He doesn’t get it.
Then again, how can I expect him to?
He’s not the one who killed someone.
“Dad—”
“Goddammit.” His nostrils flare on an inhale. “I haven’t asked you for a damn thing since you’ve been out. But, I need you to do this. If not for yourself, then for me.”
“Why? Why is me driving so important to you?”
“Because I don’t want you to keep punishing yourself,” he screams. “Hayley died that day…but so did you.”
He’s not wrong.
The party stopped the day I became a murderer.
The Oakley who used to joke, smoke, and fuck his problems away while living life to the fullest is long gone.
In his place is a man drowning in remorse.
Because it’s what I deserve.
That said—my dad’s right. He hasn’t asked me for much…or anything, for that matter.
However, the thought of getting behind the wheel of a car again isn’t something I can get down with.
Agitated, I scrub a hand down my face. “Can we shelf this conversation for now so I can nail this interview and get a job?”
I can tell the lawyer in him wants to argue some more, but the father in him drops it. “Fine.”
“Hi.” I stick out my hand. “I’m Oakley. Wayne Zelenka’s son. I’m here for the interview.”
The older man—who doesn’t even bother introducing himself, or shaking my hand—motions for me to follow him into an office marked maintenance. “You know how to use a mop?”
“I think I can manage.”
He throws a dark gray jumpsuit at me. “Put this on. I’ll get you a fancy name badge next week.”
I blink. “Does this mean I got the job?”
“That depends.” He sticks a toothpick in his mouth. “Can you start today?”
Does a bear shit in the woods?
“Yeah.”
He shoves a mop into my hands. “Your shift ends at eight, but you can take your lunch break at three-thirty.” He narrows his eyes. “I have two rules, kid.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t steal from me and don’t show up late.”
I start putting on my jumpsuit. “Got it.”
Chapter 4
Bianca
“Hey, you.” Stone greets me when I spot him outside my classroom.
Last semester we had the same break in classes so we could have lunch together, but this semester our schedules are completely opposite, so all we have are a few measly minutes to catch up before I grab lunch by myself and he heads off to another class.
Rising on my tiptoes, I give him a quick peck on the lips. “How is your day going so far?”
“Good.” Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me in for another kiss. “Excited to pick out a wedding dress later?”
Guilt punches me in the gut, but there’s no way I can tell him about the memory that prompted my sudden case of cold feet without him getting offended and flipping out.
So, I lie to spare his feelings.
And an argument.
“About that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “The bridal boutique called me earlier and said they accidentally overbooked. The earliest they can get me in now is February twenty-fifth.”
“No big deal. We’re not getting married until August, so you still have plenty of time to pick out a dress.” Glancing at his watch, he mutters a curse. “Hate to cut this short, Bourne, but I gotta go. I’m late for class.”
“Love yo—” I start to tell him, but he’s already walking away.
After sparing one more glance in his direction, I start my hike to the cafeteria.
The campus is huge, but the food they serve here makes the lengthy walk and wait worth it.
I usually stick to my typical turkey bacon club sandwich, but I’m craving something a little healthier today, so I opt for an apple and veggie wrap.
After grabbing my food and paying, I trek off to my favorite place.
The lake.
I was surprised to find out they had one on campus, but the moment I discovered the small piece of tranquil paradise nestled away from all the buildings, I fell in love.
Usually, I come here with Stone, but given our new schedule changes, I’m on my own.
Apparently not though because some guy is sitting on my bench eating a sandwich.
Yes, I know a bench is public property, but I’ve come to think of this as my spot.
The quiet place where I can get away from it all and clear my head.
Well, in between Stone droning on and on about how hard med school is and how he has no time.
Stifling a groan of irritation, I march down the hill and tread over to the guy. There’s an empty space next to him so he should have no problem sharing the bench with me.
“Do you mind if I—”
My words fall by the wayside the moment he comes into view.
He’s wearing some kind of gray jumpsuit, but it does little to hide the muscles lining his tall, lean frame. My breath catches as I take in the rest of him. Not only is his face flawless, with prominent cheekbones and full lips, he’s rocking some dark blond scruff along his chiseled jawline that’s the same shade as his hair.
I’d say he looks like a typical California surfer, but he’s so much hotter than that—not that I’m focused on his appearance because I have a fiancé I’m in love with.
I should look away because I’m practically gawking, but his eyes keep me prisoner. They’re a gorgeous blue hue—however, it’s the turmoil lurking in them that renders me speechless.
He looks lonely. Miserable, actually.
Almost like he needs a friend.
With that thought pressing me, I find my words. “Can I sit here?”
A whirlwind of emotions scatter across his face as he looks around the empty lake in disbelief, almost like he thinks he’s being punked.
Whatever the case, it’s clear he doesn’t want me around. “Sorry for bothering you, I’ll leave—”
“Stay.”
The simple, single word comes out like a plea.
As if he needs me.
So, I do.
However, trying to strike up a conversation with him is hard, because he goes quiet after that.
Which means all the talking is left to me. Awesome.
“It’s kind of crazy how no one really comes here.”
Then again, that’s part of the appeal. It’s the one place on campus that isn’t bustling with students and obnoxious people talking over each other.
The one place I can hear my own thoughts when the world gets too loud.
“My fiancé, Stone, told me about this place last semester,” I continue. “He suggested we eat lunch out here because he’s not too fond of being around people.”
Which is strange, I’m now realizing because he’s going to be a doctor. Interacting with humans is kind of a requirement.
“His schedule changed this semester though, so we don’t see each other as much as we used to,” I explain. “He’s in the premed program. Things are kind of hectic for him.”
That turmoil is back in his eyes when I look at my new friend again, but he remains silent.