Page 12

12

Maya

T here are no decent job prospects for me within a sixty-mile radius. Not that I would actually drive an hour for a minimum wage job. Even if I wanted to, there’s no opportunity that I’m qualified for. The only two potential options are cleaning hotel rooms or working the cash register at a retail store. Both of which have long hours, which would prevent me from picking Finley up from school, few if any benefits, and wouldn’t pay enough for me to buy groceries for the month.

Still, despite my lack of education and experience, I decide to fill out the applications online for a few other positions while Christian is outside playing with Finley.

The one job that caught my interest and had a flexible schedule and benefits was the activities director at a senior center. I bet I could even bring Finley in with me in the afternoons or on weekends. The elderly love having cute little visitors. While they want at least a year of experience, they only require a high school diploma rather than a B.A. which I never earned.

Since I also need a few references, I send a quick text message to two of the moms in the neighborhood and then one to Elle.

Elle’s response comes back first.

“ Of course I’ll give you a glowing recommendation! Give Finley my love . I’ll call you tonight when I get home from work! ”

I’ve just put my phone down on the coffee table and picked the laptop back up to enter Elle’s name and address when the back door opens and closes.

A second later, I hear the hallway bathroom door slam shut.

Christian is chuckling before he steps into the living room wearing nothing but boardshorts. My jaw literally drops. Good lord, his rock-hard abs are delicious and he’s so damn tan despite spending most of the year in an arena on ice. He looks more like a surfer than a hockey player.

Seeing me staring at him, he says, “Finley’s taking a quick potty break.”

“Oh, right,” I agree, wondering if letting them play in the sprinkler and slip and slide today was a good idea or if I was an idiot for not joining them. “Y-you should both grab some water while you’re inside too,” I tell him as I watch the droplets of water trickle down his chest and stomach toward the waistband. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Finley knows where the glasses are in the cabinet. Maybe I could get you a towel…”

Glancing down at his bare chest, Christian says, “Shit. I mean, shoot, I’m dripping all over the floor.”

Putting the laptop aside, I hurry to the hall closet and return with two towels. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he replies as he begins drying off right there in the living room. Nodding to my computer that’s back in my lap, he says, “Whatcha working on?”

“I’m trying, unsuccessfully, to find a job,” I reply.

“Not having any luck?”

“Not really. There are a few positions that I would love to get but probably have no chance of even landing an interview. Which leaves me with few choices since I haven’t done anything my entire life except one semester of college before I dropped out and nearly six years of being pregnant and raising a child. Neither is going to be very impressive to a potential employer.”

“I’m impressed,” Christian says when he takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. “You were really young and had no experience with kids before you had Finley. He turned out great, so I think that’s a pretty big accomplishment.”

“Thank you,” I say, genuinely warmed by his compliment even if I know he’s only saying it to try to get me out of my panties again tonight. Not that he needs to try very hard… “Still, there are tons of women who have done the same thing. Being a mother doesn’t gain you any credit career-wise. If anything, I don’t want any future employers to even know that I’m a mom.”

Christian’s blond brow furrows. “Why not?”

“Because single mothers have to miss a lot of work when their kids are sick or have school events. It makes us look like we’re less dependable. Oh, and god forbid we get pregnant again while working for a company. That would require time off for doctor appointments then maternity leave. If they hire a man instead of a woman, they know they can avoid all of that.”

“That sucks.”

“That it does,” I agree.

“Well, if you need any references or whatever, feel free to put me down.”

“Yeah, right,” I snort. “I bet managers would think I’m full of shit if I put down that the oh-so-famous hockey player Christian Riley sings my praises.”

“Fine. But the offer still stands.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “Between neighbors and Elle, I think I’ll have three.”

Christian nods and then asks, “So, you and Elle are good friends?”

“She’s hard not to love.”

“True,” he replies with a smile that quickly falls. “Not that I loved her. I mean, maybe I thought I did, but she was just different from the puck bunnies.”

“It’s fine if you loved her, Christian,” I assure him.

“I didn’t. I did care for her, though. And I regret how I ended things.”

“If you asked Elle now, she would probably thank you for dumping her,” I remark. “If you hadn’t, she wouldn’t have met Preston, and they wouldn’t be madly in love.”

“I’m glad things worked out for them, not just as a couple, but with Preston moving to Greensboro. I guess it would’ve been hard for Elle to leave her shop.”

“Yeah, it’s for the best. Even though I miss him.”

“Luckily for you, I know where to find him,” he says with a grin. “All it takes is packing up a few boxes…”

“A few boxes!” I exclaim with a shudder. “Do you see all this stuff, all of our furniture, the toys Finley has accumulated thanks to being spoiled by Uncle Preston? It would take no less than half a dozen movers and more than two tractor-trailers to haul all this down to North Carolina.”

“It’s a price I’m willing to pay,” Christian says, his voice sincere just before Finley comes running into the living room and grabs his arm to pull him to his feet.

“I’m ready to go back outside!”

“Hold on a second, buddy,” I tell him. “Did you flush and wash your hands?”

Rolling his eyes, his cheeks redden in embarrassment, like how dare I ask such a thing in front of hot shot athlete Christian Riley before he huffs, “Yes, Mommy.”

“Good. Now, even though you’re playing in water keeping cool, you still need to hydrate and grab a snack before you go back out in the heat.”

“Fine,” he groans as if I’ve asked him to give up his entire Lego collection.

“And make sure you check with Christian before assuming that he wants to play out in the heat all day with you!”

“I’m getting some good training in,” the hockey star replies with a widening grin. “We’re playing slip and slide backyard hockey. It’s almost like skating except you fall down more.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I mutter with a shake of my head. “Just don’t let him break any bones. And let me know if you need helping making a snack.”

“I can handle making a snack, Maya,” Christian says tightly right before Finley runs off to the kitchen. And in his now steely gaze, I know exactly what he’s thinking, what he’ll probably want to talk about tonight—When am I going to tell Finley that he’s his father and not just a famous friend who comes to play with him?

And the answer is, I have no freaking idea.

Once that cat is out of the bag, it’s never going back inside.

The only thing worse than having an absentee father is having to constantly see him on television playing hockey, unable to avoid his fame.

Christian

Later that night, I refuse to let Maya go down on me, waiting until after she comes on my tongue twice before I broach the subject she’s been avoiding.

Lying on my side next to her in nothing but my boxer briefs, I run a slow finger down her chest, right between the cups of her bra she kept on while we fooled around. I didn’t object when she tugged off my shirt and yanked down my shorts, even though she still refuses to get completely naked with me, which is so damn frustrating. That frustration is why I find myself saying to her, “So…I think things are going well with Finley, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, her eyes still hazy with pleasure.

“Do you think we could maybe talk to him, tell him the truth soon?”

Maya blinks at me and that haze completely disappears, making me wish I hadn’t opened my mouth. “It’s too soon.”

“Too soon? Then when? By the end of the summer, at least, right?”

“I don’t know,” she replies softly, her eyes avoiding mine.

Cupping the side of her face, I tilt it toward mine so she has to look at me. “Baby, it’s killing me that he doesn’t know the truth. Do you have any idea how badly I want to hear him call me ‘dad’ or ‘daddy’? I want that more than a championship trophy, Maya.”

“I know, Christian. I can see how hard you’re trying,” she replies while stroking her fingertips over my several days’ worth of scruff. I usually forget to shave or decide to skip it every morning since I’m in such a hurry to come over here.

Turning to place a kiss on her palm, I ask, “How about on his birthday? It’s the first one I’ll get to spend with him. Let me tell him then.”

Maya looks away and swallows so hard that I know exactly what’s coming—a denial.

“It was hard when Preston left. It’s going to be just as tough on him when you go back to Greensboro…”

“I’m going to have to leave either way, though, whether he knows I’m his father or not. What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a sigh as she sits up on her elbows. “I can’t explain it. There’s just this ache in my chest at the thought of telling him and then having you turn around and leave.”

“So, you’re not going to tell him at the end of the summer?”

Biting her bottom lip, she finally says what I’ve known all along. “I haven’t decided yet. He’s going to miss you so much as it is…”

As much as I hate leaving, I need some space. I need to get out of this house, this goddamn bedroom that’s felt like heaven the past few days, before I lash out and say something I regret.

“You’re leaving? I haven’t…it was supposed to be your turn tonight.”

“I forfeit,” I reply as I pull on my athletic shorts and grab my shirt from the floor.

“Christian…”

Once I slip on my shirt, I turn back to face her. Maya’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her pajamas already covering her up. “I know you want to protect him. I already feel that same need to keep him safe from…everything in the world. But you know that I’m sticking around, that just because I may live in another state, that doesn’t mean I’m going to disappear from his life.”

“Finley won’t understand the distance during the hockey season.”

“There’s an easy way to solve that problem, too.”

“I’m not moving to Greensboro to keep leeching off my brother! Him and Elle deserve their privacy, and I can’t afford a place of my own…”

“You and Finley could move in with me. My huge penthouse apartment has two bedrooms.”

Maya shakes her head. “You don’t want that, Christian. Not really. Being a father is a huge responsibility. And we are not even a couple.”

“We could be.”

“We agreed that this was just physical between us, during the summer.”

“Why can’t it be just physical in Greensboro?”

“Living together is not just physical!” she huffs.

“Fine, I want more, Maya,” I blurt out. “I want to be with you. I want you to be mine in every damn way.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not…I’m sorry, Christian, but I can’t.”

While I may not be the sharpest skate on the ice, even I’m able to figure out that Maya’s refusal to tell Finley I’m his father isn’t about whether she thinks I’ll hurt him. Her refusal to let me be a bigger part of his life is all because she’s scared that I’m going to hurt her again.

Maya doesn’t fucking trust me not to screw around on her, even though my nights are spent either here with her or alone in my hotel room looking at photos of my son’s life from the outside.

Since I know there’s nothing I can say to change her opinion, I turn around and leave.

It’s frustrating as hell, but I’m not going to give up. It’ll take time, more than a single summer together, but I’m never giving up on her, on us, again.