Page 27

I should have seen this coming.

Kenzie and Olivia were always going to like each other. Kenzie charms everyone she meets. That’s just who she is.

But Olivia isn’t just laughing at her jokes.

She’s gravitating toward her.

Like they’ve known each other forever, and she’s already decided Kenzie belongs.

And I don’t know what the hell to do with that.

I lean back in my chair, watching them, trying to process what’s happening.

Olivia isn’t shy. She’ll talk to anyone. But she isn’t easy. She doesn’t just trust people. And yet, she’s already sharing her ice cream with Kenzie. Letting her steal bites. Smirking up at her like she’s already adopted her into her tiny, six-year-old circle of trust.

And maybe I should be freaking out. Maybe I should be pulling back.

Because this is a collision I didn’t prepare for.

And yet—

I can’t look away.

I watch as Olivia steals one of Kenzie’s cookie pieces off her ice cream, and Kenzie gasps dramatically.

"You little thief!" she accuses.

Olivia just cackles, unbothered.

Kenzie glares at me. "Are you seeing this?"

I smirk, crossing my arms.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. My daughter is an angel."

Kenzie snorts.

"Yeah. Sure. An angel with sticky fingers."

Olivia grins up at her, unrepentant.

And something in my chest tightens. Because fuck. This feels too easy, too right. And that’s what makes it so damn terrifying. I should be thinking about the risks.

About how I can’t just bring someone into Olivia’s life without knowing where this is going. About how Kenzie could leave. How she could walk, no run, away. How she could be one more thing Olivia loses.

But right now?

Watching them?

I don’t feel a single doubt. And that should scare the shit out of me. But it doesn’t. Not even a little.

Olivia swings Kenzie’s hand as we step out of the ice cream shop, her tiny feet practically bouncing with every step.

"That was the best ice cream ever," she announces.

Kenzie grins down at her. "Yeah? Think it had something to do with the company?"

Olivia nods seriously, like this is some official declaration. "Obviously."

Kenzie laughs, ruffling Olivia’s hair.

And I just watch them.

Because I can’t stop.

Because I don’t want to.

But then Olivia’s grip on Kenzie loosens, and she turns toward me, her little face stretching into a yawn.

And then reality sinks in.

Because this is where Kenzie walks away. This is where I take Olivia home. Where we go back to our normal life.

Except…

Normal doesn’t feel normal anymore. Not after this. Not after watching Kenzie and Olivia together. Not after seeing how seamlessly she fit into my world. Into Olivia’s world.

Maybe I should say something.

Maybe I should make some offhanded, casual comment to keep this from feeling like a real goodbye.

But my brain is blank.

I don’t exactly know what the hell to do.

"I should head out," Kenzie says, shifting slightly.

Her voice is light, but there’s something underneath it.

Something hesitant.

Like she feels it too.

Like she doesn’t want this to end either.

And I almost—almost—ask her to stay.

To come with us.

To keep this moment going.

But then Olivia yawns again, rubbing her eyes. And I know that’s not an option. Not yet. Not today.

So instead, I just nod.

"Yeah. I should get this one home."

Kenzie’s lips curve into a small smile.

But it doesn’t reach her eyes. And for some reason, that gets me. That tiny flicker of… something. I know what it means. She’s feeling it too.

This pull. This shift. This thing that’s happening between us.

"Bye, Olivia," Kenzie says softly.

Olivia blinks up at her.

Then—

Without warning—

She throws her arms around Kenzie’s waist.

A quick hug. A tiny squeeze. And then she pulls back, completely unfazed.

"Bye, Kenzie!" she chirps before grabbing my hand.

Like nothing just happened. Like she didn’t just unknowingly melt me. And from the way Kenzie sucks in a breath, I know she feels it too.

We stare at each other for a long second. Neither of us saying what we’re thinking. Neither of us moving. Neither of us ready to walk away.

But eventually, she does. She steps back, eyes flicking to mine one last time.

"See you around, Coach."

And then she turns. Walks away. Leaving me standing there, holding Olivia’s hand. Watching her go.

And with startling clarity, I realize—

I don’t want to be the one left behind.

***

Olivia is asleep before we even pull into the driveway. Her tiny frame snuggled into the car seat, her little fingers still sticky from melted ice cream.

And I just sit there. Car in park. Engine off. Not moving. Just… thinking. Because what the hell was that?

I press a hand to my forehead, exhaling hard.

Kenzie fits into my world like she belongs here.

Like she was always meant to be there. And she sure as hell wasn’t supposed to look at me like she felt it too.

But she did.

"Daddy?"

Olivia’s voice is soft, still heavy with sleep. I twist in my seat, my chest already softening as I watch her little eyes blink open.

"We home?"

"Yeah, baby," I murmur, reaching over to brush her face with the back of my hand. "We’re home."

She hums, her tiny face pressing into the side of her car seat.

But then, just as I start to move—

"Kenzie’s nice."

My whole body stills.

Because she says it so casually.

Like it’s just an observation.

Like it’s not about to detonate something inside me.

I swallow, shifting slightly in my seat.

"Yeah?"

She nods. Sleepy. Sure.

"She’s funny. And pretty. And she let me have some of her ice cream."

A small smile tugs at my lips, even as my chest tightens.

Because this? This is why I don’t do this. This is why I don’t bring women into Olivia’s life. Because it’s not just me who gets attached.

"You like her?" I ask, my voice careful.

Olivia nods. No hesitation.

"Yeah."

Then she yawns, stretching her arms over her head.

"Do you like her?"

Fuck.

I grip the steering wheel, my jaw clenching.

Because what am I supposed to say to that?

"Daddy?"

I force myself to relax, turning back to face her.

"Yeah, Liv?"

She tilts her head.

"Will I see her again?"

I blink.

Because that?

That’s the question I wasn’t ready for.

And the fact that she’s even asking it—

That she’s already thinking about it—

That she’s already hoping for it—

It solidifies something in my chest.

Something I can’t ignore anymore. Something I don’t want to ignore anymore. So I take a breath.

And I give her the only answer I can.

"I hope so, baby."

Olivia barely stirs when I lift her from her car seat. Her little arms wrap instinctively around my neck, her face nuzzling into my shoulder.

And just like that, I’m reminded, that this is what matters most.

Not Kenzie. Not my feelings. Not whatever the hell is happening inside my head right now.

Just Olivia. My world.

By the time I get her upstairs and tucked into bed, she’s already half-asleep again.

I kneel beside her, brushing a stray curl from her cheek.

"Night, baby," I murmur.

She hums, barely awake.

But then, in that sleepy, soft little voice—

"Night, Daddy. Night, Kenzie."

I freeze.

My chest tightens.

Because she’s dreaming about her.

She met Kenzie once.

One time.

And she’s already in her head.

Already wrapped up in Olivia’s world.

Already finding a space she wasn’t supposed to fill.

And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a really, really bad thing.

I press a long, slow kiss to Olivia’s forehead.

Then I stand, moving toward the door.

And as I flip off the light, my brain betrays me.

Because it’s not Olivia I’m thinking about.

Not this time.

***

I should be asleep.

Olivia is down for the night.

The house is quiet.

There’s no reason for me to still be awake.

And yet—

I’m staring at my damn ceiling.

Thinking about her.

Again.

I exhale roughly, shoving a hand through my hair.

This isn’t me.

I don’t let my mind get caught in what-ifs.

But Kenzie changed something.

Shifted something.

And I don’t know how to shift it back.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand.

I freeze.

Because for one stupid, reckless second, I think it’s her.

But when I grab it—

It’s not.

It’s Lauren.

A text. Short. To the point:

I stare at the screen.

Because of course.

Of course, she would text me now. Of course, she would sense the moment things are starting to feel good again.

She always does.

I tap out a response.

Three dots appear.

Then:

My jaw locks.

Because I know what this is. I know exactly what’s happening.

She saw something. Heard something.

And now, she’s pulling the strings again.

Because she can.

Because she always does.

I toss my phone onto my nightstand, my pulse pounding.

Because this?

This isn’t about me anymore.

This is about Olivia.

And I’ll be damned if I let Lauren rip something else away from me.

Not this time.

Not when I finally have something I actually want.