11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
LANE
Despite Chance’s exit, when I return to the table, it’s awkward as hell. I have no doubt Teagan’s wondering what Chance wanted, but I’m not about to tell him, so we spend the next fifteen minutes trying to pick up where we left off and failing.
I sit back in the booth, not yet wanting to leave but having no idea how to move past Chance’s intrusion when Teagan clears his throat. “Did you know that Sophie can name every single one of these dinosaurs in this book from heart?”
“I did, actually.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, relieved at the diversion. “She’s mildly obsessed with dinosaurs. We’ve watched every possible age-appropriate show on them millions of times and have tons of books. You want a direct line to her heart; dinosaurs are the quickest path.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He returns his gaze to Sophie, a twinkle in his eyes. “You know, when I was little I had an iguana named Bruce Willis? He always reminded me of a little dinosaur.”
“Who’s Bruce Willis?” Sophie wrinkles her nose, and he laughs.
“Just an actor. My father was mildly obsessed with the Die Hard films,” he explains.
“Oh.” Sophie turns to me, eyes wide. “Can I get an iguana?”
“Um . . .”
“Whoops. Didn’t think that one through. Sorry.” Teagan winces and I can’t help but laugh.
“Do you have any pictures of him?” Sophie asks.
“I’m sure I do back home. I can probably have my mom send me a few.”
“Cool.” Sophie says over a yawn, then leans into my side, exhaustion evident in the dark half-moons beneath her eyes.
I check the time on my phone and see we’ve been here well over an hour. “It’s getting late. I should probably get Sophie home,” I say, reaching into my purse for my wallet. I’m pleased to see that while I was talking to Chance, Teagan stayed true to his word and had the waitress bring separate checks.
Once we pay, I slide out of the booth and scoop her and Betty into my arms while Teagan takes her book. The sky is clear and the air crisp with the promise of fall, but September in Cumberland is still warm.
Perfect porch-sitting weather, I think. And soon, I’ll have one of my own where I can spend all my nights.
When we reach my car, I hit the key fob, and Teagan opens the door to the back seat where I gently sit Sophie inside.
“I had a lot of fun. Thank you for this,” I say, unable to fight my smile.
Teagan turns back to me and slides his hands in his pockets. “Any time, bud.” He grins, offering me a playful punch to the arm, and I laugh.
When was the last time I felt this carefree?
“Thanks for tonight. You’re . . .” I shake my head, at a loss for words.
“Sexy? Charming? Irresistible?”
I roll my eyes, and I’m rewarded with a peek of his dimples. For a minute I forgot what flirting feels like.
“I was gonna say easy to be around, but whatever makes you happy.”
He scrunches his nose. “Not exactly sexy, but I’ll take it.”
“It’s a compliment. Trust me. You’re surprising, Teagan Nichols, in the best of ways.” He bites his lip, drawing my gaze and making it hard to focus. “And, I’m, uh, sorry about Chance.”
I tear my gaze from his mouth to see him staring at me. “Yeah,” he says softly. “He’s kind of a”—he steps forward to whisper in my ear so Sophie can’t hear—“dick.”
Heat washes over me, flushing my skin, before his words register and I take a step back, surprised. I’m so used to everyone worshipping Chance that the notion someone might not like him has never crossed my mind.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“I'm tired. Can we go?” Sophie’s soft voice fills my ear, and her eyes droop sleepily.
“Sure.” I lean down and buckle her in before I brush my thumb over the side of her face, whispering, “Just one more minute.”
I straighten and close the door, leaving it cracked for some air.
When I turn back to Teagan, he scratches the back of his head and chuckles under his breath.
“What?” I ask, realizing I’m dragging this goodbye out. I should be gone already, headed home to put Sophie to bed. She’s half asleep as it is.
“Nothing. It’s just . . .” His lips quirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl friend.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to end a night out like this. I know exactly how I want it to end, but it’s not a date, so I’m at a loss here. . .”
“You do?” I swallow. I imagine he’d kiss me if I let him, if Sophie weren’t here.
The thought sends a flurry of butterflies floating through my stomach.
He nods, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “I do.”
He takes a step closer before softly cursing and glancing in Sophie’s direction. I follow his gaze only to find she’s fallen asleep.
Teagan advances once more and I shuffle back, heart hammering in my chest.
Another step, and my back hits the side of the car as he leans into me, placing his arms on either side of my head, pinning me in place.
The soft rumble of his voice finds my ear. “If this were a date, I would definitely be kissing you right now.”
I suck in a breath as he leans back far enough for me to meet his eyes, but my gaze homes in on his mouth instead.
Desire claws in my chest, a shocking sensation after four years of lying dormant.
I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. How soft his lips are. How his curls would feel between my fingers and whether he tastes as good as he smells.
What the hell am I doing?
I shift my eyes to his, only to find him searching for a green light I know I can’t give. The small aqua flecks leave me stoned as I struggle to find my voice. “Friends definitely don’t kiss,” I say.
He exhales, tilting his head to the side, regret evident in those jewel-flecked orbs. “No, they don’t, do they?”
I inhale, filling my lungs for the first time in what feels like minutes. Any moment, I expect him to retreat, but instead, he drops his arms around me, wrapping me in his warm embrace and smothering me in his citrus-cinnamon scent.
“I guess we’ll have to settle with this, then,” he murmurs into my hair.
I’m frozen in place. It takes five heartbeats just for me to sigh and sink into his arms before I’m engulfed in the heat of him.
His chest presses firmly against my own as strong arms hold me steady. Everything about him is larger than life, and this hug only proves it. He’s everywhere. I’m surrounded by man, tiny in his arms, and I decide very quickly it’s not a bad place to be.
If just a hug from him makes my head spin, I can’t even imagine what a kiss would do. I’d be damn near catatonic.
Which is precisely why I need to take a step away.
I start to move and he releases me with a groan, his eyes hooded beneath a fringe of thick lashes.
Apparently, I’m not the only one affected by something as innocent as a hug.
He runs a hand down his face, his voice low and husky as he says, “Fuck. You give good hugs.”
I chuckle though there’s nothing funny about the way my blood simmers in my veins; it’s simply the only sound I’m capable of making.
He clears his throat and shoves his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, looking sheepish as his eyes return to mine. “You know, I’m glad Sophie came along. She’s a really sweet kid. Hanging with her made me miss my sisters. Be sure to tell her thanks for the paleontology lesson.” He smiles.
Oh, my heart.
Any more and it’ll be a puddle inside my chest.
“Well, she certainly seemed to enjoy herself, too. I think she’s mostly impressed with your pizza eating skills.” Then, because I can’t help myself, I add, “You’re great with kids, you know.”
“Of course I am. I’m the ultimate big brother.” He winks. “And you’re a great sister.”
His words slap.
It takes me a moment to register them as my stomach hollows out, and all the blood drains from my face. “Sister?” I say, slightly numb.
“Yeah . . .?” he says with less conviction than before.
I want to cover my ears with my hands, unhear his words, and if I can’t do that, I’d settle for sinking into the asphalt.
He thinks she’s my little sister. Not my child.
I quickly rewind through our previous conversations, trying to find the point in which I might have misled him or given him the wrong impression, but I find none.
Clearly, he misjudged the relationship merely based on age.
He assumes I’m a carefree, unattached college student just like him. And the only reason the fact that I’m a young, single mom didn’t turn him off is because he didn’t know.
He. Didn’t. Know.
And once he does . . .
“I’d better go.” Turning for the driver’s side door, I swing it open.
“Wait!” He lunges forward, grabbing the door with his hands before I have a chance to slide inside. “What did I say? Are you not . . .?” He frowns, trying to meet my eyes while I do everything I can to evade them.
Any evidence of the smile I wore minutes ago has vanished, replaced with soul-crushing reality.
I hate that he misunderstood. And I absolutely hate how I thought for even a second that he might be interested in me—me, the single twenty-one-year-old mom who got knocked up at sixteen—when all along he had no idea.
This entire interaction and misconception reaffirm everything I already know to be true. That no one is going to want me with all my baggage. No one our age will ever want to be bogged down by a woman with a child. It’s too much. We’re too young. Guys my age want to party, sow their oats and have fun. They want to go to classes and plan their weekends without worrying about bedtimes and lunches, potty training, preschool, and cleaning up toys.
My mistake was forgetting.
But it won’t happen again.
“Lane, talk to me. Did I do something? What did I—”
“She’s not my sister,” I blurt.
Meeting his gaze, I watch as he struggles to comprehend my words, and I take pity on him. “Teagan, Sophie is my daughter. I’m sorry if you misunderstood, but she’s not my father’s. She’s mine.”
Shock colors his expression and I hate it. I want to wash it away.
“But . . .” His eyes cloud, and I can practically see him counting back the years, trying to discern how it’s possible.
“I was almost seventeen when I got pregnant.” I force something resembling a smile, but it’s brittle and weak and my chin wobbles.
I hate that, too.
“Bet you’re glad we’re just friends, huh?”