Page 29 of Hale Yeah, It’s You

On Friday afternoon, my box truck loaded with wood, nails, paint, and more power tools than we could ever possibly need, I pull up to the back of Alayna’s school.

I still haven’t heard from her—or Clay—and it’s getting harder and harder not to take it personally.

Alayna’s read every message I’ve sent but refuses to reply.

I wonder if I’ll run into her today, or if she’ll avoid me like the plague.

Mrs. Betty waves at me from the double-door entrance at the back of the theater.

Her rust-colored skirt catches the wind and blows around her ankles, showing off a pair of white vintage kitten heels.

Say what you will about her style, but the woman is consistent.

I wave back, wondering if she plans to help unload lumber and tools in those heels.

My own outfit is far too casual in comparison, but it’s after school hours, and I know I’ll probably be sweaty and dirty by the end of this unload.

My faded sky blue Hale Hardware hoodie covers a matching T-shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans.

I won’t win any fashion contests, but at least it’s practical—and my sneakers won’t cause me any injuries.

It doesn’t take long to get the door open and pull the built-in ramp out. I’ve brought a flatbed cart and a couple of hand trucks to make things easier. Filling one with a stack of boxes, I push it down the ramp and toward the double doors.

Betty is no longer standing in the doorway.

Instead, I’m staring at the back of a man I’d recognize anywhere.

Blue suit, brown oxfords, and perfectly styled hair—Roman turns to greet me as I approach.

Like Betty, his outfit seems all wrong for today’s activities, but he looks so good I’m not complaining.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hale. Mrs. Betty went to grab the volunteers, but you’re welcome to roll that right on through to the storage room.”

His formal tone throws me off, so I make sure to match it. “Thanks, Dr. Clarke.”

A handful of teenage boys pass me, heading toward the truck. With this many hands, we’ll be unloaded in no time—and I won’t have to worry about Betty hurting herself in her heels. Plenty of capable help. No need for her to lift a thing.

“This is so exciting,” Betty says as I move the boxes to the corner of the storage room. “I peeked into your truck—you’re sure we’re not putting you out, keeping so many tools here at the school?”

“Not at all. We don’t have many equipment rentals these days. Most folks either buy their own tools or hire out the work. Honestly, I could probably sell a lot of these at a discount when we’re finished. Maybe I’ll even donate a few to your woodshop if there’s a need.”

That would make my dad proud. He still talks about how much woodshop meant to him, how it sparked his love of the family business.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” she hums. “Like your mama and your daddy. ”

“And hopefully my niece?” I ask, fishing for anything she’ll give me. I can’t remember the last time I went this long without talking to Alayna—maybe never.

“I see you in Alayna,” she says thoughtfully. “More fire in her, though. That may serve her well in the future.”

“Is she still around?”

Betty’s face scrunches. “No, she wasn’t feeling well. I thought you knew she left early today—Mr. Phillips picked her up before the last bell.”

So she is avoiding me—and Clay’s helping her do it. I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

“All right, dear. I’ll let you get back to it. The students are beyond excited to get started on Monday. Unless you need me, I think I’ll head off for the weekend.”

“No, you go ahead. This shouldn’t take long, and Dr. Clarke and I can handle the students. Thanks, Betty.”

Forty-five minutes. That’s how long it takes to get everything unloaded and organized for Monday.

Roman dismisses the boys, and I thank each one as they head past me and out to the parking lot.

“I’ll lock this door,” Roman says, nodding to the storage room and pulling a keyring from his pocket. “I don’t think the kids would steal anything, but I’ll sleep better knowing it’s secure.”

“Sounds great.” It’s awkward again, and I don’t know how to fix it. Only that I want to fix it—desperately. He’s taken off his suit jacket, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up past his elbows. I watch, transfixed by the flexing of his forearms, as he turns the key in the lock and tests the handle.

When he turns back to me, I swallow the drool pooling in my mouth. It should be criminal for one man to have this much sex appeal.

“I guess I’ll see you Monday?” I ask.

Isn’t that what he said to me last Friday? Heat blooms on my cheeks as I remember our conversation. I’d agreed to meet him Monday morning to exchange numbers—and then my weekend exploded into chaos, and I completely forgot.

My hands fly up to cover my mouth. “Oh my gosh, Roman—I completely forgot to come by on Monday.”

Roman fiddles with the keys in his hand. “If you don’t want to exchange numbers, I get it. We can communicate through email or something less personal if that’s what—”

“Hand me your phone.” I cut him off, not willing to let him think I’ve been avoiding him. He opens his mouth, then closes it and pulls his phone from his back pocket. He unlocks it before handing it over, and our fingers brush during the pass-off. His hands are warm, mine are shaking.

As I type my information into his phone, I apologize. “I had a crazy weekend, and then Sarah spent the week with me. I feel really bad. I’m sorry.” I press the call button, letting my phone buzz in my pocket a few times before I end the call. Now I have his number, too.

Roman eyes me curiously. “Sarah, as in Patchouli Sarah?”

Sarah’s going to love knowing her old nickname stands the test of time. “One and the same.”

“Are you two still thick as thieves?” He leans against the wall, clearly in no rush to leave.

“She moved to Spokane about ten years ago. We have a standing date at Cliff’s Bar once a month when she comes down to check on her parents. I don’t see her nearly as often as I’d like, but she loves the city and she’s doing really well there.”

“I’m glad. I always liked her.”

“Funny, she says the same thing about you.” The words are barely out before I realize I’ve admitted Sarah and I have been talking about him. His dimple flashes, and my cheeks flare with heat.

“Ah, so you told her I’m back in town, then?”

“She’s my best friend, Roman. I tell her everything—nothing is too small to leave out, not even the mailman’s mismatched socks. ”

His laugh is deep and warm and washes over me like a blanket. Goosebumps rise along my arms. I want more of that laugh. I want more excuses to keep talking to him. And as I watch him bite his lip, trying to suppress the next wave of laughter, I find myself wanting him to kiss me again.

“I need to lock up my office and grab a few things—walk with me?” Roman gestures down the hallway, and I nod, not ready for this time to end. We fall into step, the quiet of the school becoming more and more welcoming.

“Have you reconnected with any of your old friends since you’ve been back?” I ask. I honestly have no idea if he’s kept in touch with anyone—or if they even know he’s here.

Roman nods. “A few of the guys from the old soccer team invited me to play weekends in their adult league. We meet every other Sunday and sometimes grab a few drinks after. Not too many familiar faces left around here, though.”

He’s right. Most of our old friends left town for bigger lives. Just like he did.

Only now he’s back—and I can’t help wondering how long he’ll stay this time.

“I’ve seen them playing at Chase Field a few times.

I’m glad you connected with them. You were always a natural.

” I’m surprised the gossip mill hasn’t picked up that detail yet.

Roman, shirtless and sweaty, running across a field?

That’s like small-town catnip. I’d bet money Kate’s seen him play—maybe she’s just smart enough to keep it to herself.

Roman slows as we approach the main office. One glance at the front desk, and I sigh with relief. Kate and Mrs. Brosnan are already gone for the day. No gossip brigade to dodge. Roman follows my gaze and smirks like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“You should join us for practice sometime,” Roman offers.

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “I think my soccer days are behind me. But I’d love to come cheer you on. ”

Roman ducks into his office, and I wait outside, cheeks warming thinking about the last time we were alone in there.

I don’t regret the kiss—but dinner at his house had been a disaster.

Today is different, though. I can’t quite put my finger on why.

Maybe it’s because I finally realize I don’t hold our breakup against him anymore.

“Alright, I’m all set.” Roman shuts the office door behind him, hands full—papers in one, a large lunchbox in the other. He’s slipped back into his suit jacket. “The janitors are already hard at work, but it looks like everyone else has gone home. I’m officially off the clock. Hello, weekend.”

“Big plans tonight?” I ask.

Roman exhales. “Actually, I have a date at Jake’s Diner in about an hour.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. A surprising wave of jealousy rises in my chest, and I tuck some loose hair behind my ears to distract myself. “With Kate?” I guess.

Confusion flickers across Roman’s face. He blinks a few times. “No… with a cheeseburger. Why would you think I was meeting Kate?”

“I don’t know why I assumed that. She seemed very… interested.”

He runs a hand over his jaw, his smile deepening. “That’s flattering, but no. Just a cheeseburger.”

“Jake’s sure does make a good one,” I say as I head for the front doors, eager to escape the embarrassment.

“Would you like to join me?” His voice is husky.

My eyes snap to his mouth. “At Jake’s?”

“Yeah. Unless you know somewhere with a better cheeseburger.”

He’s asking me to dinner. Again. Even after the disaster of our last attempt. My heart does a cartwheel inside my chest and I leap on his offer .

“Technically, the best cheeseburgers in town are found in the food truck outside the post office,” I say. “I can pick you up in an hour and take you there. Let you be the judge.”

Roman’s lips curve up. “Okay. But if Jake’s turns out to be better, you owe me a second date to make up for it.”

“And if the food truck wins?” I ask, enjoying this flirty side of him.

“Then I’ll owe you a celebratory dessert.”

It doesn’t escape me that Roman is making future plans for us. The blood in my veins moves like liquid mercury; I’m on fire from the inside out. And even though it’s scary, the excitement is stronger.

Sarah’s voice echoes in my head. It’s time to start living your life—and stop running from your future.

“You’ve got a deal.”