Win Me Over (30 page)

“I'm already hurting, Bennett. It hurts to love someone and have him push you away out of fear. It hurts bad.”

His eyes jerked up to hers and they stared for a long time. She couldn't believe what she'd just admitted. Wasn't even sure if he was in the right frame of mind to understand. But she'd said it out loud. She loved this man.

This wounded, impossible, and amazing man. All she wanted was for him to love her back. It appeared he might never choose to return her feelings. Whether they lived inside him or not, it might not matter. He had built walls between them and the bricks were made of his guilt, his shame, and his fears. Why couldn't he see that none of that had anything to do with the two of them?

He stepped away from her and suddenly she was certain what was about to come out of his mouth. She couldn't take it.

“Don't you dare say ‘I'm sorry.' I'll hate you for it.”

*   *   *

“You guys ready for this?” Callie called over her shoulder. Anne, Lindsey, Eric, Emma, Corinne, Jill Monser, and several other dance moms nodded their heads. They were all sporting #tatenation T-shirts and huge smiles on their faces. “Okay. Let's make some money.”

The line outside of Callie's Confections Wednesday morning was down the sidewalk. Callie flipped the Open sign and unlocked the door. The first person in was Reggie himself.

“Hmm, mmm. It smells good in here. I got fifteen minutes till I need to be at school,” Reggie said, heading straight for the counter.

And on it went, all morning, customers flowing in steadily. They were selling fresh goods at the counter, had a prepackaged station that took cash only for quick sales, and a T-shirt table. Eric had spent nearly the whole entire morning making coffee and restocking the buffet of creamer, stir sticks, and lids. It had been nuts there for a while between seven and nine.

Thankfully everyone had been incredibly patient and kind, expressing their love for the idea, their love for Tate and the school. The whole town of Preston and beyond was stricken that such a tragedy had happened in their community. By noon they'd nearly sold out and Callie headed back into the kitchen to bake more cookies and cupcakes. They were staying open until 7:00 in order to give everyone—even daytime workers and students—a chance to get in and purchase something.

After she pulled one batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven Callie heard cheering from the front of the shop followed by the kitchen door bursting open. Anne carried an armload full of pizza boxes from the pizza shop down the street.

“Look what Pie Mia sent down for us. On the house.”

Callie's eyes went wide. “Wow, that's so kind. And awesome. I think I could eat my weight in pizza right now.”

They cleared some counter space and dug into the boxes. Callie groaned in delight when she found a chicken, goat cheese, and onion pizza. She motioned Lindsey and Anne over to help themselves.

“I think this is the best one I've ever eaten,” Lindsey said.

“Everything tastes better when you truly deserve it. And we deserve this,” Callie said before double-fisting her second slice.

The helpers ate and chatted, taking turns to work out front so everyone could get a break to eat. Callie opened her laptop. She'd been up till one in the morning finishing her blog post on s'mores cupcakes. She'd posted it at five this morning and was curious how it was doing. She clicked open the blog. The post wasn't there. A different post was at the top, with what appeared to be one of Tate's senior photos. He was so handsome, his happy face made Callie smile. And then she read, her eyes filling with tears.

Our Dearest Readers,

I'm sitting here in my warm kitchen, watching my beautiful daughter eat breakfast. I'm sure many of you are having a similar morning. However, here in our small community, another parent is hurting. His son, Tate, an extremely talented high school quarterback, was tackled Friday night and suffered a serious head injury. He's in a coma and we don't know what will happen. The only thing we can do is try and help. He's a single dad and I can relate very well to what that means. We can't ease his suffering, but we can help to ease his financial burden. I realize many of you aren't in a position to help—and that's okay—but if you can, any little bit would be so greatly appreciated. We've also set up a site page for well-wishes and encouragement for Tate and his family. Hug and kiss your loved ones today, and never take one second for granted.

Anne

There was also a video of some local news coverage about Tate and his accident. Probably so everyone would know that the request was legitimate and could see the details. Callie wiped the tears from her eyes and clicked on the fund-raising link. There was already $3,800.

“Oh, Anne.” Callie sobbed, immediately walking around the work counter to wrap her arms around her friend's shoulders. “Thank you.”

Anne hugged her back, leaning her head on Callie's. “It's the least we could do. I know that this boy is important to Bennett, and I know Bennett is important to you, and you're important to me. That's how this works. Never mind that helping others is just the right thing to do.”

Callie pulled back and sucked in her stuffy nose. The other ladies had circled around the laptop to read Anne's post as well.

By three that afternoon most of the day help had left, and the entire dance team was there as soon as school was out to pick up where the others had left off. Immediately Callie realized that the girls were all sporting little yellow and blue beaded bracelets. She lifted Jessica's arm and read the tiny metal piece in the center. It said: “#tatenation.” It was precious and Callie was pretty sure she recognized the craftsmanship.

“Where did you get this?” Callie asked.

“Sweet Opal. Brooke, the owner, has spent the past three days making tons of them. Everyone at school has one, even teachers. She even has a guy version made out of leather. All the money is going to the Graysons' FundMe account.”

Callie's shoulders dropped in shock. She was in awe over what everyone was doing to help. “Well, somebody needs to go buy me one!” she cried in mock annoyance.

The girls laughed and two of them volunteered to run down the street and do just that. She called after them, “Hey, wait. Here, take Brooke some of these cupcakes.”

Callie loaded a box and sent the girls on their way just as a Kansas City news crew walked in the front door. They were all shocked as the crew proceeded to film some coverage of people buying up baked goods, interviewing a couple of the girls and then asking Callie if she would do a quick interview for the six o'clock news.

She rushed to the bathroom to adjust her hair and check to make sure mascara rings didn't line her eyes. She was … passable. She didn't look like any beauty queen, but that didn't matter. Not at all. She went back out front and answered a few questions, explained why they wanted to help, and soon the news crew was gone. The entire thing had taken maybe thirty minutes.

By six they'd officially sold out entirely and decided to call it a day. She needed to be at the dress rehearsal in thirty minutes. “Girls, I'm so proud of you my heart could burst.”

The girls all said their good-byes and within twenty minutes Callie sat alone in the bakery. She glanced at her phone. It was nearly 6:30. She had no idea if Bennett would show up tonight. She wanted to believe he would, but a deep part of her feared the worst.

 

Eighteen

He never came. Not for the rehearsal the night before, not for the cocktail hour this evening, and he wasn't there now, for dinner. Callie felt like she might suffocate, surrounded by the happy conversation and smiling faces of the people seated around her at the table. She still wasn't sure which emotion was more prevalent, anger or sadness. Or maybe they'd both meshed into an agony so acute she couldn't begin to process what she was feeling.

Was this the kind of suffering that Bennett was going through? No, his had to be worse, because right now—as much as her heart ached—she still longed for him here. Wished he would walk through the door. He clearly wanted nothing to do with her, anything, or anyone. So either his anguish had rendered him incapable of functioning, or he was the world's biggest, most selfish, asshole.

The truth was she hadn't been surprised. She'd texted him, told him she'd see him tonight. He'd never responded.

But even though the event had started, he could still make it.

If he wished.

Callie sucked in a deep breath and glanced around. The Millard looked lovely. She hadn't seen it since the remodel and she was impressed. She'd never be a member at the exclusive club—which was just fine by her—but she could see the appeal.

The main ballroom was decorated in shades of blue and gold. There were even blue uplights illuminating the walls. Callie wondered if that had been the plan all along in honor of the community or if it was a last-minute switch. Either way, it was beautiful. And fitting in light of recent events. The round tables had varying floral centerpieces, some tall, some short, all lit by the crystal chandeliers on the ceiling. The chairs were covered with white covers and gold bows and the clink of tableware and conversation filled the air.

She picked up her white wine and took a sip, trying desperately not to feel ridiculous with the seat beside her vacant.

“The chicken was delicious,” Anne said from Callie's left side.

Callie pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. “Yes, it is.”

“How do you know if you haven't tried it?”

Callie gave Anne a small smile. “Sorry.” Callie cut a piece of chicken and took a bite. It was good, but she had no appetite.

Eventually the servers cleared their plates and Anne made her way to the center of the room once more to get the festivities going. Callie felt like she might be sick. She excused herself from the table and went out into the lobby.

A long mirror ran the length of the wall above an antique buffet. She glanced at herself. She'd put her hair up; tendrils escaped the edges, framing her face. The green bodice of her dress brought out the color of her eyes. The longer she stared at her own reflection the more hopeless she felt. Tears dropped from the corners of her lashes; she hadn't even felt them coming.

He wasn't coming.

She knew it deep inside. Had known it since last night when he'd no-showed. Known it when he didn't reply to her texts, didn't answer her call. And she knew it now when she looked into the mirror and saw the hurt in her expression. She hadn't felt this kind of ache … ever.

Callie couldn't go back into the ballroom. She pulled her phone out of her purse and texted Mike.

CALLIE: Please let Anne know I'm leaving. Tell her I'm okay, but I have to go.

She hit send and left the building.

*   *   *

Bennett touched his leg with his right hand and lifted his fingers. There was blood, but he couldn't see where it was coming from because the door was crushed in on him. He couldn't breathe. His left side was numb. He turned and looked into the passenger seat. Her head was bleeding, her eyes closed.
Oh god, no.

There were lights, blinding lights coming in the window. The car had hit them on the driver's side. No, a truck; its lights were shining through the windshield. He was lodged between the door and the center console, completely unable to move.

“Ashley. Ashley, talk to me, babe. Can you hear me?”

She didn't respond for what seemed like forever and Bennett felt like he was going to pass out. “Ashley, can you hear me?”

She moaned.
Thank god.

“Bennett,” she whispered, and then began to cry before she'd even opened her eyes.

“Don't cry, Ash. Open your eyes; look at me.”

“What happened?” she asked between quiet sobs. There was pain in her voice and he said a silent prayer that she wasn't damaged internally; she was delirious.

“We've been in an accident. Ashley, open your eyes; I need you to look at me.”

Her head lolled to the side, her eyes fluttering open, tears rolling down her cheeks mixing with the blood from the cut on her forehead. He knew the minute her eyes focused and she realized what was happening. Her eyes went wild.

“Oh god, oh god, Bennett, you…” She began to scramble in her seat, grasping for the seat belt. “You're stuck. Oh god, your leg. What happened?”

“Shhh, it's okay.” His head started to feel hazy. He still couldn't feel his leg at all. “Sit still, Ash. It's okay. Someone will help us.”

“Don't die, Bennett. Please don't die. Oh god.” She cried harder.

Someone knocked on the window. A fireman. Bennett could hear his muffled words, see him yelling outside the car. wasn't sure what the fireman said; his mind was going blank. This time the man pounded on the window, kept pounding, so hard, like he was trying to break it open. A dog began to bark.

Bennett gasped. His eyes flew open. His living room. He was on his couch. Dreaming again. Always reliving that night in his nightmares. It had been a while since he'd had one so vivid and real. Someone pounded on the door and Misha barked again.

He got up and walked to the front door, his hip throbbing. He pulled the door open and his heart sank in his chest. There stood the most painfully beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her eyes shimmering with tears.

“Why didn't you come?” she whispered.

He couldn't respond; he was completely rooted to the ground, his pulse racing.

“Answer me, damn it. Why?”

He shook his head and then whispered, “I don't know. I couldn't.”

“Bullshit.” She reached forward and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards slightly but caught himself.

“Callie…”

“No.” She put out a hand, her lips going into a straight line. “Don't say my name. Don't make excuses. I don't want to hear them. I came here to tell you that you're pathetic.”