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Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Chapter 13

Calla

Age 18:

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Shines,

You know how my oldest brother has been gone for about four months on active duty? Well, my birthday was on Friday (thank you again for my Amazon gift card. I used it to buy fancy highlighters and a three-pack of bras), and by Saturday, none of them had even mentioned it. I was fully prepared to tell them all to vamoose out of my life. Except when I woke up on Saturday, my room was filled with balloons (I’m a really heavy sleeper, okay?) and there was a trail of Kit Kats that led out into the hall and down the steps.

When I got downstairs, there stood my parents and all of my brothers. All of them. There, in head-to-toe camouflage, was my oldest brother. Before I even hugged him, I fell to the floor and cried. He flew all the way here to surprise me for my 18th birthday. Naturally, I accused everyone of getting the date wrong, but it turns out he was supposed to arrive on my birthday, but his flight got delayed, so they all stayed quiet so as not to ruin the surprise.

I hugged him for a solid ten minutes. He had, like, six new tattoos, which I totally want to get one day. He seemed a little sadder than the last time he visited, but overall, it was the best birthday ever.

Sorry for the ramble. I was just way too excited. Anyway, love ya so much. Hope you had a fun time playing video games with your friends all weekend. You probably should visit the outside some, you know?

Dopey and Sneezy,

Lily

***

To be fair, Nathan tried to warn me.

Never in my life had I thought a simple children’s music lesson at my local community center would be so rowdy and boisterous.

Nathan sat in the front of the class in black cut-off shorts and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The tan skin of his arms peeked out from beneath a sprinkling of dark hair, and a waterfall of veins rippled as he flexed his hand around the neck of the guitar he was showing to a group of kids.

He bobbed his head to the music every time he strummed, and he smiled at every kid like they were so special to him they deserved their own exceptional Nathan grin.

In the twenty minutes since I’d arrived, I’d been watching him through my camera lens. I did my best not to be distracted by the way he got lost in this music or the way his dark, unkempt hair sometimes fell into his eyes, causing him to do a little head shake to get it out of the way. I was doing my best, but right now, my best wasn’t good enough.

I’d hoped to slip into the class so I wouldn’t disrupt his lesson, but when he saw me sneaking in, he lifted his head, and his words trailed off. He smiled so brightly at me that my heart picked up an unhealthy beat. Thankfully, not many kids noticed. But oh boy, the moms did.

It was all going fine and dandy until I caught sight of them. A whole lineup of them. At least nine sat in their seats in the back. They were all craning their necks to get a look at the class, and I was in their way. At first, I thought it was precious, all these moms wanting to watch their kids learn, but the longer I observed, the more obvious it became that they had their eyes locked on the way Nathan’s fingers pressed into each string. And every time he spoke to their children in that calm tone of his, I swore they leaned closer.

Not long after, he started moving around the room to work one-on-one with the kids. There was a collective sigh as he gave a fist bump to a tiny boy wearing glasses. And one mom was definitely drooling. Several were wearing wedding rings, but that didn’t stop them from shamelessly ogling Nathan.

It shouldn’t have irritated me. I had no business caring what these ladies drank in during the day. And honestly, how could I blame them? Nathan was gorgeous. And I even caught myself staring on occasion. But watching them watch him made my chest all tight.

Near the end of the class, I inched closer to where Nathan was working with a young girl and shot a quick video. She couldn’t have been more than seven, and her guitar was bright pink. When she got the snippet of melody right, she looked up at Nathan in pure surprise and admiration. He raised both hands to clap and broke out in a smile bigger than I had ever seen him make.

“Yes!” He gave her a high five and ruffled her hair. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

I caught every bit of it without either of them noticing, my heart melting as I did. No doubt there was a mom in the crowd who would pay me good money just to take my entire SD card right there.

Once the lessons were over and my camera had nearly four hundred pictures and videos of mostly Nathan’s hands—forgive me, Lord—the kids filed out, stopping one at a time to give Nathan a handshake. Oh yeah, did I mention that he has a unique handshake for every single kid? Yeah, the range of fist bumps, high fives, and dance moves that he had somehow memorized with every one of them was adorable. No wonder these moms were cuckoo for Nathan puffs. If I had kids, I’d have them enrolled in a class every night of the week.

The last mom and son duo stayed the longest. She was probably in her mid- to late-twenties, with bright blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her mom jeans were trendy, and she wore a white button-up that was half tucked in a way that would have looked frumpy on me but was stylish on her. Beige statement earrings dangled from her ears, and a very large and, judging by the brand, very expensive handbag hung off her wrist. She had the kind of style that I so desperately wished I could pull off. Except when I tried, it looked like I was playing dress-up in my mom’s closet.

This lady looked like the kind of mom who had it all together. She probably made homemade gummies with no red 40, and she’d likely never visited a Walgreens at midnight to buy poster boards because her children had forgotten to tell her they had a project due the next morning. She probably ate salads because she actually liked them and willingly drank kombucha as if it didn’t taste like root water.

When I was a mother, I’d seek her out and follow her on Pinterest, knowing well and good it would only make me feel worse about my mundane household.

Her son darted away to grab his jacket off one of the chairs but tripped over his own feet. He caught himself before he fell, holding his arms out and giggling. He was adorable, really.

Nathan, obviously agreeing with that sentiment, chuckled at the young boy before turning back to the mom. He said something I couldn’t hear, and she lifted a hand to his bicep as she laughed in response.

I did not enjoy seeing that.

When the boy returned, he and Nathan shook hands and did a weird little fish motion before making a pufferfish face and falling into a fit of laughter. The woman eventually let go of Nathan and said an extended goodbye.

Once they were out the door, I casually strolled up. “You were great tonight.”

“Yeah? You had fun? Did you get any good pic—”

“Hey, Nate?” a high-pitched voice full of sugar called from the doorway behind us.

The gorgeous mom was back. She stood on the threshold, holding out a finger and scrunching it toward her in a come here gesture. Nate? Since when did he go by Nate?

Nathan smiled, as he always did, and turned back to me. He muttered, “One sec, Calla,” and gave my forearm an ultra-friendly tap before stalking over to the tiny, perky blonde.

I did not enjoy that either. The man had been in the middle of a conversation. Ever heard of manners, lady? The audacity, really. And Nathan with his hot and deep, rumbly One sec, Calla.

With a flirty smile, the woman handed him a business card, her perfectly manicured nails tucking it into his callused hand. His responding smile was automatic. He smiled at everyone. All the time. The man told me he had no game, said he couldn’t talk to beautiful women. And yet she lit up at his reaction.

I had this terrible urge to tell her she wasn’t special. That Nathan would probably smile while standing in a lineup at the police station. But unlike her, I do have manners. So even though I wanted to run over her white sandals with a golf cart, I backed away and pretended to mess with my camera bag to give them some space.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I couldn’t pick up any distinct words.

Nathan eventually came back, puffing out a breath. “Sorry about that. I was asking you about the pictures. Was everything okay?”

I smiled through my irritation. “Yeah, the lighting was great, and I got a lot of content. I should have everything I need.”

Which meant I wouldn’t have to come back and witness single moms practically fanning themselves like they were at a debutante ball.

“Perfect. I’m really glad you came.” He gave me a smile. It was different from the ones he’d passed out to his students and their parents tonight. It was softer, more genuine. Maybe it was the spirit of pride, or maybe it was wishful thinking—that he’d save the softer smiles for me. Either way, I would take it.

“Yeah, me too. I’m impressed. The kids love you.”

Each and every one of them lit up when he kneeled in front of them. Like he was truly a rockstar.

He laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been working with most of the kids in this group for a while, so they’re used to me. I’d be lying if I didn’t have some favorites.”

“I think you kind of have to, right?” I asked, zipping up my camera bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “Ready to go home?” I asked, as if we were a married couple heading home from church to eat chili and take a two-hour nap.

“Nope.” Nathan reached for the strap on my shoulder. Sparks ignited against the exposed skin along the strap of my tank top as his fingers brushed against it.

I turned around with an accusing “hey” and reached for my bag.

“Might as well get a little more practice in. The stuff here is higher quality than I’ve got at home. Let’s see how you do in a different environment.”

Glancing over at the prettiest white baby grand piano in the corner, I chuckled. Trying again now, when I was exhausted after a long day, didn’t feel all that promising. Especially because I wasn’t one to give up. We’d probably be here for hours, and I still wouldn’t get it right. But when I glanced back up at Nathan’s smirking face—his dimple highlighted in the soft glow of the room, and his hair messy from bouncing from student to student—I couldn’t say no.

And on a completely unrelated note, I was giddy. He’d chosen to spend the evening with me instead of running off with one of the cute single moms.

“All right, Steven Tyler. Let’s do this.”


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