20. Chapter 20 #2
Ella frowns, her little brow creasing. “So you can’t come to football?”
Jamie crouches beside her, his voice gentle. “Not today, but I really, really want to see you play again soon.”
“That’s okay,” she says after a moment. “You can come next time and help me, and you can come to ballet too.”
Jamie’s mouth curves into a soft smile. “Deal.” He stands, glancing toward me, nervously. “Do you guys have plans later?”
I tilt my head. “Later?”
“Yeah.” He wipes his hands on a towel, the smallest hint of a grin tugging at his mouth. “If you’re free this afternoon, I walked past this funfair by the riverfront. Thought maybe we could go. They have rides, cotton candy, terrible music—the works.”
Ella gasps, clasping her sticky hands together. “Can we, Mommy? Please?”
Her excitement is contagious, bubbling through the room, and when I meet Jamie’s gaze again, it’s impossible not to smile.
“Yes, of course we can.”
Jamie’s grin widens, relief taking over his demeanor. “Then it’s a date,” he says quietly.
My pulse quickens at the word “date”. It definitely feels different from when Reese said it.
“Okay,” I say, trying and failing to keep my voice steady. “A date.”
“Mommy, can we watch cartoons?” Ella asks, mercifully breaking the tension.
“Sure, baby,” I say, grateful for the distraction. “Why don't you go pick something out while I have my coffee? I'll be right there.”
She slides off her stool, her face sticky with syrup, and pads into the living room. The moment she's out of earshot, Jamie and I turn to each other, both speaking at once.
“About last night—”
“I hope it's okay that—”
We stop, laugh awkwardly, and he gestures for me to go first.
“I was just going to say thank you,” I tell him, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “For taking care of Ella this morning, and letting me sleep in.”
“Of course,” he says immediately. “She was up early, and I was already awake, so—” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “She showed me where everything was. The kid's a natural teacher.”
“She gets that from you,” I say without thinking.
His eyes widen slightly. “Me?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you noticed? You were great at teaching Ella, and you’re the only person who could make that math problem make sense to me the other night,” I clarify, remembering how patient he'd been. “You have a knack for breaking things down and making them understandable.”
His lips purse, and his brows furrow in surprise. “I, uh, thank you. That means a lot.”
“It’s the truth.”
I stare down at my mug as we fall into a somewhat comfortable silence. If we hadn’t slept together, it might be a little easier to navigate.
“Tiff,” Jamie begins, leaning over the island. “About last night—” he whispers.
I take in a sharp breath. I knew this was coming. I knew we needed to talk about this, but then why do I feel so surprised by it?
The front door opens behind us, the sound of keys hitting the entry table making us all turn.
“Uncle Z!” Ella shrieks, practically sprinting over to him. When I see him, I freeze.
Zach's standing in the doorway in the same clothes from yesterday—jeans and his St. Michael's polo—his hair disheveled, but that's not what stops me cold.
It's his face.
He's smiling. Not the tight, controlled expression he pastes on for sponsors and reporters. It’s a real, genuine, megawatt smile that transforms his entire face and makes him look like the cousin I remember from before everything fell apart.
“Hey, princess!” He scoops Ella up, spinning her around even as his eyes find mine over her head. There's a challenge there, daring me to say something. “Did you have a good morning?”
“Jamie made pancakes!” she announces. “With chocolate chips! And we're going to the funfair tonight!”
“That sounds awesome.” He sets her down, ruffling her hair. “You know what else sounds awesome? Cartoons. Think you can show me which one we’re watching today?”
Ella nods eagerly. “It’s Sir Peepers the Talking Parrot.”
“You mean the parrot Princess Blanca accidentally froze in her bathtub?” She nods. “He’s got his own show now? Well, this is something I’ve got to see. Will you start it up, and I’ll be there in a minute?”
She giggles, already making her way back to the couch. “Okay!”
Zach watches her go, then glances back at me and Jamie. There’s a flicker of curiosity in his expression, but he doesn’t say anything. He just saunters into the kitchen as though finding me here with my baby daddy is a regular occurrence.
“Where have you been?” I ask, stepping closer to him, opening my arms out for a hug. Zach never stays out.
He’s so hell-bent on looking good for his draft prospects that he’s usually in bed before I am.
“Just hung out with an old friend.”
Old friend.
When I wrap my arms around him, I smell it. Honey’s perfume. The only old friend he’d be so happy to see.
“We lost track of time catching up,” he says as we pull apart, and I raise a brow. Really? Is he seriously going to pretend we both don’t know what he was up to.
“For sixteen hours?” I ask, crossing my arms, and studying Zach.
“Yeah, you know how it is.”
“How was Honey?” Jamie asks, still happy to piss off Zach when he can. That smile Zach’s been sporting lessens just a little as he narrows his eyes at Jamie.
“Nicks. Surprised to see you here this morning.” His eyes track down his body. “In my clothes, no less.”
Jamie lets out a low laugh. “Yeah, sorry. Had an incident, and my clothes got a little wet.”
“It’s cool,” Zach says, nodding in a way that feels like he’s convincing himself. “They look a little big on you, but I guess we’re not all built the same.”
“I’ll have them back for you soon.”
“No problem.” Zach casually strolls to the couch as he asks, “How were the salsa lessons, Tiff? Did you work Reese’s hips?”
“Yes—” I cringe. “No—. We had fun, but the night was cut a little short because Ella got sick.”
“Oh, well, isn’t that convenient?” He throws us an amused smile, and I so badly want to slap my cousin upside the head, but he’s too far away. Zach strokes Ella’s hair and kisses her forehead. “How you feeling, Ella-Bear?”
“Good,” she sings. “Did you just see what Peepers did?” She points at the TV from the couch, forcing Zach’s attention to it.
Jamie clears his throat, and leans in. “I should probably—”
“Stay,” Zach says, grinning from across the room. His tone is lighter than I've heard in months. “You're basically living here anyway at this point.” He glances at me, one eyebrow raised. “Right, T?”
Heat floods my face, and I divert my gaze to Ella, pretending I didn’t hear him say that.
“Don’t worry, Zach. I won’t invade your house. I’m moving into my apartment on Friday. Just need to get this interview out of the way, and I’ll finally be a fully functioning member of society.”
I’m happy for Jamie because this is something he clearly wants, but the thought of him not coming back here makes me sad. I want a repeat of last night. Every single night if I’m being honest.
“What time do you need to be at your interview?” I ask.
“Eleven.” He glances at his phone. “Which gives me about an hour and a half.”
“We can drive you,” I offer, very aware of Zach watching this exchange with amusement. “Drop you off, go to Ella's game, and pick you up after?”
“Yes,” he says, and I watch his whole face transform. “I'd love that.”
Zach glances between the two of us. “Sounds like everyone's having a good day.” He heads toward the stairs. “Ella-Bear, I’m going to shower, and then I’ll join you, okay?”
“Okay!”
Zach turns his attention back to Jamie, calling over his shoulder, “Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone, Nicks.”
“No promises,” Jamie calls after him, and I catch the barest hint of a grin on Zach's face before he disappears upstairs.
The shift is subtle but unmistakable. Zach didn't threaten him. Didn't glare or posture or make thinly veiled promises of violence. Just… accepted him being here.
In our kitchen. With me. With Ella.
Am I theirs?
He’s finally starting to relax around Jamie, and I can only assume it’s because he’s seen Honey again. She’s been avoiding him for months, so maybe he finally got her to talk to him.
“That went better than expected,” Jamie murmurs, moving around the island and close enough to me that our pinkies touch.
“Yeah.” I keep my attention focused on our hands as his fingers subtly claim mine. “Turns out we both had a good night,” I say quiet enough that Ella can’t hear.
His eyes meet mine, warm and full of promise. “Best night of my life, actually.”
“Jamie, you're being mushy again!” Ella calls from the couch. “Mommy says mushy boys are silly!”
“I never said that,” I protest, but I'm laughing.
Jamie grins, straightening. “Well, if your mommy says I'm silly, I probably am.”
“The silliest,” I agree, and when he fully locks our hands together, I accept it.
For now, this is enough. This messy, complicated, beautiful thing we're building.
This feels like home.
This feels like ours.