I squeeze my eyes tightly, praying that the tears disappear. I don’t want to cry. I refuse to cry.
“I know a few people who can hack the account and retrieve the pictures for you.”
I open my left eye and glance at him. “That’s illegal.”
I could try to hack them too, but I refuse to do anything that would jeopardize my freedom and my child’s future.
Instead of arguing, he asks, “Where do you want to go?”
I look at the time and sigh. “I don’t know. I have some errands to run. My to-do list started with maiming my brother and ended with picking up Matilda, who is at Mom’s.”
“Is she still living in Silver Lake?”
“Yeah. She’s trying to convince me to move there. I might do it when I graduate, and only if I find a job I can do remotely that pays well.”
“What are you studying?”
“Programming and computer science. I have a degree in graphic design already. I want to create educational video games for children. That’s going to be my side gig, though. I have to do something that will bring in enough money to support my family.”
“That’s a cool goal. I bet you can start a company. These days, parents are looking for the ultimate gadget that’s going to help their children thrive.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if that’ll happen. It’s going to take me at least a few more years before I graduate.”
“What if I offer you a job—”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t need anyone to solve my life.”
I have the feeling he appeared to save me, but I don’t need saving. I could use a friend. Though, I doubt he’d be interested in hanging with a single mom who only has time for her daughter and work.
“How about some babysitting so you can take a long bath with a glass of wine?”
I eye him suspiciously. “How do you know about it? Did Persy air our conversation without my permission?”
“Nope. Persy would never do that. She wouldn’t break the confidence of a listener or ruin her show.”
“Then how do you know?”
After a long silence, he finally speaks, “I was at her house during the call.”
“Why?”
“I want to help you.”
“You always want to help others. I’m not a charity case.”
“I don’t think you’re one. It’s just…”
“You always do this, try to save humanity. Why?”
“I don’t know why I did it before. Now…Teddy thinks this is my penance after Callie died.”
“Is it?”
“From one widower to another, she’s not right, but she’s not wrong. The days before her death…we were fighting a lot.”
He takes a long mouthful of air and releases a shaky breath. His gaze focuses on the road, but his mind is somewhere else. Probably remembering the day of the accident.
I pat his left arm. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“We had a big fight before the accident. I don’t know if it’s penance, but helping others gives me a purpose. I feel less lonely”—he presses his lips together so tightly I can almost hear his teeth grind—“I feel less guilty.”
My heart shrinks as I hear the sadness in his voice. This guy was the life of the party. He loved to help people. He did it because he liked to see others happy, not because he felt empty. I hurt for this man, and I miss the boy who would do anything for the people around him.
“Can I take you to lunch?”
“Okay, but tomorrow I’m not going to that brunch. You’ll have to find an excuse.”
I shouldn’t agree to have lunch with him. He feels familiar and comfortable. I don’t want to get used to him. He’s going to disappear the same way he did twelve years ago. I don’t need the aggravation.
Chapter Thirteen
Zach
pThree days wasn’t enough to come up with a good plan.
I decided to wing it. Fuck, that sounds so amateur. I stopped winging things after Callie died. These days, I do everything based on predictability.
When I drove toward Aiden’s house, I thought we could catch up, and his sister would come up in conversation. I never expected to see Autumn.
I wasn’t ready for grown-up—gorgeous, sexy, and sassy—Autumn.
What happened to Wick’s little sister?
Don’t get me wrong, she’s always been pretty, but she was a kid. Now…my heart stuttered when I laid eyes on her, and my dick stirred when I caught her in midair before she fell to the ground.
The cute, nerdy teen with pink glasses who liked to annoy her big brother is gone. I’d like to say that I’m not attracted to this version of Autumn. In another life, I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.
Well, I plan to ask for her number but not because I’m going to invite her to dinner and then a nightcap. I just want to help her.
I try not to think that she’s fucking hot. Do I find her weird hairdo cute? Probably. Her brunette hair parts down the middle and pulls back into a couple of braids. It’s kind of adorable. She wears a T-shirt that reads I’m not your average mama. Her loose jeans leave a lot to the imagination, and I liked that. It’s fresh and different from the typical skinny jeans and tight shirt.
I want to unravel her inch by inch.
Thinking about her outfit isn’t helping me either.
To say that she left me off-balance and breathless is an understatement. I can’t seem to find my equilibrium or my sanity.
I’m so fucking off-balance that I told her I knew about Matilda and the phone calls. I even drove her to Nyx’s house because I wanted to spend more time with her. If she let me, I’d lend her a hand or offer my services to babysit her daughter. She didn’t seem to appreciate my offer, though.
The unexpected yet best part of her is that she understands me like no one has understood me since Callie died. She gets how I feel and how much I loathe when people tell me to move on.
Do I want to take her to brunch tomorrow? Yes. But only because I want to spend a lot more time with her. At least she agreed to grab a bite with me.
It’s lunchtime, and instead of choosing some upscale restaurant, I drive us to Café Fusion. There’s a branch close to Aiden’s house. I park in the back, and for the second time, she opens the car door before I’m able to do it for her. It’s for the best. This isn’t a date, and I shouldn’t get any ideas about being more than just friends.
We walk around to the front of the building, and when I open the door, Autumn grins. “Matilda loves this place.”
“She sounds old enough to be drinking espresso. I bet her favorite is the double latte with three shots and a pump of dark chocolate syrup,” I joke.
“A shot of espresso will give her enough energy to run a marathon. I might never let her touch any type of caffeine,” she says, almost scared.
Because I like to know more about the customers, I ask, “What does she love from this place?”
“Frosty-fruity-shakes,” she says.
“Those aren’t on our menu.”
“Sure they are. They call them fruit coolers on the menu. I should ask to speak to the manager or send a letter to the owner asking to fix it immediately,” she jokes.