a parking lot. Sydney deserved better. Deserved more respect than that, for sure.
Not to mention how much more complicated this fake engagement would be if it turned physical. Well, more physical. The level of entanglement deepened. Her leaving in eighty-three days would be harder to handle.
Alex didn’t forget an extra round of self-flagellation for his hypocrisy, either. For telling his crew that none of them had time for hookups, let alone relationships. And then being the first one to dive right into a lip-lock.
What had he been thinking?
See, that was the problem. There’d been no thought.
He’d gone with his gut. With…feelings.
Alex had felt pretty crappy the last few months, after unjustly losing his job. After fighting to make it right and getting nowhere. Even after discovering that the dream lottery prize that fell into their laps was so much more decrepit and more money-sucking than they’d imagined.
Being with Sydney felt good. Great. Kissing her felt even better.
He’d given in to that. Been self-indulgent. Selfish.
No way could it happen again.
Sydney stretched her arm to trail her fingers across the bright red lockers. “They changed the color. I think these used to be gray. Maybe? It’s not like I came back for any of the reunions. I could be wrong.”
“I never understood those people in TV shows who remembered their high school locker combo when they take their kids back. I don’t remember which wing mine was on, let alone the combo.”
“Me, neither,” she said on a breathy laugh.
Oh, great. Another connection between them. Crap.
“The principal and vice principal didn’t both need to come out and inquire about my gram. I’ll have to be sure to mention it to her.”
Sydney sounded surprised. Which surprised Alex right back. “Isn’t that one of the biggest selling points of small-town life? Everyone cares about everyone else?”
The muffled thud of their sneakers was the only sound as they passed four classrooms. Interspersed with two more banks of lockers.
Finally, Sydney said softly, “I didn’t believe there was anything good about it. Or else why would my mom have left?”
Shit. That was nothing but lousy. Alex’s hand automatically reached out to stroke across her shoulder blades. “Your mom bolted from here? When you were a kid?”
“Yep. When I was seven. No explanation. Not to my dad, or Gram, or me, Kim and Campbell.”
How would someone be so callous? “It wasn’t something your dad hid until you were older? She really didn’t leave a note or anything?”
“No, she did not.” Sydney matched her stride to Alex’s. Leaned in a little until his arm was draped around her. “I adore my family. But I can unequivocally say that none of them are particularly high maintenance, or troublemakers.”
“What? You don’t want to throw your brother under the bus as being a handful?” he teased, trying to lighten the awful memory.
“Well, there was a stretch of years in there where I would’ve, but now in hindsight? Cam was just a normal kid. And normal kids annoy their little sisters.”
Alex remembered a time when that had been his daily goal, in fact. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that one. I’m sure Amelia would jump right on board that theory, though.”
“I’m not broken by it or anything. Gram and Dad were wonderful. I never thought that I’d driven her away. So…if it wasn’t me, or one of us, it had to be this town, right? This tiny, claustrophobic closet of a town. I became more sure of that with every passing year.”
Sydney didn’t sound mad. Or bitter. She sounded settled. As if what she stated was as much fact as Guinness tasting great poured over vanilla ice cream. “Maybe. Or…”
She stepped out of his embrace, holding up both hands. “If you’re going to tell me that you majored in psych in college and want to pick through my brain, stop right there.”
They rounded the umpteenth corner. Apparently the joint junior/high school had gone through a few growth spurts, so wings were just tacked on. And their destination of the shop classroom got moved to the furthest corner, for safety.
“No. Not that. No training, never had any therapy myself. Just another way to look at it, with the objectivity of a total outsider. Or I can keep it to myself.” For two people who were supposed to be keeping things shallow and impersonal, he’d almost jumped in with both feet. Alex stuffed his fists into his jean pockets to tamp down his stupid, reckless new habit of reaching for her.