Page 40 of Halo

“Hey, yourself.” She giggles, a lilt to her words as her eyes drop across my body. “Can I help you? With something?”

I blink, casually glancing around the space. “Um, yeah, I’m here to pick up Grady Stone.”

“Oh. You’re Dad! We are so happy to finally meet you.”

Shit. I haven’t discussed with Tiffany yet if and when we’re going to tell Grady.

The secretary continues, becoming more serious. “If you don’t mind waiting a minute. Mr. Torres, the VP, wants to chat with you and his teacher, Ms. Harrison.”

Double shit. I don’t want to talk to grown-ups. Nobody warned me about this.

“Great.” I offer a grin. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I meander around the space. My attention catches on a bulletin board, crowded with flyers, district newsletters, and a weekly cafeteria menu.

“Nick!” Grady hurdles toward me, throwing his arms around my leg.

“Well, hey there, partner!” I bend down, resting a hand on his back. “I heard you were having a rough day.”

He stills. Fidgeting with his glasses, he hangs his head. “I-I got in trouble, but I-I wasn’t trying to be bad.”

“I know. It’s going to be okay. We’ll talk about it, alright?” I squat down, sitting on my heels before wrapping him in a tight embrace, holding him close. As he begins to fist my shirt, a breath catches somewhere behind my ribs, forcing me to swallow around the sudden lump in my throat.

Sometimes we just need to be held.

Maybe we have time to create the in-between.

“Mr. Crawford?”

I freeze.

That voice—that heavenly voice—that settles under my skin like warm sunshine and honey. A voice that somehow calms me and unravels me at the same time.

It can’t be.

Standing to my full height, I slowly pivot, and instantly, my gaze collides with hers. Her dark eyes widen in surprise, framed by wavy hair that spills past her shoulders, a small braid tucked neatly behind one ear.

I exhale heavily.

“You.”

Chapter 11

Nick

The room fades under the pounding of my heart.

Of all the schools in this city. Of all the teachers in this district. Of all the ways this day could have unfolded, I never considered the possibility that Grady's teacher would be Leah, the woman who occupies an embarrassing amount of space in my thoughts since the night we met.

How is she even more beautiful than I remember?

Except there's an intensity in her expression that wasn't there at the bar, something sharp enough to cut through my initial shock. Her kind eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I can't tell whether she's surprised, disappointed, or simply unhappy to see me.

I've thought about this moment more times than I care to admit, wondering what I'd say if I ever got the chance to see her again.

This is not how I pictured it.

Before I can form a coherent thought, Leah smooths her expression into something polite and professional. Stepping forward, she shifts the stack of books and papers in her arms onto her hip, and extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Crawford. I’m Grady’s teacher, Ms. Harrison.”

For a brief moment, I just stare at her outstretched hand, the déjà vu catching me off guard.