“No. It’s bedtime. Come on. Let’s brush your teeth.” I stand, but she stays put.
My stubborn daughter stays glued to the couch.
“How about, you brush your teeth and get in bed and then I’ll read one more.” He looks up to me. “If your mom says that’s okay.”
Two sets of dark blue eyes lock onto me, waiting for an answer. “Okay. One more.”
She gets up and heads toward the bathroom, but then stops and looks back to John. “Brush?”
Some of her words are hard to understand for other people so I decipher it for him in case he missed the plea. “I think she wants you to go with her.”
“Oh.” He unfolds himself from the couch. He looks ridiculous standing at his full height in my small living room. I wonder if Indie will be tall. I never considered it before. I’m average height and so are my parents. My daughter will probably be taller than me if she got even half of his giant genetics.
I pick up the apartment while listening to them in the bathroom. She shows him every single bath toy before he gently encourages her to brush her teeth. He’s good with her. His uneasiness is evident, but she’s fascinated with everything he does and that seems to coax him to talk and interact with her more.
She comes out of the bathroom wiping her mouth, John on her heels.
“Ready for night night?” I ask.
The three of us go into her room. John takes it all in with a grin. “You like purple, huh?”
She nods, grabs his hand and tugs him toward her toy bin, which is purple just like half the other items. Purple sheets, purple blanket, purple letters on the wall that spell out her name. My gaze is stuck on her little chubby hand holding on so tight to his pinky and ring fingers.
“Bed, sweet girl,” I say, before she can coax him into doing something else. Something tells me he’s going to be a push over until he realizes that only causes more problems later.
I pick her up and place her into her crib. We keep a stack of books next to the bed and I grab the one on top. “Penguin?”
“Yeah!”
I kiss her. “Night. I love you.”
Handing the book to John, I say, “One book.”
He grins. “All right, mom.”
I force myself to leave the room, even though listening to him read to our daughter sounds like just about the sexiest thing I can imagine.
At the dining room table, I settle in with my laptop and books. Every literature class has a weekly reading assignment and I’m taking four of them. Gothic literature, women’s literature, Victorian prose, and topics in literary theory. I love all of them.
Reading and dissecting words is everything I hoped it would be, but I may have bitten off more than I can chew. And that’s not even factoring in the hours I attempt to write my own words. I love reading, but it’s writing that I want to do after graduation. The thought of my words being read and loved by others inspires me to keep going.
I could take fewer classes per semester, but that means more semesters and I don’t know how long Indie and I can survive on my teaching assistant salary and savings.
John’s low voice pulls at my attention and I realize I’m still listening in when he finishes the last page and Indie asks for more.
“Your mom said only one tonight, but maybe I could come back another time and read to you again?” He asks.
I can’t make out her response, but I don’t need to hear her to know she said yes. She’s falling hard for him. I really hope he doesn’t break both our hearts.
Faking like I’m deep into my reading, I glance up slowly when John closes her bedroom door.
“Did she beg for more?”
One side of his mouth lifts. “Yeah. Good thing you said only one. I have a feeling I would have easily been roped into reading every single book she owns.”
“Probably more than once.”
He takes a seat at the table and nods toward my books. “How are your classes going?”
“Good. There’s just so much reading. By the time I get her to bed every night I’m so exhausted I have to pry my eyes open to finish.”
Guilt etches into his features and I backtrack. “I’m exaggerating. Classes are great.”
“You’ve done a really great job with her and I’m so thankful. I know I’ve apologized a bunch, but I feel awful. Let me help. I get that you want to make sure I’m going to stick around and not screw up too much, but I’m in this with you now.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You look good too.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Earlier you said I look good. So do you. I really dig the glasses.”
It’s been so long since I’ve dated, but the warmth and desire that stirs inside of me from a simple touch has so much more to do with him than a lack of contact. His touch, his affection, is unlike any other. There’s something reassuring about his impact on me after all these years. It makes me feel less guilty for sleeping with someone I just met. That wasn’t something I’d done before, or since, but we just connected. And, sure, maybe I was feeling a little rebellious that night, too. I was about to be a college student and I’d spent my high school years being the good girl.
Some people live a life of rebellion and break rules without consequences. I was clearly not that person. Still, I wouldn’t take it back or trade Indie for anything.
“Thank you.” I squeeze his hand. And I don’t let go even as I go back to reading.
Chapter Six
John
“What time did you get in last night?” Shaw asks as we work out with the team the next morning.
“Late. After midnight.” I’m going to be dragging ass today. During the season, my day begins at six a.m. and doesn’t end until seven or eight at night. It’s never bothered me before, the hours I spend with the team. I love these guys. They’ve become family.
He smirks. “I guess that means things went well?”
“Yeah, I think so. We held hands for like an hour.” Since I hadn’t brought any of my own schoolwork, I read one of her parenting books while she studied for class and we just hung out silently. It was nice.
My buddy laughs. “How very junior high of you, but I meant between you and the kid.”
“You studied while holding hands?” Cameron asks. He’s lifting next to us and I thought he was minding his own business. Obviously not.
“It was nice,” I say with a shrug. I don’t expect these guys to understand, but it doesn’t matter.
“You have a kid together. I think it’s okay to go to second base,” Cameron says.
“I want to do this right.” Though I have no idea what right is, and these fools clearly aren’t any help. “Like ask her on a date but I can’t exactly do that.”
“Let me get this straight,” Shaw starts. “You want advice on asking out your baby momma?”
They bust up laughing.
“I hate both of you.” Apparently, I’m on my own figuring this out. “Can we keep this between us for now? I need to talk with coach. I don’t want him to hear it from someone else.”
“Yeah, of course,” Cameron says. They both nod their agreement.