Our Favorite Days Read online

  “Maybe I’ll give you a blow job later,” she said, patting my cheek as I pouted at her. She laughed at my growl and change in expression. The things this girl could do to me.

  I kissed her goodbye and squeezed her ass so she wouldn’t forget me for the rest of the day.

  “You’re trouble,” she said as I let go.

  “But I’m your kind of trouble.” She turned and I listened to her laugh echo as she walked into the building.

  Since upper level classes were small, I generally saw the same thirty or so people in every one. Even though I was going to be a music teacher, I still had to take classes on teaching math, science, English and social studies. It probably wasn’t a bad idea, since if I couldn’t find a job teaching music, I could fall back on something else. I gravitated toward English or social studies since I loved reading. More so now that I was with Taylor. She was always finding new books and lending them to me. Or, as she would say, I was always stealing them. Psh, semantics.

  “Hey,” I said to Summer as I dropped into the seat next to hers before Teaching Reading and Language Arts. “Nice hair.” Last week it had been a startling shade of turquoise, but today it was a vibrant purple. She looked up and blew her bangs out of her face.

  “I had to bleach the shit out of my scalp, but it was totally worth it.” She grinned at me and I shook my head. Between the hair, her eyebrow piercing and the tattoos up and down her arms, she didn’t exactly look like the traditional teacher, but I didn’t think she cared. I wasn’t one to talk, with all my tattoos.

  “It looks great,” I said and she opened one of her glitter-covered notebooks. There was nothing quiet about Summer, from her look to her inability to filter any of her thoughts. She reminded me a little of Taylor, which was how we’d become friends and study buddies. Plus, neither of us really had the traditional “teacher look” which made us stick out.

  Class started and my focus turned toward the professor, but, like always, part of my mind was thinking about a certain brunette with a smart mouth who was currently sitting in her own class. Hopefully thinking about me. Sometimes I sent her little sexy texts during the day to make sure she was.

  Taylor’s and my schedules didn’t match up for lunch, so I hung out with Summer. Mase stopped by to grab a sandwich and stuff it in his face before waving and heading off to his next business class.

  “There is a lot of good DNA in your family,” Summer said as he left. “I mean, if I was even a little bit bisexual…” I laughed as her eyes slid from Mase to a tall blonde wearing high-heeled boots that walked in the opposite direction.

  “Sorry,” I said, chuckling a little as she glared at me.

  “Whatever.” She glowered down into her bowl of soup.

  “Hey, you’re going to find someone. You should hang out with my crew. Love can be contagious sometimes.” It was true that everyone who lived at Yellowfield House had managed to find someone who was their match. Renee was always looking for a new “project” to work on. Right now it was Jos’ friend Hannah. Brett, the guy she liked, was obviously interested, but Hannah didn’t seem to want to give him a chance, no matter how hard he tried. I knew all about that. I’d never worked so hard at anything when I was trying to get Taylor.

  “Hanging out with a bunch of people who are all coupled up? No, thank you.” She picked up her tray and went to toss it. Summer’s personality was intense, in both a good and a bad way. Still, I didn’t think she’d have any problems snagging the right girl. There was just something about her that made you want to be around her.

  After my classes got done for the day, I headed to the library to squeeze in a few hours of work. Granted, I didn’t have to work, but I refused to be one of those guys who lived off their trust fund and spent their days sleeping and their nights getting wasted. I wanted to show Taylor that if worse came to worse, I could support myself, and her, if I had to.

  When I walked into the kitchen that night I caught Darah and Mase in the process of making up. He had her up on the counter, standing between her legs as he kissed the shit out of her. I cleared my throat and he pulled back. Darah went red as hell, but Mase just lifted an eyebrow.

  “Dinner in a few,” he said, brushing his fingers through Darah’s dark hair. She hid her face in his shoulder and he chuckled.

  “Got it,” I said, giving them a little salute before heading to the living room. What I found stopped my heart.

  Taylor was on the floor, holding my guitar and picking out a few chords. She’d learned a few basic songs and I couldn’t be prouder. She started to play a basic chord progression and added her husky voice. I recognized the song immediately. “Fix You” by Coldplay.

  I could measure our relationship in songs. Coldplay was our first official date, when I’d brought my guitar and sang for her.

  I’d had the idea while we were eating dessert. Just another way I could say I was sorry. Not that there were ever enough ways to say sorry for being such an asshole to her. Any guy could take her out to dinner, but I’d wanted to make sure she remembered this.

  All I’d needed was my guitar.

  “Would you excuse me?” Taylor raised an eyebrow at my polite tone and I had to hide a smile. “I’m being a gentleman, don’t ruin it.”

  “Yes you may be excused, Mr. Zaccadelli,” she said, a little puzzled.

  “Thank you, Miss Caldwell. I will return momentarily.”

  I couldn’t look at her as I walked back inside, guitar in hand, and headed toward the piano.

  I fished some cash out of my wallet and sidled up to the dude playing the piano for “ambience.”

  “Hey, I know this is probably a crazy idea, but would you mind if I played?” I held up the guitar. “It’s my anniversary with my girlfriend. I want to do something extra special for her.” The guy seemed like he was ignoring me, but then he looked up and nodded as I slid a fifty into his hand.

  “If this gets me laid, I have you to thank,” I said and he cracked a smile as he finished the piece. The silence was almost deafening. A waiter came over to see what was going on and the piano man explained the situation. Fuck, I only had so much money to pay these people off so I could do this.

  Fortunately, the waiter seemed to be on board and even brought me a stool and moved the mic for me.

  “Hello, everyone,” I said, a little nervous, but telling myself to calm the fuck down. “I’m sorry to disturb your dinner. I’ll only take a few moments of your time.” I adjusted my guitar and hoped that no one could tell that I was freaking out inside.

  “I just wanted to play a little song for my girl, Taylor, over there. She agreed to come here with me tonight, even after I wasn’t very nice to her. This is part of my apology. I hope you like it.” I hadn’t been able to look at her up until then. She was blushing and it was cute as hell. This whole thing was worth it just to see that.

  I started the song and let myself get lost in the music, as always. I could feel her eyes on me. Everything else disappeared and it was just her and me.

  I couldn’t explain why the song made me think of her, but it did. Something about the melody and the intensity that built throughout and then it went back to soft at the very end. A whisper and a storm all at once. Her eyes watched me the whole time and the look on her face was worth potentially angering all the other people in the restaurant. She saw me. And not just as an irritation that she had to put up with. Not just the guy who was always trying to get in her pants. She saw me as a guy that she might be proud of. A guy that she might have feelings for.

  Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. I half-expected her to want to punch me when I got back to the table. Still worth it.

  “I’m sorry, Missy. Thank you for listening,” I said after I’d finished to some polite applause. I didn’t care what anyone else had to say. Just her.

  But she was silent as I sat back down at the table.

  “Well?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.

  “I don't really
know what to say.” That almost made me laugh.

  “You’ve never been at a loss for words in your life. Let me have it. You hated it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Her fingers slipped on the strings and she stopped, frowning.

  “Keep going,” I said and she startled as she looked up at me. Her face lit up and my heart stopped again.

  “Stop judging me, Mr. Musical Prodigy. I hate it when you watch me like that.” Still, she was smiling as she said it and I went to join her on the floor. Loud voices came from the basement where I assumed Renee, Paul and Dusty were probably playing Call of Duty. Dusty might as well move in, since he was here all the time and his apartment was a shithole.

  Napoleon, his cat, was already a permanent fixture at Yellowfield House and absolutely spoiled rotten by all of us.

  “How was your day, dear?” I asked Taylor as she handed over the guitar.

  “Fine, my darling. I got an email about working at the crisis center and I get to start training next week.” This time her eyes lit up for a different reason.

  “That’s great. They’re going to be lucky to have you.” She rolled her eyes at my compliment, even though it was true. She was majoring in women’s studies and couldn’t wait to get her feet wet and get some experience helping women and children. My Missy Girl was wonderful like that. She helped everyone she met, even if she didn’t know she was doing it. Including me.

  “Hey, so I was thinking we can go down and have dinner with my family this weekend?” They all adored her and I was pretty sure my aunt, Hope, loved Taylor more than she loved me. I knew my cousin Harper definitely did and it wasn’t just because Taylor had the same name as Harper’s favorite singer.

  “Oh, that would be awesome! I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve seen them, even if it’s only been a few weeks.” I strummed the guitar and then started playing “Style” by Taylor Swift. She giggled at my song choice, but we both knew all the words to all the songs on Taylor’s 1989 album. Her voice joined mine and we played through a few more of the songs.

  “I love that you’re not emasculated by liking Taylor Swift,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek as Mase called everyone for dinner.

  “Why would I be emasculated by liking amazing music?” I asked and she put her arm around my waist.

  “And that is why I love you.”

  “Not the only reason, though, right?”

  We both sat down and she turned to me.

  “Not the only reason. One of many.”

  “Good.”

  Mase and Darah usually joined us when we went to visit Hunter’s family, but they both had something going this weekend, so it was just Hunter and me heading to the house. I had to admit, when I’d first seen it, I’d been stunned into silence. I hadn’t known Hunter came from money and that was my first glimpse of the enormity of it. Even after spending tons of time here, it still smacked me over the head when I got out of the car and looked up at the massive façade.

  “You do that every time,” Hunter said, chuckling and taking my hand.

  “Well, I feel like it gets bigger every time I’m here,” I retorted and he squeezed my hand and gave me a smile that made my insides turn over.

  “Come on, Missy Girl.”

  The second we walked in the door, Harper, Hunter’s niece, dragged me to her room to show me her new American Girl doll. I had to admit, eleven-year-old me was totally jealous. The whole thing was made infinitely cuter by the fact that Harper and the doll had matching clothes and the doll even had a little wheelchair just like Harper’s. Harper had cerebral palsy and used a motorized chair to get around. I loved watching her chase Hunter around the apple orchard, her giggles making everyone else laugh too.

  When we got back downstairs via the elevator, Hope was setting out an impressive spread in the formal dining room. Now that she knew I was a vegetarian, she always made something just for me, even though I’d told her a hundred times that I could get by on sides, rolls and salad. She also always sent us home with one or two pies. I swear, I’d gained ten pounds since I started coming here.

  “You look lovely,” she said with her beautiful southern accent. Hunter was originally from Texas, but his drawl only came out every now and then, especially when he wanted something from me. He knew that was a sure way to make me give in to his demands.

  “Thank you, so do you.” Even after nearly a year of knowing her, she still intimidated the hell out of me. She was all polish and charm and perfect jewelry and refinement. I felt like a dirty slob next to her, even though I was wearing my nicest skirt and a lacy shirt that Hunter had picked out for me that morning. He got a kick out of picking out my clothes, so I let him do it every now and then.

  It was just Hunter, me, Hunter’s aunt and uncle, and Harper.

  “No Joe?” I asked and Hunter shook his head. Joe was a family friend and also a lawyer who handled Hunter’s parents’ estate and the payouts to Hunter.

  “Nope, he’s on a cruise with his wife in the Bahamas,” Hunter said.

  “I wish I was in the Bahamas,” Hope said with a meaningful look at her husband who put his hands up in surrender.

  “Cruise, cruise!” Harper said, clapping her hands together.

  “Uh oh, you’re committed now,” Hunter said and we all laughed. If Harper wanted to go on a cruise, her parents would buy a damn ship for her.

  After we all stuffed ourselves on another of Hope’s delicious pies, Hunter and I went up to his room to hang out a little. Since we were already “living in sin” there were no rules about closed doors, but I refused to have sex with him while everyone was home. It just weirded me out.

  “But my bed is so much bigger than yours and doesn’t have Disney princess sheets,” he said, trying to convince me. I snorted. I would never get over seeing Hunter sleeping on my childhood bed, covered in sheets that had princesses on them.

  “I said no.” He pouted his gorgeous mouth and I had to turn away from him so I wouldn’t cave.

  “So I have a question for you,” he said in a different tone of voice that made me face him again.

  “Yes?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I didn’t know what the hell was going to come out of his mouth next.

  “What are your feelings about eloping?” At first I wanted to ask him to repeat himself to make sure I’d heard him correctly.

  “Eloping?” He looked up and nodded, his face suddenly serious.

  I crossed the room and sat down next to him on his bed.

  “Um, I think that if I get married and my mother and Tawny aren’t there, the police are never going to be able to find your body.” He snorted, but I was only half-kidding.

  “Just because I want to wait to marry you, doesn’t mean I don’t want to. You’re it for me, Hunter. You always have been and you always will be.” I grabbed his chin and placed a kiss on his mouth, but he didn’t melt like he usually did when I used my wiles on him.

  “I just feel like it’s so far away and it seems like bad luck to wait.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re pulling the superstitious card on me?” He rubbed his arm where the number seven was inked.

  “Yes and no. I just… I want you to be my wife and I don’t see what’s going to change between now and when we graduate that’s enough of a reason to wait. I’m all in.” My heart squeezed at his words. I loved hearing them, but they also touched something else in me.

  Fear.

  I was fucking terrified of getting married.

  Sure, I’d said I would and the proposal had been one of the best days of my life, but actually walking down the aisle and signing a legal document with him? Scared me like hell.

  I hadn’t told Hunter about my fears because I didn’t want him to take it the wrong way. It wasn’t him. It was everything else that went with marriage. The financial aspects and the fact that we’d be so tied together. I just didn’t feel ready.

  Ready to be someone’s wife.

  I j
ust shut down. I couldn’t make the words happen and Hunter, being the wonderful guy he was, grabbed me up in a hug.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. We can talk about it another time.” He was giving in again. For me. He was always doing so much for me and sometimes it made me feel guilty, but if I told him to stop, he’d just do something even more crazy, like take me on a surprise cruise.

  “I’m sorry too. I love you,” I said into his shirt as I inhaled his comforting scent of cinnamon and warm spice.

  “More than the stars,” I added, because that was the only thing to say.

  “More than the stars,” he echoed.

  I hadn’t seen my friend Megan in ages, so I called her on Sunday to see if she wanted to hang out sometime soon. I also needed to ask her advice about marriage. She was engaged to her longtime boyfriend, Jake, and planning a lavish (as much lavish as they could afford) wedding.

  She was ecstatic to hear from me and suggested that we meet at a craft store. She was making her own centerpieces and needed supplies. Her wedding wasn’t for ages, but she was doing a little at a time. I couldn’t even wrap my head around what kind of centerpieces I’d have for my own wedding. When it happened.

  I left work on Monday and drove Sassy, my red Dodge Charger, to the local craft store in Bangor. Megan squealed when she saw me and we shared a hug. Last year we’d spent so much time together, but since we both lived on opposite sides of town and had crazy schedules, we didn’t get a whole lot of time to spend together these days.

  “I miss you like crazy,” she said and I agreed. “How’s your man?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” I said, staring down at my beautiful ring.

  “Uh oh, trouble in paradise?” she said as we passed a display of glittered fake flowers.

  “Not exactly. He asked me if I wanted to elope.” I couldn’t look at her when I said it.

  “Yeah? And what was your response?” I shrugged.

  “I mean… I can’t do that. My mom and sister would flip their shit and I think my dad wants to walk me down the aisle.” I had a difficult relationship with him, but we were sort of in the process of repairing it. I still wasn’t ready to forgive him for running off and leaving us, but he was trying and I had to give credit where credit was due.