Page 5 of Saving Stella

It started with a few casual conversations in the break room the first week, with him asking questions about how things worked at Crestholm Prep. The week after that, they started sitting next to each other during lunchtime, though they were still surrounded by other staff members. Then their conversations went outside work, through text messages. He would text her good morning first thing when she woke up, then they would send each other messages or funny memes throughout the day. They’d continue their conversations until late at night, when Stella often fell asleep with her phone in her hand, staring dreamily at the words on her screen.

Perhaps because of her limited dating experience—she had only ever had one serious boyfriend in college and that barely lasted a year— she had misread the signs. But then again, how was it possible to misread words like “I miss you” and “I wish I could cuddle with you right now”?

They had danced around each other for weeks, neither making the first move to take flirty chats to the next level.

So, when Tyler finally asked her to go to this sports bar tonight, she’d been thrilled. She put on her sexiest outfit—a little red sundress with a swishy skirt—and drove over to Bill’s Sports Bar and Grill down at The Spencer Hotel and Casino. Tyler—who was originally from Michigan and had moved to Las Vegas the year before—had chosen the place, because as a Las Vegas native, Stella would never have picked to meet up at any place on The Strip.

She had arrived there, filled with nervous energy, but her excitement burst as soon as Tyler introduced her to the cute blonde by his side. Throughout the evening they had stayed by the bar, watching the game. Stella knew nothing about football, other than that their home team was in black and the opposing team was in red. Kimmy, on the other hand, could name all the players, their positions, and their stats. She cheered during the right times, and booed and cursed the referees when they made bad calls. She even wore an Invader’s jersey, which was cropped to show off her flat, tight belly.

“Stella! Wait!”

Stella was halfway across the parking garage when she heard Tyler’s voice. Her steps faltered, but she managed to stop herself from falling over. Her instinct told her to keep walking, but unfortunately, her genteel upbringing told her that was rude. So, she spun around.

“Oh, hey, Tyler.”

“You leaving already?” Those firm lips she imagined kissing all these weeks pouted. “I thought we were having fun.”

You seemed to be having fun with Kimmy just fine.

She bit her tongue, trying to stop herself from saying what was on her mind. “It’s late and you know … tomorrow’s a school day.”

He flashed her that devastatingly handsome smile that would have normally sent her stomach fluttering. “Aww, you always do the right thing, don’t you, Stella?” He moved closer to her. “Is it that preacher’s daughter in you? Haven’t you always wanted to be a bad girl for once?”

Her cheeks heated. She’d shared some of her childhood with him, but only casually, in a “getting to know you” kind of way. “I really should go. And you should go back to Kimmy, she might be wondering where you are.”

“Are you leaving because of her?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “She just kind of showed up when I told her I was coming here to see this game. I mean, it’s not like I invited her or anything.”

A small spark of hope lit up in her.

Maybe I did get it all wrong.

Perhaps this was a date after all.

“Come on, Stella, don’t be a spoilsport. Come back inside. Or”—he leaned closer, so his face was inches away from hers—“do you want to go somewhere more private?” He circled her wrist with his fingers. “Like my place?”

A deep snarl coming from somewhere inside her chest gave a resounding no.

She let out a surprised squeak and pulled her hand away from his grip.

It had been a while since she’d felt that.

Tyler staggered back. “Stella?”

Had he heard it? She mentally shook her head. No, he couldn’t have. “I’m tired, Tyler. Really. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Turning on her heel, she marched off, ignoring his gaze as she felt him track her steps all the way to her car.

Breathe.

Her surprisingly steady hands managed to press the ignition button to start her car and make her way out of the parking garage. She blocked out the bright lights and sounds of The Strip until she got to the quiet, well-lit highway that would take her back to her suburban home just outside Las Vegas.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, Stella placed a hand over her chest, rubbing it in circles. It was something she’d learned to calm herself—or rather, it down.

When she was a child, Stella had an imaginary friend. Well, it wasn’t quite like an imaginary friend that she would pretend to see or interact with. No, this friend was like a presence inside her, who would react to things around or to her thoughts, and often in the opposite way she would normally act.

Momma had raised her to be a proper, polite lady, after all, so she was careful with what she said or did. She never shouted or screamed, always said “please” and “thank you” and definitely never, ever said anything unpleasant or disagreeable or did anything that could antagonize anyone else.

When the kids at school bullied her because she didn’t always wear the latest fashions or carried the newest gadgets, she would swallow her anger and “turn the other cheek.” Or there was the time a boy in her class pushed her to the ground, she did not fight back, but stayed down, refusing to react.

No, Stella was raised to be a well-mannered, courteous girl.