34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
TEAGAN
The doctor leaves the exam room to grab a nurse and supplies before she stitches Sophie’s knee, leaving me alone with her.
The scent of antiseptic and Clorox fills the air, stinging my nose. So far, Sophie has put on a brave face, but I can tell by the quivering of her chin and the fear in her eyes, she’s two seconds away from a meltdown.
“Hey, you okay, kiddo?” I ask, taking her little hand in mine; it’s so soft and small with little dimples at each knuckle.
Her little round face tips, and the trust I see in her eyes grips at my heart. “Is it gonna hurt?” she asks, lip curling like she might cry.
Fuck stitches. If I could take them for her, I would.
I squeeze her hand, trying my best to reassure her with a calm, steady tone. I don’t want to scare her, but I also won’t lie to her, either. “It’s just going to be a tiny pinch, kind of like a bee sting, then the magic numbing medicine will work, and you won’t feel anything.”
“Is that what they did to your hand?” Her blue eyes drop, focusing on my bandaged hand.
“Sure is, except I’m a big boy, so I didn’t take any magic numbing drops.” Slowly, I remove the bandage and hold it out for her to see the dozen sutures in my palm. “A few of them are even starting to dissolve already.”
She stares intently, then asks, “Does it hurt now?”
I shrug. “Not really. It’s a little sore, but just because I think my hand is healing and it’s ready for the stitches to start coming out.”
Her brow furrows, and for a moment, I worry I said the wrong thing.
Should’ve just said no, asshole.
But then she bobs her little head, seemingly accepting this new information in stride. “Can I touch it?” she asks, blinking up at me.
“The stitches? Sure.”
She reaches a tentative hand out and touches the sutures so lightly I barely feel it.
“See? Doesn’t hurt at all.” I nudge her with my knee. “And you wanna know the cool part about stitches?”
“What?” Her eyes brighten slightly, her expression earnest.
“You’re going have the coolest scar after. Then everyone will know how tough you are, and you can tell them about the time you fell off the monkey bars onto a big, jagged rock.”
Her brow furrows. “Do you have scars?”
“Sure do.” I roll up the sleeve of my shirt, revealing a pink line just below my elbow.
“Wow. Did you fall off the monkey bars, too?” Sophie pokes it, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Almost. It was a skateboard in my driveway.” I grimace, leaving out the part where I was doing stupid tricks and goofing off. I’m lucky I didn’t crack my head open.
A knock on the door interrupts us, and all the blood drains from Sophie’s face, leaving her ashen. “Ready?” the doctor asks, pushing into the room with a nurse trailing behind her.
Sophie’s small throat bobs, and her eyes glisten as they meet mine.
“You know what always helps me when I’m scared?” I ask, my stomach clenching into a fist.
“What?” her tiny voice wobbles as she watches the doctor prep her tools.
“Look at me, Soph.” I snap a finger. “Look right here.”
She turns her attention to me, brown curls bouncing.
“Just look at me the entire time, and if you’re scared, squeeze my hand.” She takes my hand and I motion with my other for the nurse and doctor to start. “That’s what my mother used to tell me to do when I was little.”
“Just a small pinch,” the doctor warns.
“I’d just squeeze my mother’s hand.” The doctor moves in with the Lidocaine, and Sophie clenches my hand, her knuckles turning white while I continue, trying to distract her. “And it would help me to not be so scared anymore. I did that with the stitches near my elbow after I fell off my skateboard. Barely felt a thing. You know what else helps?”
Sophie shakes her head, her mouth tight.
“Ice cream,” I say, deadpan. “Lots and lots of ice cream. Do you think after this we need to stop at The Frosty Cow?”
Sophie nods animatedly, and I pinch my lips together to fight a smile. “I bet I can eat more ice cream than you can,” I taunt.
“No way!” Sophie shouts, accepting my words for the challenge they are. “I love ice cream.”
I narrow my eyes like I don’t believe her. “But do you love ice cream as much as I love pizza?”
“Yes. Definitely, yes!”
“Wow.” My eyes round. “You must love it a lot.”
“Chocolate peanut butter is my favorite.”
I shake my head, eyes glistening. “You are a girl after my own heart because nothing, and I mean nothing, beats chocolate peanut butter. And The Frosty Cow has the best chocolate peanut butter ice cream I’ve ever tasted.”
“Can I get it in a sugar cone?”
“Is the sky blue?” I scoff. “Of course you can!”
Sophie beams at the same time, I hear the snip of scissors and the doctor steps back. “All done.”
I glance down to her knee at the same time the nurse places a giant bandage over the now-stitched wound.
“Done?” Sophie blinks, mouth agape.
“Yep. All done.” The doctor smiles, glancing up at me. “Good job distracting her, Dad.”
#
I carry Sophie in my arms out of the urgent care center and onto the sidewalk outside as we head to Lane’s car. Maybe I’m being silly or overprotective, but I had to park a ways from the entrance and don’t want her walking with her bum knee.
I shift her above my hip, taking care to not touch her knee while she prattles on about the prizes she got, and though I should be listening, I can’t seem to focus on anything other than the doctor’s words echoing inside my head.
Good job distracting her, Dad.
My heart clenches at the memory.
She called me Dad. Dad.
Until now, I hadn’t thought about how Sophie and I might appear like a father-daughter duo to the outside world.
If Sophie noticed the doctor’s blunder, she certainly didn’t show it, which is just as well. I’m sure Lane would prefer to be the one to handle any conversations about Sophie’s father, or lack thereof.
But that doesn’t mean I can get the sound of it rolling off the doctor’s tongue out of my mind.
Being mistaken for Sophie’s father should make me uncomfortable. I’m only nineteen, a freshman in college. Six months ago, I was still living with my parents, partying with my friends back in Riverside, and generally acting like a jackass without a care in the world.
I’m not ready to be a father, or at least, I shouldn’t be.
But instead of being freaked out at the prospect, the notion of being there for Sophie as her father turns my insides liquid. Everything inside of me melts at the thought. It’s as if that single word has tipped my world on its axis because, the fact of the matter is, I love Lane. I’m head-over-heels, truly, deeply, and madly in love with her. And I love Sophie, too.
I’m fucking proud to be a part of their lives. I’m not afraid of what a serious relationship with Lane means or where it might lead. I’m not worried about going from zero to three-sixty because I’m already there.
From the moment I laid eyes on Lane Turner, before I realized she was the coach’s daughter and a single mom, I knew.
She’s it for me.
As crazy as it sounds, as quickly as our relationship has progressed, I know deep down that she’s the one. And Sophie feels more like mine with every passing day.
I pause at the edge of the sidewalk, ready to cross the parking lot toward Lane’s car when a voice calls out.
“Nichols?”
I grit my teeth and turn, all thoughts of Sophie and what the doctor said vanish as I curse my dumb luck. What the fuck are the odds of running into Chance Lockhart outside urgent care on a fucking Tuesday?
“Chance?” I angle myself toward him where he stands outside the pharmacy doors, assessing me through narrowed eyes.
His gaze flickers from me to Sophie, then back again as he draws closer. “What are you doing here?”
“Just handling a cut on Sophie’s knee.”
“I got stitches,” Sophie announces proudly, then resumes playing with her prizes.
“We have game film in thirty,” Chance says.
The muscle in my jaw twitches. “Good thing I’m only ten minutes from campus, then.”
He stares at me for a moment, his gaze cold, expression stony. Stepping to my side, his shoulder pressed to mine, he whispers, “Just what the fuck are you doing here, Nichols?”
“I told you—”
“You know what I mean,” he hisses so Sophie can’t hear. “Fucking around with Lane, taking her daughter to the doctor. What are you getting at?”
I meet his eyes, my gaze calculated. “Are you threatened, Lockhart?”
The vein in his forehead bulges, and I see a flicker of something in his expression that tells me I hit my target. “Why don’t you stop worrying about everybody else and focus on yourself, huh?” I clap a hand over his shoulder, mostly because I know it’ll piss him off. “Lane’s a big girl. She can handle herself.”
Before he can say anything else, I step off the sidewalk into the parking lot with Chance’s voice at my back. “You don’t know what you’re doing here, Nichols.”
I wave at him and keep walking, thankful for the girl in my arms. If not for her, I’d be in his face, doing a lot more than giving him lip.
Hell, I’d probably do something I’d come to regret and earn myself a warm spot on the bench come Saturday.
There’s something I fucking hate about that guy.
My phone rings, breaking through my thoughts, and I check the screen to see Lane’s name. Grateful for the reprieve, I press the speaker button and hold it out as we approach her car.
“It’s your mom,” I whisper to Sophie, before I say into the phone, “Sophie’s driving service, can I help you?”
Sophie giggles in my arms.
“Are you still there?” Lane asks, sounding slightly harried and out of breath.
“Lane?”
“Yeah?”
“Breathe,” I remind her.
“Right. Sorry.” Lane pauses, and this time when she speaks, her voice is steadier, stronger. “So, how did it go?”
“It went really well. She’s all sewn up. Took her stitches like a champ.”
“And I’m gonna have a scar!” Sophie yells so Lane can hear.
“See? You hear that? She’s gonna have the coolest of scars.”
Lane lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re amazing.”
My heart flips inside my chest. “Maybe just a little.”
“I’m serious.” Her voice is a throaty rasp, a bedroom voice—the kind that makes me wish she were here and I could have her alone. “Teagan, thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I was glad to help. How’d your presentation go?”
“The first couple of minutes were a little shaky because my mind was on Sophie, but after that . . . I think I nailed it.”
“Thatta girl.” I smile, and my thoughts drift back to Chance.
A glance at the sidewalk confirms he’s gone, but I can’t help but feel like I should mention it to her.
“Where are you headed now?” she asks, breaking through my thoughts.
“Uh . . .” I purse my lips, glancing down at Sophie as I debate telling her now or later that we’re getting ice cream before lunch.
“The Frosty Cow!” Soph screams.
“You little turncoat.” I laugh, mouth open.
“Did she say—”
“Okay, so I might’ve promised her ice cream on the way back to campus as a bribe to be brave, but it worked, so I think I should get a pass.”
“Just don’t eat too much.” Lane laughs, and I’m relieved she’s not pissed about me feeding Sophie dessert before an actual meal.
She’s exactly the kind of loving, laid-back yet firm parent I’d want for children of my own.
Shit.
Did I really just think that?
I just got out of the friend zone, and here I am, already planning my fucking future with this girl.
I shake my head at myself and when I set Sophie on her feet, Chance Lockhart is the furthest thing from my mind.