Page 11

CHAPTER 11

EDIN

I watch Mo play in the park on campus. There are a couple of other kids there, all slightly older, and a couple of my frat mates. They have this little grass hockey set. Not field hockey. They’re still very obviously hockey sticks.

Rarely do I take my eyes off my daughter when we’re out of the house. The world is a super untrustworthy place, filled with people like my mother. We’re nowhere near her. In fact, we’re across the fucking country, so the likelihood of seeing her is slim. But she’s always there in the corner of my eyes. Haunting me like a ghost. Waiting for me to let down my guard so she can drag me and Mo back when I’m too weak to be paying attention.

Shaking my head, I shove that thought away, even as I can’t stop myself from looking around. She doesn’t know where I am. Dak made sure of that. There’s no way she’ll find me. At least not until I graduate and am far away from here.

I’m less concerned about Lydia; I know she won’t come looking for us at all. When I sent the divorce papers and custody papers, they came back signed the following week. There was no contesting it. No concern. No requests or demands.

While I’m a little sad for Mo, I’m relieved for both of us. I’m not even mad about it. She was just as miserable as I was. I was giving her an out and she took it.

A shadow falls over me and I look up. Right into the face of Elijah. Immediately, the hairs on my body stand on end. A chill follows when he takes a seat on the bench beside me.

“Hey,” he greets.

I’m pretty sure I made it clear I’m really not into… anything. Not even friends.

“Hi,” I say, trying not to appear wary. “What’s up?”

“Saw you sitting in the park and thought I’d say hi.”

“Ah.”

“Daddy!” I turn when Mo comes racing across the grass toward me. She’s panting, so I pick up her water bottle and pull the straw up so it’s ready when she reaches me. Mo sips her water, her eyes locked on Elijah.

When she pulls the straw from her lips, she asks, “Who are you?”

I try to hide my amusement as I glance at Elijah.

He’s studying her just as thoroughly as my daughter studies him. There’s a playfulness when he answers, “His classmate. Who are you?”

“His daughter,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Why else would I call him Daddy?”

It’s difficult not to laugh at her response. Harder still to keep that laughter from my tone when I scold, “Hey. Be polite.”

“Sorry, Dad. Is he bothering you?”

If I said yes, Mo would kick him in the shins until he left. Knowing that, I assure her he’s not. “No. We’re just talking.”

Mo gives him a skeptical look. “Okay,” she allows, bringing the straw back to her mouth again. She stares at Elijah while she takes several more swallows of water. She hands her bottle back to me and turns to run off again. But I don’t miss the way she looks over her shoulder at Elijah.

“Wow, she’s not very trusting, is she?”

Now I laugh. “No, although I’m a little surprised by her reaction. She’s never behaved that way toward someone.”

“She’s responding to your wariness toward me,” Elijah suggests. “She’s protective.”

“Mmm,” I agree, my eyes flickering to her.

“You really do have a kid.”

I frown, turning my attention back to him. “Why would I lie about that?”

“I’ve heard a lot of weird lies as an excuse not to hang out. Not usually given to me, personally; but living with a house of horny frat guys, the reasons they come back with make us all laugh. I think it’s a running competition to see who can be rejected for the most absurd reason.”

“Cute,” I deadpan. “But she’s not an excuse. She’s the truth.”

“Hypothetically, if you didn’t have a kid? What would your excuse have been then?”

I can tell he’s teasing. He’s got this smile that says as much, plus the way his blue eyes sparkle with mirth.

“I’d again offer you the truth. I’m not gay. Still not interested in guys.”

“What if I could change your mind?”

I sigh, turning my attention back to Mo. “Aren’t you going to tell me sexuality isn’t a choice?”

“Oh, it’s not. But I think you’re using it as a shield and not a legitimate reason.”

“My legitimate reason is my life is already filled right now. I have no time for anyone else.”

“If you stopped going to Confessions?—”

“You going to pay my bills, Elijah?” I cut in.

I can see that he’s about ready to take it as a challenge, so I hold up my hand. “Stop pushing. Okay? I’m telling you I’m not interested in a relationship of any kind. Not romantic. Not sexual. Not friendship.”

“Just fuck buddies at work,” he says.

“Sure. Seems you have me cornered there.”

I said something he doesn’t like. Elijah immediately prickles up as he looks at me. “If you want…” he trails off and I wait for him to finish. I know what he’s going to say, and while I think maybe I should tell him that, yeah, I want someone else going forward, I’m not sure I could get those words out of my mouth any more than he wants me to say them.

Elijah doesn’t finish his sentence. He nods, pressing his lips together. “I hear you. I’ll see you at work.”

When my stomach flips as I watch him walk away, I hold my breath until it stops. The only reason I’m reacting to him at all is because he’s the wrecking ball that breaks through my fucking walls every time he gets me in bed and I’m vulnerable. Everything inside me reacts to him because of it.

Looking away, I stare at my daughter running around. My skin prickles. I need a fucking hug.

Rolling my eyes, I scowl internally. It’s like that training reaction when a dog’s response to hearing the crinkle of a treat package makes them salivate. That’s me. My body now thinks that before Elijah walks away, I’m supposed to have a cuddle first.

Mo comes running back and I hand her the bottle again. “Mario’s going home. Are we going too?” She chugs her water as I answer.

“We’re waiting for Uncle Dak. He’s going to pick us up and we’re heading to his house for a bit.”

Mo’s face lights up. “Can we swim?”

“I don’t see why not, but we’ll have to check when we get there.”

“Yes!” she cheers, punching the air with her hands. “I’m going to say bye. Maybe Mario will bring the game home.” Mo runs off before I can answer.

They run around as my daughter’s shrilling laughter fills the air while Mario chases her. He lets her slip by a few times before grabbing her and tickling her. When she comes running back, her cheeks are flushed. “He said he’d bring it home for us.”

“Did you thank him?”

She turns and shouts, “THANK YOU, MARIO!”

Mario waves dramatically, flashing her a beaming smile in return.

When Mo sits on the bench with me, I fish out a bag of veggie chips, open the bag, and hand them to her. She digs in, her legs swinging, as she looks around. “Where did your friend go?”

Reflexively, I glance in the direction he walked. My heart stutters when I see he hasn’t actually gone far. He’s standing on the sidewalk at the edge of the park with a few people. Either he feels me looking at him or he’s been looking this way periodically because he turns and our eyes meet.

“He had to go,” I answer Mo and turn away.

Thankfully, it isn’t long before Dak arrives. Unfortunately, he parks just beyond where Elijah is still standing. Taking Mo’s hand, I sling the bag I brought over my shoulder and we head to the car. I know Mo sees Elijah—her eyes remain locked on him as we walk by—but she doesn’t say hi.

He’s right. Mo is definitely responding to my discomfort.

I open the back door and Mo climbs in. “Hi, Uncle Dak!” she exclaims as she gets into her seat and buckles. “What took you so long?”

Dak meets my eyes, raising a brow. “It’s ten after three. I’m early.”

Mo looks at me. “Oh.”

Chuckling, I make sure the buckle is fastened before setting the bag in the back with her and climbing into the front. “You could have called if you were ready sooner,” he says.

Elijah meets my eyes through the windshield as we pull away. Fucking shit on a cracker. I swear I can feel his gaze all over. Sighing, I shake my head. “She’s been playing right up until about five minutes ago. It’s fine.”

“Ah,” Dak says and glances in the mirror. “How’s school, MoMo?”

We spend the short car ride with Mo recounting her two-times tables and the paragraph Brent helped her write. Apparently, her teacher has been praising her ever since.

As soon as the front door is open, Mo runs inside, calling to Sparrow. “Uncle Sparrow. Can we swim? Are you home?”

We follow more leisurely. “You’d think she wasn’t just running around for the past two hours. I think the guys went home because they were exhausted.”

Dak laughs. “To have that kind of energy…”

“You’re not kidding.”

We find Sparrow and Mo in the backyard by the pool. She’s already got her bathing suit in her hand as she crouches at the side beside Sparrow. I’m not sure what they’re doing, but I get the suspicious feeling they’re conspiring.

I look at Dak. He’s got this super sappy smile on his face as he always does when he looks at Sparrow. It’s sickening. And sweet.

My entire body shudders as I wrap my arms around myself. I need a hug.

Fucking Elijah.

“Hey,” I say, looking around at the chairs. “I need a cuddle.” I avoid Dak’s eyes, though I can feel him watching me.

“Okay,” he says after a minute. He grabs my wrist and pulls me away from the pool and into the seating area surrounding a fire pit. He gestures for me to climb on as he pulls a blanket from under a bench and turns on a big fan that blows straight at me.

Dak joins me, wrapping the blanket around us. It’s awkward. It’s always awkward at first when we have to situate our big bodies until we’re comfortably cuddling.

Yeah, this is far from the first time I’ve requested a cuddle. I’m just going to leave it at that.

After a few minutes of uneasy maneuvering, we finally settle. I snuggle into him and close my eyes until I hear a splash in the pool. It’s only Sparrow. He holds his hands out and Mo jumps in a leap of trust.

“You okay?” Dak asks once her head is above water. Mo’s a good swimmer, but that fear of her drowning is never far when she’s in the water.

“Yep.”

“Are you sure? Do you need?—”

I smile and shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m not feeling that way, Dak. Not at all. I’m… good. Promise.”

His shoulders relax and he exhales. “So, what’s up?”

“What makes you think something’s up?”

“Because I’ve known you most of my life and I can see it in your face. You usually don’t have an issue looking me in the eye when you ask for a cuddle.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck. Sighing, I decide I’m just going to admit the truth. “There’s this guy at Confessions and…” How do I even explain this? “Have you watched my videos?”

Dak laughs. “No, Edin. I love you a whole lot, but there are certainly lines in the sand I’m not into crossing.”

I grin again. “I’m only asking because I think it’d be easier to explain. So I kind of tune everything out when I’m in a shoot, you know? Like… get lost in my mind because it’s easier to perform that way. Does that make sense?”

“I think there’s a sister studio that’s doing straight and lesbian porn in the same way that DIK does it,” he says.

I shake my head. “I have a bunch of different neuroses to explain why I’m not willing to do that.”

“Okay. Continue.”

“Anyway, it just makes it easier when I can control the situation. When I can check out almost entirely and… float through the moment.”

“That would have been useful,” Dak mutters.

Laughing, I continue, “That’s how I’ve been doing this. But there’s this guy and he… won’t let me. He forces me to be present and… it’s kind of fucking with me.”

“Because you like him?”

I shake my head, shrugging. “I don’t know him. Actually, I don’t think it has anything to do with him specifically. I think my reaction to him is a learned one; I associate the crash with him because he’s the one who’s caused it so many times.”

“What do you mean, crash?”

Sighing, I try to put it into words. “I feel vulnerable with him. He breaks open all the things I shove away because of it, and it leaves me feeling… like my skin doesn’t fit right. You know that movie where aliens wear human skins, but they never truly fit right? Like, you can actually see the human skin wrinkled and bunched in some areas. That’s what it feels like. My skin doesn’t fit correctly, and it takes me days to put it back on. I feel unbalanced and just… like I might shatter.”

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?”

I sigh. “No. Not yet.”

“I think you should.”

“I have an appointment on Tuesday, I will.”

Dak nods. His arms tighten around me. “I’m not sure what you need.”

“That’s the thing. This is what I need. Once he breaks me, I literally have a fucking meltdown after, and he holds me like a damn lover until I pick myself up. But it freaks me out even more and… I probably need longer. Especially the last time. I ran far before I was done, uh… healing, I guess. And I’ve been unsettled since.”

He sighs. “Why didn’t you come over?”

“I can’t always come over when I need a hug.”

Dak snorts. “Yes, you can.”

I grumble.

I can hear his grin when he asks, “Want to have a sleepover tonight? We’ll cuddle on the floor in front of the television and let Sparrow wrap around us all.”

My eyes drift close already. “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.” His arms flex around me again. “It’s always okay, Edin.”

The only time I ever allow myself to even think about what it might be like to fall in love with someone is moments like this. Not because I’m in love with my best friend—I’m not. I love him so much, yes, but it… I don’t think what I feel for Dak is what it means to be in love with someone romantically.

But this comfort. This support, sacrifice, and answering of the uneasy feelings inside me. To feel good and safe and completely trusting in someone else’s embrace. In their presence. Not only that, but their presence brings my soul peace and warmth.

That’s what I think about.

But then I remember where relationships have gotten me in the past and shove all that away. Never again. I’ve lived through misery once and I won’t ever put myself in a position where something good has a chance to turn sour. I won’t put myself or my daughter in that position ever again.