Chapter 5
Shawn
Monday morning
Verra Convention Center
Manhattan, NY
Lilly was in there.
I stood on the busy street, just outside the convention center, ignoring the trickle of sweat running down my neck. My suit didn’t feel right. It weighed down my shoulders, itching my chest. I wanted to walk the other way and forget that I had to do this.
Because Lilly was in there.
At other events, there was always the chance she wouldn’t show up, and I could get through the day without having to see her. But her name was on my list of volunteers. I didn’t have the option of avoiding her this time. And I’d been standing out here long enough.
I’d already called the department heads. Stacey went ahead of me to greet the twenty teachers who volunteered for the charity event we’d been planning for weeks. There was work to do. Instructions to give out.
No reason to waste time standing out here.
Gritting my teeth, I exhaled hard through my nose and walked in. Just in time to hear the sound of chairs crashing against the hardwood floor.
There was a small crowd of teachers standing in the center of the cool room, and they jolted at the noise. Their necks snapped toward the left wall, watching as the pile of green plastic hit the ground, skidded, and spread. I rolled my eyes at them as I made my way to the mess, picking up the odd stray chair as I went.
I recognized Stacey and Mia, caught in the thick of it, groaning as they stood and bickered over whose fault it was.
“Look what you did,” Mia hissed.
“What I did?” Stacey snapped back.
“That’s enough,” I warned them. “I can’t leave for five minutes without something like this happening?”
Another teacher appeared at my elbow, stammering, “Sorry sir, we didn’t-”
“Just get down here and pick up a chair,” I told him, already exasperated.
While clearing the mess, I found a small foot wrapped in a tennis shoe. My stomach dropped. Lilly wore shoes like that.
There was a soft grunt, and the shoe disappeared behind another chair.
Shit. Was she under all this?
I lifted another chair, and there was the top of her head. Soft brown hair, with a hand pressed to it. Another chair later, there were her knees. One of them had a long red scrape down the side.
It wasn’t rational, but I was instantly pissed.
Who the fuck did this to her?
One final chair, and there she was. Wide green eyes staring down at her legs as she tugged the hem of her sundress down. An obvious blush across her freckled cheeks. Pretty pink lips pulled into a grimace.
Shit… Lilly Fares was here. Right in front of me. Sitting on the ground, under a stack of chairs, hurt.
The sight of her like this made my fingers flex. I wanted to pick her up and set her down somewhere comfortable, make sure that scrape was the worst of it–
No. Fuck no. Not again.
It’s been five years since I last spoke to her. Since I last touched her.
I should’ve been over her by now.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
But, as I leaned down, took her hand and pulled her up, I realized I already was–and it was too close.
She was too close.
Her eyes met mine, lips parting. On instinct, I ran my thumb across her knuckles, asking, “Are you hurt, Miss Fares?”
Her face dropped, confused and disappointed while I fought the hum just under my skin.
How do I turn this off? This fucking… feeling.
I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong. I wasn’t ready. Not for her.
But we were both here, and I had no choice.
Maybe the next six weeks would finally show me that I wasn’t still in love with her.
Yeah. And maybe hell would freeze over.