Page 37 of If Love Had A Manual (Skeptically In Love #2)

Wes

L ena has barely thrown her car into park before I fling open the door and jump out, my heart wedged somewhere in my throat.

Behind me, I hear her scrambling to catch up, her shoes hitting the pavement, keys jangling in her hand.

We’re both a mess, flushed and still tangled up in the wild memory of what just happened back at her apartment.

I shove it down because right now I’ve got one thing on my mind, and that’s Rosie.

My night has swung from hot-and-heavy kissing in Lena’s apartment to full-blown dad panic. God help me, because I’m nowhere near equipped to handle either one.

I reach Kate’s door, not bothering to knock as I barrel inside. Rosie’s muffled sniffles immediately tug at my heart.

“She’s fine. Calm down,” Kate says, adjusting Rosie on her hip. She pauses to take me in, then glances over my shoulder where Lena has just stepped through the doorway. Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

Lena’s cheeks flush bright red, and I give Kate a look that clearly says, Shut the hell up.

She smirks knowingly but shrugs, handing Rosie over. “She was missing her favorite person. They go through a clingy phase like this. I mean, all of my kids did.”

The moment Rosie settles into my arms, her face nestles into my neck, and everything else fades away. She’s warm and damp from crying, her tiny chest hitching with lingering sobs.

“Da…Ah…Dada.” She looks at me and repeats, sure now, “Dada.”

The word is barely there, soft and slurred from exhaustion, but it hits me square in the chest.

Kate’s jaw drops, and Lena’s eyes fly wide as her hand covers her mouth. Even Rosie pauses, surprised she managed to pull it off.

“Oh my god,” Kate blurts. “Did she just—?”

My throat tightens, but I manage a nod, breath caught in my lungs. “Yeah, I think she did.”

Something breaks open inside my chest. Something I didn’t even realize I’d been holding so tightly, and it almost knocks me on my ass.

She babbled plenty of sounds that we thought might be an attempt at words before, but never so sure, never so clear.

“She said her first word,” Lena breathes, her voice trembling and her eyes suspiciously shiny. “She was looking for you, Wes.”

I press a soft kiss to Rosie’s forehead. She called me Dada. Me. It’s both terrifying and amazing. It’s overwhelming and huge, and I’m pretty sure I’m having a minor heart attack.

Lena watches us quietly, her expression warm and entirely too dangerous considering what just happened between us.

Kate wipes her eyes, though she’ll deny any sentimental behavior until her dying day. “Well, crisis averted. Rosie missed her Dada. God, that’s cute.” She grabs Rosie’s diaper bag from the couch and hands it over. “Everything’s in here. Go home. Sleep it off.”

“I appreciate you,” I say gruffly, meaning every word. “Seriously, Kate.”

“I know.” She waves us out the door. “Now go before I start crying again and embarrass us all.”

Rosie’s warm weight rests in my arms as we step out into the night.

Lena unlocks the car without a word, opening the back door.

When I finish placing Rosie in her car seat, Lena leans in to check the straps next to me. Her hair brushes against my jaw, and I swear my lungs forget how to function.

She tucks a curl behind Rosie’s ear. “There you go, Rosie Posie.”

A sleepy yawn is her only reply.

We climb into the front seat before the engine hums to life, but the silence between us feels even louder.

Streetlights flash across Lena’s face, casting her in and out of shadow.

She doesn’t look at me, but I can see how she presses her lips together, as if she’s trying to hold back everything we’re both thinking.

We didn’t just cross a line. We erased it.

The drive is short, broken only by Rosie’s faint snores from the backseat and the static hum of the radio Lena forgot to turn down. When we pull into the driveway, I sit for a second longer than I should.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not really sure for what, but I feel like I need to say it. “About earlier…”

Lena shakes her head, already reaching for the door. “We don’t need to talk about it tonight.”

I see her glance over her shoulder at Rosie, something warm in her expression that makes my chest ache. “Wes?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re her dad. She said so herself. That’s the part that matters.”

I nod once. Swallow. Say nothing.

She offers a small smile and rests her hand on mine for a beat, just enough to steady me before pulling back.

“You’ve got this,” she says quietly, and before I can argue or thank her or do something stupid like kiss her again, she’s already out of the car, and for once, I don’t pretend I’m not relieved she’s still here.