The kids sing their songs and shake their eggs, and, miraculously, Willa begins to relax against me just as Tess makes her way back to the group. She’s eyeing me up, testing me almost. It’s hard not to laugh. Sure, I’m not in a relationship with Willa, but Tess doesn’t know that. And I’m happy to play my role.
My hands sit loosely on her hips, but I grip her just a bit tighter and prop my chin on her shoulder. This angle is intimate, and it lets me drop a kiss on her cheek. She sucks in a breath, and my dick jolts.
Sure, I’m playing up our non-existent connection to sound off a message to Tess the Crazy Cougar, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying every second of it. So much time has gone by—too much—since Willa has been in my arms. I know it won’t last long, I know it’s only for show, and I know it’s not real, at least, not for her. But Jesus take the goddamn wheel. It’s so easy to be this close to her, to inhale her scent, to wrap her soft, small body in mine. To kiss her like I have the right to.
She elbows me lightly, and I take it down a notch, aware that my public display of affection has veered slightly into Not Safe for Storytime territory. Soon, the kids are all singing a goodbye song and putting their shaky eggs back in the basket. Cole takes Rose’s. She pouts at first, but Cole says, “say bye-bye egg” and she complies. Holy hell. This kid’s a Pied Piper.
We say our goodbyes, and I wrestle with the car seat while Willa returns last week’s books and checks out five new ones. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tess moving in to get in line behind Willa, but a glare from me does the trick and she thinks better of it and turns her attention to a display of books about dump trucks.
I pick up the diaper bag and the carrier and meet Willa at the door. We walk in silence to the lot until she stops next to a ten-year-old, two-toned hatchback. I actually have to consciously stop the wordsthis is what you drive?from coming out of my mouth. Yea, it’s my first thought, but, luckily, my second thought is to keep quiet. She’s not driving this car because she loves it. She’s driving it because it’s what she can afford. And if my dumb ass had had any clue she was pregnant, I’d have been making child support payments. Fuck that, I’d have put a goddamn ring on it, and we’d be living together, and she’d be driving a safe, sturdy car, like one of the many mom-mobiles that fill the parking lot.
I’m stuck in my own head, too busy thinking about the merits of various SUVs to notice Willa is full-on bitching me out. Rose is content in the backseat—I can see her through the rear windshield playing with her feet. Her mother is not content.
“What is going on, Knox? What were you trying to prove?”
“Look, I’m sorry.”
She raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing my apology.
“No, I’m serious. It’s no hardship to touch and kiss you, and I’m not going to pretend I didn’t like it, but I’m sorry I had to put you in that position. I know you’re uncomfortable with me. You’ve made it clear that our relationship is not physical, and I totally respect that, but—”
“Then what the hell was all that?”
“I went to take a piss, right?” She nods, and doesn’t even correct my language, so I know she’s annoyed with me. “I came out of the restroom and Tess the cougar made a pass at me.”
“She what?”
“Cornered me against the wall with the water fountain. Traced my tattoos and said I was just what she was looking for. It creeped me the hell out, obviously. I panicked. I lied and said we were together, so when I made my way back to the circle, I had to make things convincing.”
She eyes me warily. “We’re not together. You’re free to date Tess. Or have sex with her. Or take phone calls from random girls named Aubrey. Whatever.Granted, story time is not really the place to hook up, but the point is you’re free to do what you want.”
Tilting my head up to the sky, I take a deep breath and count to ten. “Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not free to do what I want. Because what I want is to be with you. But all that aside, I have less than zero interest in some desperate housewife.”
My words unnerve her, I can tell, but I spoke the truth. She might not be ready to hear it, but I can’t lie.
She sighs. “Fine. But don’t pull that crap again, Knox. We’re co-parents. That’s all.”
It’s been a long day and I’m clearly out of patience, so my brain doesn’t have the energy to censor what I say next. “Why? Why was that crap? Why do we have to stay safely within our roles of co-parents? When you let your guard down, you melted into me. I heard you sigh, and I’ve never forgotten that sound—it’s the sound you make when you surrender to my touch. Tell me. Tell me right now, Willa, why can’t we try?”
“You know why,” she says, turning to get into the car.
Putting my hand on her arm, I stop her. “Clearly, I don’t. I’m an asshole and an idiot. I said goodbye when I should have fought for us. I was dicking around with a girl when you were cleaning my damn house. Not a good look. I get that. But what did I do to make you distrust me so much?”
She faces me, her expression somber, and her hand still on the door handle. “You rejected us, Knox.I told you I was pregnant, and you told me it was my problem. That’s what you did. That’s what I’m having so much trouble getting over.”
Her words paralyze me. They make no sense. I never said that. I wouldn’t have. And yet, Willa wouldn’t lie. I stand here, stupefied, as she climbs into her car, turns the ignition, and pulls out of the lot.
I want to follow her home. To demand answers. To have it out right here and now. But I also don’t want to cause a scene or upset Rose or make things worse between Willa and me. So I head home to my boys. They won’t have answers, but they’ll help me make a plan.
Chapter 18
Knox
I key intothe house and slump down on one of the stools at the bar. Whit’s cooking, and Ty’s studying at the table. I should be starving, but my mind is too muddled to eat.
“Dude, you good?” Whit asks, and I shake my head.
They stop what they’re doing and gather around the counter. Distractedly, I realize they’re waiting for an explanation, but I don’t even know where to start.
