Lisa nodded her head, almost giddy. “Much less slept with her!” A woman at our table shushed us, someone I didn’t recognize. I hoped my face expressed apology, but I really didn’t care.

  Tyler had been telling the truth the whole damn time.

  I let that one wash over me like a warm summer rain. Lisa continued nodding, a Cheshire cat grin on her face, and I could have hugged her except, at that very moment, Penny’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Lisa French, please come accept your prize.”

  How the hell had I missed prizes?

  Before my friend made it to Penny’s platform, Mike leaned closer to keep his voice low. “You missed a hell of an encore last night, Megan. Billy was already drunk, and Tamara was waving around that doctored letter, trying to make anyone and everyone convinced that Tyler was the kid’s dad. Tyler asked to see it, but she wouldn’t let him. Billy actually got angry and asked Tyler to step outside when Tamara started attacking his manhood.”

  I couldn’t quite envision it in my mind—but my heart was screaming at me.

  “Sorry, Mike. I gotta go.”

  As I made my way back through the room as quickly as I could, weaving through the tightly packed tables, I looked toward Lisa, planning to wave at her, but she was busy appreciating the basket of whatever the hell they’d given her.

  And I was on a mission.

  Why was I allowing my heart to feel light and alive? Why was I full of hope? This actually changed nothing. So big deal. Tyler wasn’t the father of Tamara’s kid. It didn’t change the fact that we still lived a thousand miles apart…lived completely different lives.

  It would never work.

  And so, I told myself, as I desperately began a search for Tyler, I still needed to apologize. I had to let him know I regretted all the things I’d said this morning.

  Regretted the things I’d thought and felt last night.

  Maybe we could never be together, but I didn’t want it to end this way.

  I was already at the elevators, punching the up arrow with my index finger as if constantly jabbing it would make one of them arrive at the ground floor faster. But the tedium of waiting forced my thoughts to catch up to me. Why had Tamara had such an easy fucking time convincing me?

  Because I hadn’t wanted this to work. This whole time, I’d been sabotaging any chance it might have had.

  The elevator made a ping sound before the two doors slid open. A well-dressed older couple exited, taking their sweet fucking time, and I had to force myself to be patient.

  And so what if I’d been self-sabotaging? Even if I’d wanted it to work, that didn’t mean Tyler had room or time for me in his life.

  Finally, I stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button that would take me to the third floor. And that goddamned elevator climbed, but it took forever.

  I just wanted to tell Tyler I was sorry. That was it. We needed nothing more.

  At last, the doors slid open on the third floor. Rushing to the right to exit the alcove, I then turned left in the long, well-manicured, indistinguishable hallway. What the fuck was Tyler’s room number?

  I couldn’t remember, so I was going to have to figure it out by feel. That room—suite, actually—was close to the end of the hall where it turned, and I recalled that the door was kind of by itself.

  A cleaning cart in the hallway told me housekeeping was already making beds and tidying up, and I passed two doors that were wide open. When I got to the room that I was absolutely positive was Tyler’s room, I took a deep breath. Then I knocked on the door.

  And waited.

  I knocked again.

  And waited some more.

  Enough time had finally passed that I realized he was either ignoring me or he’d already left.

  Walking back toward the elevator, I had to pause while the woman cleaning the rooms stood at her cart, blocking my progress down the hall while she grabbed a selection of towels and washcloths. She smiled at me before walking back into a room. “Good morning.”

  I greeted her back but my brain was already down the hall, and I had to stop myself from breaking into a sprint. During my trip back down the elevator, I questioned why this meant so damned much to me.

  It just fucking did.

  Out of the elevator, I made my way to the front desk. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, spilling over the marble floor, bathing the area in natural light. Even though the desk was large enough to accommodate multiple clerks, only one person attended the area at the moment and he was already helping someone who was checking out.

  While I stood there, my stomach tried to eat itself.

  Finally, though, it was my turn. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

  “I just need to know if Tyler Green has checked out. His room number is 374.”

  “Were you registered with him?”

  “No.”

  His dark brown brows twitched slightly. “I’m sorry, ma’am. That information is confidential.”

  “Look. I was just outside his room. I just need to know if I can come back later to see him or if he’s already left.”

  “Let me call the room.” The clerk tapped on a keyboard before looking up at me, his voice quiet. “Mr. Green checked out of his room. Quite some time ago, in fact.”

  Why had he decided the information wasn’t confidential after all? I wasn’t about to debate with him, instead muttering a flat thanks before turning away.

  This shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, Tyler had tried talking with me earlier that morning—and, when I’d refused, maybe he’d just left.

  And now, stupidly, I felt lost.

  I made my way back toward the ballroom, trying to convince myself that this was no big deal. Tyler had rocked my world over this weekend, but it had ultimately changed nothing in my life. In fact, the drama Tamara wreaked upon the reunion was enough to remind me that my day-to-day wasn’t so bad.

  So why the fuck did I feel so empty now?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The stupid reunion was trying its damnedest to never end. There was gushing and hugs and goodbyes and, had I not felt so numb and cold, I would have been pissed at my bestie for once more making me endure all the people stuff. But I’d muddled through and now Mike, Lisa, and I stood in the parking lot, talking as though we never wanted the party to end.

  Well…they were talking. I was ruminating.

  So much so that I barely noticed how close Mike was standing to Lisa.

  I heard Mike’s voice but hardly registered the actual words. “It makes you wonder what the hell was going on inside her head.”

  My gaze was focused on the concrete pavement at the other end of the lot, my brain replaying key events of the past three days.

  “Earth to Megan. Anyone in there?” Lisa snapped her fingers in front of my face.

  “What?”

  “Haven’t you been listening to us? You’ve been nodding your head and stuff.”

  It was nice to know my subconscious kept me looking like I was engaged but I most certainly hadn’t been. I was off in Megan world. “Sorry. I think I tuned out a little.” And my bestie was on another emotional high, unable to figure out what was going on with me—and, as nice as Mike was, I wasn’t about to spill all my guts with him around.

  “I just said I wondered what the hell was going on inside Tamara’s head.” Oh, God. Why were we still talking about her? “Why would she go to such lengths to convince everyone Tyler was the dad of her kid?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Someone was saying she heard Tamara’s been in and out of mental institutions since high school.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  I flashed a frown at Lisa. “Thanks a lot.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me feel sorry for her. It’s hard to be angry at her if it’s maybe not entirely her fault.”

  “You’re a saint, Meg.”

  “Not by a long shot. I said some pretty mean things to Tyler.”

  “Well…in all fairness, he knew Tamara way better than you. Maybe he should have said something.”

  I forced a smile as realization washed over me, and I tried to stave off the feeling that this reunion was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. “He didn’t necessarily know she was a fucking mental case.” Lisa started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s stupid.” Her cheeks grew pink as she looked from Mike to me. “I was just thinking Tyler should have known because Tamara’s always been your Madversary.” My brows furrowed as I began wondering if my friend was losing her mind. “You know—madversary? Mad adversary? She’s crazy. So that would be Tyler’s expertise.” I shook my head, a small grin on my face. “I told you it was stupid.”

  “I don’t know. I think it was kind of cute.” Mike winked at Lisa and her cheeks flared again, but her eyes communicated what was in her heart.

  At least this stupid fucking reunion wasn’t an entire wash for both of us…

  * * *

  I laid out paper cups before setting out two pitchers of iced tea for my book club. They’d said they wanted coffee, but I just couldn’t bring myself to serve it in August. It was too damn hot. If they complained, I’d give in for the next meeting, but I hoped they would like getting their caffeine in a cooler way, especially since the rain we got the day before made Thursday humid and unbearable. Coffee would feel like adding insult to injury.

  I’d make coffee in September.

  As I arranged the chairs, I reflected over the past month. My heart was beginning to feel a little less damaged after I’d reconciled myself to the fact that I’d fucked up with Tyler. But that didn’t matter. Just because he’d been my first love didn’t mean he’d be my last. There were other fish in the sea—and I’d just have to start swimming more. I hadn’t logged into a dating site since the reunion, but I’d already decided that I’d be a lot choosier in the future. If I got a meh vibe online, there was no sense even going through the motions. Life was too short.

  And I was embracing my book club. It had started out slowly but, as word spread, I’d gained more folks. Almost a dozen people might not sound like much, but we had amazing conversations about our new favorite books, and I wondered if having more people would ruin the vibe. If it ever got to that point, I’d consider limiting how many individuals could join. For now, though, it wasn’t a problem.

  Tonight we would be discussing one of my all-time favorite books, Paradise by Toni Morrison. I hadn’t read it since grad school, so it had been enjoyable poring through it again. In exchange, I agreed that our next book would be The Hunger Games, since two of my readers were dying to talk about that particular novel.

  Soon, I had nine people in the room and it wasn’t long before we started chatting. I’d passed around sheets of discussion questions, but those usually just kicked off the conversation. Everyone in the group brought so much varied insight that we so far had never gone through all the discussion topics I’d brought. Some folks even brought notebooks and jotted in them as we talked; others had sticky notes inside their books or highlighted or underlined sections in pencil.

  In my professional life, I felt more fulfilled than I ever had before—which meant I was in no hurry to tackle my personal life. I had time, but first I had to heal completely.

  As I watched people trickle into book club and smile at the iced tea, I felt gratitude that I had this time—and them—to help with that.

  Soon, we were all raring to go, and one of the middle-aged women in my group offered her initial thoughts. “I didn’t know what to think when I first started reading the book.” Three other people nodded their heads. “I’ve never read any of Morrison’s books, and so it felt a little difficult at first, kind of confusing, but then I got into it. I absolutely loved it.”

  “I think I already told you guys this is one of my favorite books, so I’m really glad you wound up liking it.” I looked at my paper that had all of our questions. “So it’s pretty obvious that the town of Ruby, Oklahoma, is dying because it’s stuck in the past. Reverend Misner symbolizes new ideas—the present and, perhaps, the future. What are some symbols throughout the book that represent tradition and, conversely, what represents the new?”

  If I’d just thrown this question at them, I would have felt guilty, but they’d had the questions with them since our last meeting, so they’d had time to think about them while reading the book and pondering it afterward.

  I saw their eyes light up, ready to begin sharing all their thoughts, but then I heard footsteps behind me coming through the doorway. Either we had a newcomer or we had someone arriving late. One of the women in the group paused, her words stuck in her throat, as she looked behind me—and her eyes told me that the person entering wasn’t one of our original group.

  I turned—and then nearly fell over backward in my chair. Tyler Green stood in the doorway, wearing a plain black t-shirt and brand-new blue jeans.

  And in his hands was a copy of Paradise.

  “Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that the Oven symbolizes the old and the traditional in Ruby.” Walking across the circle, he sat in an empty chair across from me, next to one of the middle-aged women in my class. I would have thought my two older ladies would have scowled at his tattooed arms, but they were instead enraptured by his words and, probably, his gorgeous face.

  I know I was left breathless.

  “Name’s Tyler, by the way. So look at everything in the book that happens with the Oven…” As Tyler continued talking, I felt my heart swell to almost bursting. He’d actually read the book.

  He had no idea how fucking sexy that was—and the questions I had on the paper I held were nothing compared to the questions in my head.

  * * *

  After the last person left two hours later (taking longer than usual because, of course, a couple of folks knew exactly who our new guest was and wanted to chat for a while longer), Tyler and I were alone at last—but I suddenly felt all talked out.

  Why was I flying high, though? Just because Tyler had read one of my favorite books of all time and showed up at my book club, I shouldn’t be so excited. I needed to first understand his intention.

  It was hard with him so near, because I found it hard to concentrate.

  So I focused on my tasks at hand. “What can I do to help?” Tyler asked.

  “Grab those unused paper cups and napkins, please, and follow me.” I led him down the hall to a “room” that used to be a closet but that I now affectionately called my office. The space held everything I used for my book club. There was an old metal coffee pot and other java supplies that took up almost an entire shelf. I had Tyler put the unused supplies there while I opened the door next to it, a small room with a toilet and sink, and I rinsed out the pitchers.

  “Okay, now what?”

  Snatching two paper towels out of the dispenser, I handed one to Tyler with a pitcher and started drying out the other pitcher. “Maybe you could answer a few questions for me.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows, a sly grin spreading over his face, lighting up his rich brown eyes. “Shoot.”

  “First question: what the hell are you doing here?”

  Tyler refrained from laughing, but I could tell he understood from my tone that I was being playful. “I thought your book club was for book lovers—you know, that anyone could attend.”

  “True. But I expected people from Winchester and the surrounding area. The public library is for citizens of Winchester County.”

  Shrugging slightly, Tyler’s eyes twinkled with a secret. “I’m working on that.”

  My breath caught in my throat as my brain swirled myriad thoughts, none of which made any sense. Needing to feel grounded, I walked around Tyler and put the tea pitchers on the shelf before closing the closet door. “Wait. Have you been here in town all week?” I couldn’t look at him, needing to process the emotions stirring through my veins, so I walked back down the hall to the meeting room with Tyler following.

  “No. I was visiting my parents and sister in Denver.”

  Why did I feel like I was playing Twenty Questions? Nodding, I began stacking chairs and Tyler helped. “So how did you know about…this? My book club?”

  “Don’t you remember telling me about it last month at the reunion?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess.”

  “It wasn’t that hard for me to call the library and ask for details—and the guy I talked to told me everything I needed: date, time, and the book you would be discussing. Not that hard to do. Mom and dad go to bed pretty early, which leaves a lot of time for reading. Someone once told me it’s therapeutic.”

  Yeah, that would be yours truly. My eyes drifted down to the concrete floor as I processed everything. And I had no words. I wanted to believe, wanted to hope—but something deep inside me was afraid. I’d started to believe that maybe life was just meant to be the way it was. I’d been dealt an okay hand—not a winner, but not necessarily a loser, either—and I simply needed to settle in.

  Tyler, though…he was making it fucking hard to accept reality.

  But I hadn’t seen this man for several weeks, and there was something I had to say to him. “Hey…I wanted to apologize for the way things panned out at the reunion. I, uh, I said some things I shouldn’t have, and I had no way to get a hold of you.”

  “And you found out the truth?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I nodded, forcing myself to look in Tyler’s clear, beautiful eyes. “Yeah, that Tamara was full of shit. She was just so convincing. That paper looked so real.”

  “That’s because it was real, Meg. She just whited out Billy Prescott’s name and typed mine over it—and then made a photocopy so it wasn’t easy to see. She changed that document years ago, and she’d almost convinced me I was the poor kid’s dad—even though logically the timeline didn’t quite work.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “You got that right. But that’s what Tamara does. That’s what she’s done since we were in high school. She makes shit up because she finds it more exciting than real life.”

 

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