Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
mia
We pull up outside Lily’s school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. I reach for my door handle, but Preston's already out, jogging to my side, and opening the door for me.
He unbuttons his coat while a blur of dark hair and a backpack charges out the gate.
“Here she comes,” Preston announces.
But Lily doesn’t go to him. She veers at the last second, straight past her father, and launches herself into my arms.
“Oh!” I catch her, slightly off-balance. “Hi there. Are you sure you’ve got the right person?”
Lily looks up at me, grinning. “I missed you.”
My chest tightens. I clear my throat, smoothing a hand down her hair. “Missed you too, Little Boss. Sorry I missed drop off.”
She grabs my hand and drags me toward the car, leaving Preston in our dust. He stands there watching, bemused.
I shoot him a wink over my shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. Your socks don’t sparkle.”
I reach for the front passenger door, but Lily tugs my hand toward the back.
“What am I, old news?” Preston says, feigning offense as he slides behind the wheel.
I snort. “Brutal, isn’t she?”
Lily giggles, already climbing into her booster. “You're the driver, Dad. And I didn’t see her this morning. Also, Mia carries better snacks.”
She snuggles close once I’m buckled in beside her. Mid-crunch on a fish-shaped cracker, she glances up.
“How long are you staying with us?”
Something yanks in my chest. “Three months,” I say gently.
Her smile dips. “That’s not long.”
I bump her knee with mine. “Long enough to eat too much ice cream, paint our nails a neon disaster, and teach your dad how to dance.”
Lily snickers. “Dad doesn’t dance.”
“Exactly. That’s our mission.”
* * *
We eat dinner at the kitchen island. Lily asks Preston to cut her broccoli into 'unicorn bites' and me to blow on her carrots so they're 'not lava’.
At one point, I drop my fork onto my plate, and sauce splashes onto my chest.
“Oh, bloody—”
Preston hands me a napkin, his fingers grazing mine.
“You’ve got… tomato. Right there,” he says, pointing vaguely at my boobs.
“Helpful. Very surgical,” I mutter, blotting at the stain. Under the table, my bare foot brushes his. And he doesn't move away.
We exchange a glance. The air between us crackles.
After dinner, the bedtime routine is smooth. Preston brushes Lily’s teeth again after she claims she’s done it, and I hunt down her favorite pajamas, the ones with shooting stars. She makes me braid her hair while her dad adjusts the nightlight.
Then he turns to me, his voice soft. “I’ll take it from here. I promised her three stories tonight.”
I squint at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me? Do I smell?”
“No.” He steps closer, fingers brushing a strand of hair near my temple. “But you do have sauce in your hair.”
I groan. Of course I do.
He leans in closer. “Go shower. I’ll meet you after. Ten, fifteen minutes max. I’ll choose the shortest stories.”
“And then?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Tonight, you leave your door unlocked. When I step inside, class is in session.”