A phone buzzes, and we all check ours. A desperate part of me wants it to be Willa, but I know that’s unlikely. Booker gets a flush on his cheeks, so clearly the text is his. But who the hell is putting that kind of blush on Book’s face these days? For as long as I’ve known him, Booker has cared about three things: hockey, the three of us, and making his parents happy. He’s not one to pick up a girl at a party—that’s more Whit’s style,
or mine.
But the days of hooking up in frat house basements are over. I’m somebody’s dad now. I may know fuck-all about parenting, but at least I know that much.
Booker stashes his phone and clears his throat. “Don’t hate me, but...what now?”
“I need to see her again, to meet Rose properly. But Willa’s probably so pissed at me right now, and I can’t blame her. Going back to Drip feels like facing a firing squad, and I don’t even have her number. I’m so fucked.”
“You’re not. It feels like it, I’m sure, but we’ve got you. We’ll figure this out,” Ty tells me, and the certainty in his voice brings my anxiety down a notch.
“I’m on it. Hold up,” Booker says, typing on his phone. He huffs out a quick laugh and I’m about to lose my shit—I’m a goddamn baby daddy. This is not the time for him to be telling jokes to whoever’s on the other end of that line.
“Whit, you making dinner Sunday?”
“Uh, yea, Book. Otherwise we’d starve. You got any requests? I mean, we’re kind of in crisis mode here, but I can multitask and make a grocery list if you really need me to.”
“I’m solving said crisis,” Booker says. “Well, at least stage one, anyway.”
“Who the hell are you texting?”
“Ian.”
We all look at him. “Ian? Ian McBride? From the coffee shop?”
“Yea, we exchanged numbers back when shit went down with Ty and Phoebe. Ian and I were basically their handlers, so it made sense. Anyway, I invited the three of them—Ian, Willa, and Rose—to dinner Sunday. I figured better here than some restaurant. And I figured you’d want backup and so would she. And Whit’s food never fails to put people in a good mood.”
Looking at my guys, I’m grateful. They have my back no matter what. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”
“It’s not a done deal yet. Ian still has to talk to Willa, but he’ll get back to me soon.”
“And, dude, a piece of advice?” Whit speaks up. “Look, I know you have a million questions. Hell, I do, and it’s not my kid. But let Willa set the pace, ok. She’s a parent—a single parent—and she’s gotta be in Mama Bear mode. Maybe don’t start your next conversation with the wordsWhat the fucking hell?I know they’re your favorite words, but maybe hold off a little while, huh?”
I nod because he’s right. I do have a million questions but coming at Willa full-throttle won’t help anything.
“It’s gonna work out, Knox,” Ty says. “I have a good feeling about this.”
I hope he’s right. In the meantime, I need to get my shit together and try like hell to be worthy of Willa and Rose. It feels nearly impossible. But I won’t give up.
Chapter 13
Willa
“I want to say no.I want to punch him in his face and say no and tell him to shove his latent parental instinct up his ass. But that’s not fair to Rose.”
Ian shrugs. “It’s a valid feeling.”
I smile as I pour boiling water into our cups. Rose is fast asleep, and Ian and I are debriefing with tea. It’s his thing, and I’m kind of in love with it. There’s something soothing about tea and conversation. Maybe it’s because I never had anyone to talk to growing up, but these late-night conversations mean everything to me.
“It hurts, Ian,” I say, taking a seat on the couch as he carries our mugs into the living room. “It hurts so much. He was so mean, and now that she’s real and here and perfect, he wants a relationship with her?”
“Still think you two have some stuff to iron out on that front, but yea. Let’s say that’s what’s going on.”
“It’s shitty. It makes me scared that he’s going to hurt her the way he hurt me.”
Ian takes a sip of tea. “I understand why you feel that way.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “You are such a therapist. You can’t turn it off.”
