Educating Holden (Wishing Well, Texas #11) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,51

for a year, and no one knew about it. I had a feeling he was the one that had actually gotten Alexis pregnant.

I pulled out the TV trays and looked for the remote. I was still searching for it when Mrs. Nelson came in carrying two plates.

“Are you lookin’ for the clicker, because I’ve got it.” She set the plates down and pulled the controller out of a pocket in her muumuu. “Can you go grab the drinks?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When I returned to the front room, the TV—that had to be as old as I was—was flickering to life and the ominous music began playing as the opening credits rolled.

“Has Sasha said if Xander is baby Lana’s father?” I figured since I had an inside source, I might as well make the most of it.

“No.” Mrs. Nelson shook her head. “She doesn’t tell me anything. No matter how much I beg. I lost my privileges the first year she was on the show after I accidentally posted on Facebook that Alexis wasn’t actually dead, she just got amnesia when she was backpacking in Europe.”

I hadn’t been watching the show then, but it did sound like a pretty big spoiler.

“Why? Do you think that Xander is the father?”

“Yes. And I think that he’s also the one that is having an affair with the nurse to break up Trent and Alexis’ marriage because he’s always been in love with Alexis.” Even as I heard myself speaking, I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth.

Maybe Bentley, my brothers, my parents, and Olivia were right. I needed to get a life. I had spent significantly more time with the over eighty set than I had with people my own age since I got back to town.

As soon as the show opening was over and it went to commercial, Mrs. Nelson turned to me. “I heard that Kenna Rogers was sniffing around.”

Sniffing around?

I doubted Kenna would appreciate her behavior being classified as that.

“She’s a lovely girl,” she continued.

I knew a fishing expedition when I heard one. Since I’d got back home, it seemed all anyone was interested in was who I was going to date, and when I was going to ‘settle down.’

“I’m sure she is.”

“But you’re not interested.”

This conversation felt like déjà vu. It was almost exactly the same as the one I’d had with Bentley and Travis at the bar.

“No, I’m not.”

“Is she not your type?”

“I don’t think I really have a type.” That was a lie. My type was Olivia Calhoun.

But since I couldn’t have her, then I didn’t have a type.

“Did you know that if Kenna had been a boy, her mama and daddy were gonna name her Kenny?”

“I actually did know that.”

“Me and the girls were talking, and we were wondering if you would be interested if Kenna had been born Kenny?”

“You ladies were discussing whether or not I’m gay?”

“You never dated anyone growing up. And you never brought any girls home. It doesn’t make a difference to us which way your bread is buttered, and Edith has a grandson that is very handsome and single if you—”

“I’m not gay.” That was another sentence I’d never thought I’d be saying to Mrs. Nelson.

“Well, then, what’s wrong with Kenna? She’s a lovely girl. And you know, you’re not getting any younger.”

“A few minutes ago, you called me a strapping young man.”

“Well you are, but the clock is ticking. Those looks are only going to last you so long. And all the good girls are getting snapped up.” Mrs. Nelson snapped her fingers to illustrate her point just as the ominous score from the show started playing signaling it was back from commercial. “Shhhh, it’s starting.”

I hadn’t been the one talking but since I had respect for my elders, I wasn’t going to point that out.

We sat in companionable silence as we watched the program and I wondered if Olivia was going to get snapped up soon. I was honestly shocked that she hadn’t been already.

After we spent the night together, she hadn’t stopped by again. We talked at yoga and when we’d run into each other. I wouldn’t say our friendship was back to being what it had been, but we were friends. The problem was, that was all we were. There’d been no more longing glances during class, no more morning yoga sessions, no more showing up at my door with fried chicken.

I’d been so worried about her getting attached or thinking that our night together was

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