Page 8

Electric Love – B?RNS

Declan

I ’m sick with nerves as I pace in front of Addie’s door, mustering up the courage to knock. When I knock this becomes a real date and, fuck me, I’m so nervous I could hurl. Didn’t think I could be more nervous than when I asked her, but damn, was I wrong.

The stems of the bouquet are battling against the brute force of my grip and losing.

Just knock.

Before I can lose my nerve, I slam my fist against the door with a loud bang!

I scatter away a few steps, my heartbeat thudding in my throat. Slowly, the door cracks open, and Addie’s head peeks out.

Her eyes are wild—surprised—as she rakes her gaze down my body. I suppress a shiver.

“You’re early,” she hisses, voice low, as she tries to slide out of the small crack between the door and frame.

She’s halfway through when footsteps patter toward the door, and her face drains of color.

“Declan, I can—”

“Mail?!” A small voice screams before Addie jolts to the side. A small girl with large, bouncy curls appears in the doorframe. Her deep blue eyes are wide as she stares up at me. “Do you have my box?” she asks, a slight lisp to her voice.

“He’s not the—”

Addie is cut off with a loud, sharp scream. The small girl squeals, jumping up and down. Her pink tuu-tuu flounces with the action, and I have to cover my laugh with a cough. I look to Addie, whose eyes are panicked as she darts between me and the girl.

“Mommy,” she whispers, loudly, “It’s Prince Eric. Look!”

I don’t miss the way Addie’s shoulders stiffen in response to her daughter’s words. Her eyes harden to steel when they meet mine. She’s waiting for me to say something, watching me with a curious, yet guarded look. Half a dozen emotions swirl around my chest. Surprise. Desire. Worry.

A daughter. She has a child. A fucking adorable one.

“He’s not.”

What?

I’ve missed thirty seconds of a conversation between Addie and her daughter, but the girl levels her mom with a stare so similar to Addie it makes my chest warm. She sighs before turning back to me.

“I’ve been told you look like a prince,” Addie comments, a sour expression on her face, almost like it pains her to admit it.

A laugh tumbles from my chest, and I can’t deter my smug smile. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” She bites her lip as a hand tugs on her shirt. Addie peers down at her daughter, an exacerbated look on her face, though love shines in her eyes. “Why don’t you ask Declan, Nora?”

Nora.

Something bangs in my chest at the sound of her name.

“Did you have a question?” I soften my voice and crouch down, placing the bouquet on the hallway floor.

Her head bobs, dark ringlets bouncing. Tiny fingers play with the edges of her tuu-tuu.

She’s the most adorable small human I’ve ever seen in my life. Her arms are covered in faded temporary tattoos, and her top is covered in stickers and sparkles.

“If you’re a prince,” she asks quietly, “and my mommy is a princess, and you get married, would I be a princess, too?”

I choke on the question, covering it with a cough. Addie watches on with furrowed brows, lip between her teeth.

The pounding in my chest quickens at her nervous, open expression. I doubt she planned on telling me she had a daughter on our first date, and I can guarantee this was not the ideal scenario for her to introduce us—if she decided to do so.

What she doesn’t realize is I couldn’t care less. The knowledge makes me like her more .

I offer Nora my most charming smile—my prince smile. “I thought you were a princess?” I let faux confusion fall over my face. “That’s why I brought these.” I pick up the flowers. “I was told I must bring flowers if I want to take a princess on a date.”

Her round blue eyes grow comically large as she takes the large bouquet of daisies.

“We’re going on a date?!” she screams.

“If your mom says yes…”

I look up at Addie, and her expression is striking. Surprised, but so fucking beautiful my chest aches. She flounders, mouth opening and closing.

We need to talk about a car seat, but Addie can drive if it’s easiest, and we can skip the upscale restaurant for something more family-friendly. Food is food. I don’t care where we eat as long as Addie is there, and Nora.

Nora pulls at her mom’s shirt, and when Addie nods, she begins to jump up and down with a massive smile.

“Princess dresses!”

It seems Nora only has one volume and it’s at full max, but she’s so cute I can only smile as she bursts my eardrum.

Her smile is infectious as I’m welcomed into the small apartment. Toys are scattered along the floor, and stickers are plastered on the beige walls. We move deeper into the apartment, and the love and happiness filling the space is evident. Artwork hangs along the wall, and there are dozens of photos of Addie and Nora mounted in mismatched frames. A pile of vinyl records sits beside a worn-down record player, with dozens of more lining shelves.

My chest pangs at the sight of a home so full of love.

What could it have been like if I had grown up somewhere like this?

“Why don’t you get dressed while I talk to Declan?”

Nora is gone in a flash, and when she’s out of sight, Addie’s shoulders sag.

“My babysitter canceled,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” I unbutton my jacket and lay it over the back of a chair.

“I—Well…” she flounders, surprised by the question. “I can’t…”

I settle into the couch, knees falling open as Addie stares at me, gasping like a fish.

“Makes sense why you carry baby wipes in your purse,” I continue. To say Addie’s eyes bulge from her skull would be an understatement. “And the stickers all over you at work.”

“Y-You’re not…”

“Scared off? Upset? Anti-child?” I offer, and my stomach churns when Addie nods. I swiftly rise and stop an inch from her, tipping her chin up with my thumb. “First, any man who runs when he learns you have a child is not a real man. She is a part of you. Second, I think your daughter might be cooler than you. Third, I don’t run, Adeline. Never been my style.”

She gulps. “You’re a tight end.”

“Maren calls that frolicking,” I reply, which receives a radiant smile that spears my solar plexus. I lean down so our lips are only millimeters apart. “Go get your princess dress on. I want a fashion show.”

Addie’s eyes peer up beneath her lashes, a fight brewing in them at the command, but I spin her around and push her in the direction Nora ran.

“I’ll be waiting.”

She disappears, and while she’s gone, I survey the space.

It’s crowded with oversized, mismatched furniture and dozens of toys. A table sits in the corner of the living room, covered in arts and craft supplies. The kitchen is full of appliances, and the sink is full of dirty dishes. While they get dressed, I quickly wash the plates and stack them in the dishwasher. Might as well make myself useful.

I’m placing the cups from back to front when grief creeps up my throat, threatening to suffocate me. Alan taught me to load the dishwasher this way, and the memory settles heavily on my chest.

The last cup is placed when I hear Addie call out. “We’re ready.”

Nora appears first from the hallway in a poofy pink dress. The top is all sequins and leads into a large tulle skirt. Her steps clack loudly from the small plastic high heels. As she moves closer, the bright blush and blue eyeshadow become clear, and her lips are covered in pink lip gloss.

She’s glowing as she struts down the hallway like it’s a runway, curls bouncing.

I cheer, and Nora blushes before she stops in front of me.

“Can you spin?” Nora does a twirl, giggling as she spins, and I catch her when she stumbles in her fake heels. “You’re beautiful, Nora.”

She smiles bashfully, eyes darting down before she waves at Addie.

“Your turn, Mommy.”

Addie steps out into the hallway, and my throat dries.

Holy fuck.

She looks insane. Hot as fuck, but crazy .

The bright blue dress, covered in colorful sequins and sparkly tulle, is two sizes too small, stopping at her shin. It’s paired with sparkly heels, and as she walks down the hallway, I’m breathless. Her auburn hair falls in soft curls, and her makeup matches Nora’s, only the eyeshadow and blush are more conservative.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I mutter, and Nora gasps.

“You swore!” Nora scurries over to her craft table and returns with a jar stuffed with dollar bills. “You have to pay.”

I glance at Addie, and she shrugs. “It is the rule.”

“There are a lot of bills in there.”

“She’s very dedicated to keeping me in check,” Addie laughs, moving to stand beside me. She’s a hair’s breadth away, but it feels too far. I want her in my arms.

“I’m saving up for a trip to Disney!” Nora yells, “When the jar is full, I’ll have enough to go.”

It’s not hard to miss how Addie’s face falls, or how she plasters on a fake smile for her daughter. “You’ve been doing so well at saving.”

We’re gonna talk about that look later.

“How much?”

Nora holds up two fingers. I pull out my wallet and the lucky two-dollar bill I’ve kept for years before I can think too hard on why I want to give the memento to Nora. I stuff the bill into the jar beside the others and steal a peek at Addie as Nora puts the swear jar back.

“You look incredible,” I whisper.

“I look insane,” Addie responds, pulling at her dress. “Nora picked it out.”

“She has great taste.”

“I don’t trust your opinion. You have horrible taste. I’ve seen your gameday outfits.”

I gasp, clutching my chest. “You hurt me, Adeline.” She shoves my shoulder. “It wouldn’t matter what you wore, you would still leave me breathless.”

Addie blushes, and fuck me, the sight nearly sends me to my knees. I take a step closer, ready to say ‘screw it’ and kiss her, when Nora yells, “Where are we going?”

At the question, Addie’s eyes widen.

“I know just the place.”

We’re going to my favorite restaurant.

I’m taking the girls to fucking Olive Garden.

Nora only stops speaking when she has pasta in her mouth, and even then, she still tries to muddle through her story. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She speaks at a mile a minute, telling me stories about summer camp and princesses, and her sticker book.

Holy shit, does she love her sticker book.

Addie nervously picks at her food as Nora chatters.

“She’s wonderful,” I whisper as Nora explains the plot of Encanto , as if I haven’t seen the movie a dozen times. “Smart as a whip.”

“She reads books,” Addie says proudly, “I hope to convince her to read Percy Jackson with me, but if I push too hard, she might think they’re not cool, so I try to subtly point them out every time at the library.”

“Has it worked?”

“Not at all.” She huffs a laugh. “But she loves Backyard Fairies .”

“What do you like to read?” I ask.

It’s great to learn what Nora likes, but I want to know about Addie.

“Oh…Uh, well…” Her cheeks flush, and she shoves a heaping pile of pasta in her mouth. She points at her lips while she chews and shrugs.

“I can wait.” I lean back and chomp on a breadstick. It must be good if she’s trying to dodge the question.

She has no idea what kind of books we read in book club, and there is no need to be shy. If I haven’t read it, I’ve heard Maren, Sawyer, or Nathalie talk about it. There are very few topics that haven’t been discussed at Book Club.

She finishes her bite, then stares.

“It’s not quite books,” she starts, and understanding immediately dawns on me.

Addie reads fan fiction. I’m not shocked by the concept, especially after Nathalie got drunk and went on a two-hour monologue about the Lord of the Rings fan fiction she read where a human woman from the 21st century was transported to Middle Earth and fell in love with Legolas.

I’m not convinced she didn’t write it.

I wiggle my eyebrows, and she flushes. Her eyes dart to Nora, who is occupied by the coloring page the waitress left for her, and she turns to face me completely.

“It’s not weird.”

“Didn’t say it was.”

“I keep a log of my favorites,” she whispers, patting her purse.

“Send me the list.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want to read them?”

“Oh, hell ya.”

The smile she offers overtakes every part of her face, eyes crinkling with joy. “You’ll have to make an account.”

“Who says I don’t already have one?”

I raise a brow, and she pauses. In a bold move, I take her free hand and intertwine our fingers. Her jaw falls. I wanted to hold her hand when we sat down at the table, but she was a nervous wreck.

Now that she’s settled a bit, I can take my turn at being nervous.

There are things I’ve never been comfortable sharing, and my childhood is one of them. Spending years of your life with foster families and in group homes can weigh heavily on someone, and even with my therapist, Sharon, it’s still a raw topic.

I know why Addie is nervous. How do I tell her that the love she has for her daughter makes me want her more? How do I explain that all I’ve ever wanted was a family to love, and part of me envies her for the love she shares with Nora?

“Are you holding her hand because you like her?” Nora’s voice cuts through the air, and Addie freezes.

“Yes,” I answer honestly.

Nora hums, eyebrows crinkling. “Why do you like my mommy?”

Addie sputters, but I squeeze her palm. “There are so many reasons,” I say, my focus fixed on Nora, “She’s funny and kind. Smart and incredibly beautiful. But most of all, she makes me feel special. Important.”

I finally look at Addie, slightly nervous to see her response, and her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are glassy. “You don’t know me that well,” she whispers.

True, but you can learn whatever you want about someone if you put in the effort. You can’t force a feeling—a zing.

“I’m a quick learner.” I wink.

“You think she’s pretty?” Nora asks, mouth full of pasta.

“Yes.”

“You’re tall,” she says. Are we moving onto a new topic, or is this related? I’m learning that Nora’s brain is a train station with dozens of trains on different tracks, all moving simultaneously.

“I am.”

“My mommy is tall. She says I’m going to be tall, too.”

Nora’s eyebrows crinkle, and Addie’s head volleys back and forth between us.“Do you want to be tall?”

Addie has gone mute, watching our interaction like a hawk. I could use an assist here. Her height seems like dangerous territory.

“Bryson said boys don’t like tall girls,” she admits quietly.

“He what?!” Well, it's the first time Addie has heard this information, if her flaming red cheeks and death-grip on my hand are any indication.

I wiggle my fingers and she loosens her hold, forcing a deep, sharp breath into her lungs.

“I like tall girls,” I say. “My teammate's wife is also tall. But also, fuck Bryson.”

“Swearing!” Nora yells, holding out a palm. I slap a hundred-dollar bill into her palm. That should hold me over for a while.

“You can’t say that about a five-year-old,” Addie chastises beneath her breath, but there is no venom in it.

“You were thinking it. Don’t even lie.”

Her lip twitches, and I steal a glance at Nora, who is focused on the hundred-dollar bill, holding it high in the air. I seize my opportunity, reaching out to drag my thumb along the seam of her lips.

The gasp she releases is a symphony to my ears.

“I may not know everything about you, Addie, but since you came into my orbit, getting out of bed has been easier and life has felt less burdensome. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is. And when the universe speaks, I listen.”

“What’s it saying?”

There’s something here. Chase it .

It’s Alan’s voice.

“It’s saying I’m on the right path.”