it at the same time. That also has to be a joke.
Theo stands, and I catalog everything about him before I can process how Iโm feeling: the worn-in Leviโs with a button fly, goddamn him; the wavy hair rustling poetically in the breeze; his expensive-looking navy sweater, sleeves pushed up his forearms. The material looks so soft I want to rub my cheek on it.
No, Iย donโt. What theย hell.
โWhat are you doing here?โ I demand as his expression cools from its initial shock.
Theoโs eyes skim my body, but not in a sexy way. Like he ordered Wagyu steak, and he got McDonaldโs instead. I regret the short corduroy skirt Iโm wearing, and especially the Doc Martens. Theyโre from high school.
When his gaze does a U-turn back down to my feet, one corner of his mouth hooks up, and Iย knowย he remembers the damn boots.
โStill wearing those shit kickers, huh, Shep?โ
That voice. I hate it. Itโs like velvet rubbed the wrong way. Thereโs a texture to it that crawls up my spine, and a depth that sprinkles goosebumps on the back of my neck. I still remember sitting on stage at graduation, staring daggers at his back whileย hisย voice delivered the valedictorian speech instead of mine.
โWhat are you doing here?โ I repeat.
One eyebrow raises, stern as ever. โI think itโs obvious, isnโt it?โ
I donโt want it to be true, but the truth is staring at me, wholly unimpressed: my high school adversary is Paulโs grandson, and weโve been talking all week without realizing it.
What force has brought him back into my life? Satan? No, that doesnโt make senseโthe same force brought Paul into my life, too.
My gaze moves up to the sky.ย What are you doing up there, Gram?
A throat clears and Theo and I turn at the sound. Paul pushes off the table to stand, his eyesโdeep blue like Theoโsโbouncing between us.
โI take it you two know each other?โ he asks.
โUnfortunately.โ I hold up my hands, horrified. Even if itโs true, itโs his grandson Iโve just insulted. โIโm so sorry, I didnโt mean that.โ
โYes, she did,โ Theo says.
I shoot him a glare, and itโs as effective as if weโve actually hurtled back in time. We used to exchange endless jabs in class, on the tennis court where we both played varsity, at parties. Through unfortunate luck, we liked the same people, so our paths crossed constantly. Murdering him with my eyes is muscle memory. His returning smirk is, too. He loved riling me up.
Iโm not going to give him the satisfaction. Iโm an adult, despite my circumstances proving the opposite, and heโs not going to get to me. Even though the dimple popping in his cheekโand the heat blooming in mineโ says otherwise.
โHavenโt seen that smile in a while, Teddy,โ Paul says with a grin the same shape as Theoโs, dimple and all.
Like that, all expression drops off Theoโs face. โIโm going to grab another coffee.โ He lifts his chin at me. โWhat do you want?โ
โNothing.โ The last thing I need is caffeine. Or to owe Theo Spencer anything.
He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, then walks off. Paul and I both watch him go before turning to each other.
โSorry about that. We have some, um, history.โ
โSo I saw,โ he says, his tone amused and thoughtful.
I hold out my hand. Steady now. โIโm Noelle, Kathleenโs granddaughter.โ
He takes my hand in his. His skin feels fragile, but his grip is strong. โOh, I know, sweetheart. You look just like her.โ
My throat goes instantly tight. โThank you.โ โI was so sorry to hear she passed.โ
He stutters over the last word, as if itโs from a language he doesnโt know. It still feels foreign in my mouth, too, and like that, the connection between us is set. A gossamer thread from his heart to mine.
Thereโs a handkerchief in his outstretched hand before I realize my eyes are welling. I take it, pressing it to my face. The handkerchief is timeworn and smells like fabric softener. Something about it makes me feel like Iโve been punched right in the sternum. I miss Gram so much I canโt breathe.
A gentle hand at my elbow guides me to a chair, and I plop down inelegantly.
I pat at my cheeks, pulling my canvas bag onto my lap. โI donโt really know where to start.โ
Paul runs a hand down his checkered dress shirt. Thereโs a gold band on his ring finger. Looks like he found his happiness, too.
โWhat would you like to know?โ I let out a breath. โEverything.โ
He rubs a hand along his cheek, appraising me. โThatโs a tall order, Noelle.โ
โIs it? I know nothing. I donโt know how long you were dating. Or how you met. Orย whereย you met.โ
I reach into my bag, extracting the pictures Gram kept, along with the letter. When I slide it across the table toward him, he presses his palm over it. I can almost see him transporting back to that time when he picks up the letter, unfolding it carefully.
He looks up at me, eyebrows raised. โShe kept this?โ
โYeah, I found it in a sealed envelope. The pictures were with it.โ โDid you find others?โ
I shake my head, then lean forward as he puts the letter down. โWere there more?โ
He sighs, gazing down at a photo heโs picked up. โOh yes. We loved to write each other letters during our time together. I sent her several once she went home, though Iโm not at all surprised she didnโt keep them. Iโm much more surprised she kept this one.โ
โWent home?โ
He flips another photo toward me with a chuckle. Theyโre perched on the edge of a stone wall, Gram leaning back into him with a wide smile, her eyes lowered coyly to the ground. โWe met at school. This photo was taken there, at UCLA.โ
I frown. โMy grandma didnโt go to UCLA. She didnโt go to college until her kids were older.โ
Paulโs expression drops back into its previous sadness. โShe did go. She just didnโt finish.โ
Leaning back in my seat, I take that in while Paul continues to shuffle through the photos. Itโs another secret revealed, a small piece of what is a much bigger puzzle than I anticipated.
A bottle of fancy sparkling water is set unceremoniously on the table, interrupting my thoughts. I blink down at it, then turn to Theo as he slides into his seat. His jean-clad knee knocks into my bare one before he adjusts his position to put more space between us.
โWhatโs this?โ
He leans closer conspiratorially. He smells so good I want to yell, like firewood and a hint of something sweet. โDonโt tell me I have to explain what water is, Shepard.โ
My gaze strays to Paul, whoโs watching us with mirth in his eyes. I press my lips together, swallowing down the fourteen rude things waiting to launch from my mouth.
โThanks,โ I manage. โLet me pay you back.โ โIโll survive,โ Theo says, his mouth quirking.
Right. Heโs the CFO at Where To Next, a travel app that acts as a concierge for anything from ร la carte to full-service travel packages.
Flights, places to stay, experiences, you name it. God knows Iโve used the app to book one of their screaming off-season deals. Once, Sadie, Thomas, and I stayed in a monster cabin in Tahoe for practically nothing. Theo is also a cofounderโhe and two of his college friends started itโand must be sitting on a pile of money. I made the mistake of looking him up on LinkedIn once, not realizing he could see Iโd viewed his profile, and read through a ton of gushy articles he was tagged in. I still remember the private message he sent me the next day:
Looking for something speci๏ฌc, or is this just run-of-the-mill stalking?
It took everything in me not to delete my profile. That I still get notifications for any mentions of him in the news will go to the grave with me.
I pull a five from my bag and slide it toward him. Then I push the bottle of water off to the side, turning my attention back to Paul. โI had no idea she attended UCLA. So you didnโt meet in Glenlake?โ
He shakes his head, taking in the spread of memories on the table. โWe had an art history class our sophomore year. She hated me from the start. Thought I was a cocky SOB. Which I was.โ At this, he winks and I grin, charmed. โI didnโt think too highly of her at first, though she was the most beautiful girl Iโd ever seen. Whip-smart and she wasnโt afraid to show it. I was intimidated by her, so I needled her a lot.โ
โNeedled?โ
โTried to get a rise out of her,โ Paul says, grinning. โShe didnโt like that much.โ
I laugh, imagining it. โShe was feisty.โ
โSounds familiar,โ Theo says into his cappuccino.
I twist in my seat, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. โFeistyย is the word youโd use to describe me?โ
He blinks innocently, and I get momentarily distracted by his long, curled lashes, the tiny freckle underneath his left eyebrow. โCan confirm it
starts with anย f.โ
Releasing an impatient breath, I turn back to Paul. โSorry, go on.โ
โWe got off to a bumpy start until one of her best girlfriends started dating my fraternity brother. Once she was forced to socialize with me, we discovered we were both from the Bay Area. I grew up here in the city.โ He traces his finger over one of the photos. โIt was a simple way to connect, but it led to us striking up a friendship that turned fond very quickly. We started dating not long after.โ
His hair moves in the breeze, and his hands are lined and spotted as they move over another photo. Despite the obvious signs of his age, he looks strong, at least a decade younger than he is.
Gram looked strong, too. Sheย wasย strong, driving like a demon up until the day before she died, when we went on a hike at Tennessee Valley. She played tennis with me regularly, and whupped my ass at it, too, even though I kept up the hobby after high school.
And yet she died in her sleep three days before Thanksgiving. She had the ingredients for her famous pumpkin pie stacked up on the counter. She wasnโt ready. I wasnโt, either.
A streak of jealousy runs through me like electricity. Like poison. I begrudge Theo for being able to grab a cup of coffee with his granddad when Iโll never see Gram again. It makes me want to grab onto Paulโs hand, hold him hostage until he tells me every detail of their story. Every anecdote about herโthat feistiness, the way sheโd clap her hands when something really delighted her. Her loud, boisterous laugh that could make your ears ring if she did it in a small room. The other things I apparently donโt know.
I want to twist my hands around his memories like Iโm wringing out a towel so I can get it all in one fell swoop.
โWhat happened?โ I ask. I canโt help myself. โI mean, the picturesโthat letterโyou were clearly in love. Why did you separate? You said she left school. Why?โ
Paul dips his chin, pinning me with a look equal parts stern and kind. โYouโre impatient to know it all right now.โ
โNo, not at all.โ I backpedal like my life depends on it. I donโt want him to stop talking because Iโve pushed too far.
Itโs only when Theo presses his finger against my knee that I notice itโs bouncing. โYouโre vibrating.โ
I push his hand away, rubbing the skin he touched, then cover it with my palm so he wonโt see the goosebumps.
โIโd like to tell you the story, Noelle, but itโs not going to happen all in one day,โ Paul says.
โGranddadโโ Theo starts, sitting up straight.
Paulโs gaze flickers to Theo, then back to me. A whisper of a smile alights on his lips, a secret one. โYou want to know everything, and Iโll answer any questions you have. But Iโd like to request more of your time to do so.โ
โOf course. I have nothingย butย time.โ Shit. That doesnโt sound like something a thriving person would say. โI mean, yes, I will absolutely find the time. Just tell me when and where.โ
โLet me check my date book when I get home,โ Paul says. โI do have a few things planned next week, and I donโt want to double-book you.โ
โGod forbid you miss poker afternoon with your frat buddies,โ Theo mumbles, but his voice is affectionate. It gives the texture of his voice a softer feel.
โSoon enough theyโll all be dead. Got to get my time in with them while I can,โ Paul replies jovially. He turns to me. โWhy donโt we exchange numbers and we can chat.โ
โThat sounds perfect.โ I input the number Paul rattles off into my phone, then call it so he has my number, too.
Theo leans forward to catch my eye. โIsnโt it easier if I message you with logistics stuff?โ
I spare him a glance. โNope. Paul and I can take it from here.โ
โRight.โ Theoโs phone starts shimmying with an incoming call. I catch the contact nameโDadโbefore he turns it facedown, his jaw tight. Paulโs eyebrows cinch together, his gaze lingering on his grandsonโs phone, as
Theo lets out a sharp breath. โAre we done for the day? I have to get back to work, and I need to drop this freeloader off at home first.โ
I push down my disappointment, reminding myself this is the beginning, not the end. โLots ofย Forbesย 30 Under 30 things to do today, huh?โ
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to absolutely destroy myself. Itโs the LinkedIn incident times ten.
But Theoโs reaction is nothing like I expect. He doesnโt smirk or say something cocky. Instead, itโs like watching someoneโs power switch get turned off. He just . . . shuts down.
โBye, Shepard,โ he says blankly, swiping his phone off the table. His chair screeches against the concrete as he stands and stalks a few paces away.
I have very little time to wonder how I wiggled my way out of that one, or what exactly crawled up Theoโs ass. Paul hands me the photos and letter, then takes my hand in both of his after Iโve tucked our treasures in my bag.
โIโm very glad you found me, Noelle,โ he says, his expression earnest, a mix of pleasure and melancholy. โI hope you get what you need out of this new friendship.โ
My throat pinches with emotion. โMe too. Weโll talk soon.โ
Paul walks to Theo, his hands in the pockets of his perfectly pressed khaki pants. Theoโs eyes slip past his granddad to me, and for an extended moment, we stare at each other. He breaks contact first, his hand slipping to Paulโs back to help him down the subtle slope in the sidewalk.
I let out a breath, suddenly exhausted. Exhilarated. Scared about what I might find out, and how that might reshape the picture Iโve painted of Gram.
I push that last emotion away and hike my bag onto my shoulder, preparing to make the trek back to my car.
But I swipe the fancy-ass sparkling water off the table before I go.
