Page 9 of Let You Love Me

“Lane,” I repeat, feeling it roll over my tongue like velvet. “And your last name?”

“Are you always this nosy with complete strangers, or just the ones you save in the park?”

I chuckle. “Is that a deflection?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, Lane-with-no-last-name, I’m Teagan Nichols.”

“Well, Teagan Nichols,” she says, taking a step back, “thanks again.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and shrug. “Anytime.”

I watch as the pair turn and leave, heading for the playground, while an unexpected jolt of longing settles in the pit of my stomach.

Turning, I head to my car and slide behind the wheel, then grab the T-shirt I left on the passenger seat and tug it on before I start the car and take the road toward the mini-mart a couple blocks down.

Ten minutes later, I park back in the lot with a brand new ball in hand.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I contemplate my next move.

Will she think I’m a fucking creep if I find her on the playground?

What’s meant to be a sweet gesture could very well come off as trying too hard, or worse.

The last thing I want is for her to think I’m some kind of stalker, but the idea of leaving the park without her number doesn’t sit well with me, so consequences be damned. I step out of my car and head toward the grove of trees.

Once I step onto the playground, my gaze scans the faces. Children dart around the swings and slides, climbing the jungle gym like ants on an ant hill. I spot a flash of auburn hair and my stomach turns in knots.

Making my way over to them, my guts tighten with nerves. A moment passes before I clear my throat, and bright blue eyes meet mine.

Her eyes widen in surprise before glancing down at the ball in my hands.

“I thought she could use this.” I hold it out, offering it up as she shakes her head.

“Oh, no. We can’t accept that.”

“A ball!” Sophie yells and reaches for it but I hesitate, unsure of whether I should give it to her when Lane whispers, “Soph, we can’t just accept things from strangers.”

My mouth twists.

A stranger? Great. She totally thinks I’m a fucking creep.

Lane straightens and offers me an unreadable look. “It’s okay. She can live without a ball.”

“But I want the ball,” the little girl cries.

“Please just give it to her,” I say. “It’s the least I can do.”

“The least you can do?” Lane arches a brow. “You did just save her life, remember? I’m the one that should be thanking you.”

“Then thank me by taking it. Seriously.” I motion with the ball. “I have little sisters so I know how disappointed she probably is.”

“There’s really no need—”

“Do you always argue so much when someone does something nice?” I ask, my grin spreading as I squint down at her.

“Please?” Sophie tugs on her arm.