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“We’ve been through this before. It’s not time yet.” I look at the car dashboard. “Look, I have to go. Ay’s game starts in an hour, and I can’t be late. I don’t want to get caught in traffic.”

“Sure, go.” Lyssa steps back and crosses her arms.

“Don’t be like that. We just made up.”

“Like what? Like I’m good enough for you to plow me on every surface possible, but not good enough for you to take to your friend’s wedding?”

“You know it’s not that. I care about you. I want us to be on firm ground before we go public.”

She shakes her head. “You mean before Ayla knows about me.”

“Yes, before we meet each other’s kids.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t bring my son into this. Robbie knows I date you.”

This is getting out of hand, and I really need to go. “It’s different with girls.”

“It’s not. Not really. You tell her you’re dating me, and we move on from there.”

The heat creeps up the back of my neck. Why is she bringing this up now? “Lyssa, what is this? We talked about this. You said you were okay with waiting.”

“I was until I got to thinking…what the fuck are we waiting for? It’s been three months, and we’re not getting any closer. You’re okay with fucking. You didn’t want to wait for that.”

Now that pisses me off. “What are you accusing me of? I didn’t pressure you. If I remember well, you were just as eager.”

“Of course I was. I’m a normal woman. I’m okay with just sex, but there comes a point where we get past doing just that, where things progress, unless we’re just screwing. You swore up and down that we’re more than that.”

“We are. We spend quality time and talk about life, make plans?—”

“From nine to three. This is like your part-time job.”

“What are you talking about? We went to dinner a couple nights ago… Look, I don’t have time for this right now. I need to go?—”

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to Ayla’s game because a kid’s baseball game trumps anything else in life.”

God, I hate this. She doesn’t get it. “I’m the coach, and she’s the starting pitcher today.”

“It’s not even a championship, just a regular fucking game. You’re acting like she’s playing for the Yankees. Then again, anything to avoid talking about this. Mr. Unavailable will find any excuse to avoid conversation. He’ll hide behind that little girl to keep stringing me along.”

“What? When did I string you along? We are working toward something.”

She laughs. “Working toward what? We fight more than we fuck. You give me money for the bills but don’t want to put in the time, so it doesn’t mean anything. I’m done with this. Go to your daughter’s game and beat off at night. I’m tired of not being option one or two because Ayla is both.”

That does it.

“Oh yeah, we’re done. Just because you had a change of heart about what we have doesn’t mean you can talk about my daughter that way. Since I seem to be wasting your time, let me free it up so you can find someone else who can give you what you want.”

Her mouth drops open.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

Is she loca? “You said we were done.”

“What the fuck? That’s your cue to fight for me, to course correct.”

“It doesn’t work like that with me. You need to choose your words better, because once they’re out, you can’t take them back. Now I know how you really feel, and I won’t change the fact that my daughter will always be number one. You can’t accept it, so we’re done here.”

She takes three steps back, the shock reflected on her face.