“Yeah, sweetie, Chris can help you practice. He has rollerblades in the garage,” Angie added, her tone a little too bright.
Rosalie shook her head. “No. I want daddy to teach me. He’s good at it.”
Kade coughed over the snort that tried to escape. His kid was awesome. “You sure?”
“Yes,” she said, determination in her little voice as she thrust the rollerblades toward him.
He could tell it was costing her something to part with the glitter-coated gift, but he took the skates and set them down on the ground, his heart swelling and breaking at the same time. Whether Rosalie knew it or not, this was her way of showing him that he still meant something important to her, that she was holding a spot for him in her life even if no one else wanted him there.
He pulled her into a hug and gave her a squeeze, smiling even though everything inside him felt off-center and broken at the thought of not seeing her again for another two weeks. “You be good for your mama, okay?”
“I will,” she said, giving him an extra tight squeeze before letting him go and taking Angie’s hand. “I love you, daddy.”
He swallowed hard. “Love you, too, Spark.”
Watching her walk away and then peek over her shoulder for one last wave before climbing into the car was about all he could take. He waited until the car pulled away then he sat down on the sidewalk, laced his fingers behind his head, and let the anguish overtake him.
It was a full fifteen minutes before he had the energy to get up, grab the rollerblades, and head to the car.
But when he rounded the grove of trees by the parking lot, he stopped midstride. Tessa was sitting on his back bumper with her chin in her hands. When she saw him, she lifted her head and her gaze flicked to his face, then to the skates, then back. Sympathy shrouded her features.
She knew.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice croaky from the tears he’d shed.
She stood, clasping her hands in front of her like she was afraid he was going to tell her to fuck off. “Gibson told me where I could find you. I thought maybe we could go to dinner . . .”
“Dinner? Like pick up take out.” That’d been their MO for the last few weeks.
She shook her head and stepped forward, holding her hand out. “No. Dinner. Like a date. In public.”
“Tess, you don’t have to . . .”
She closed the distance between them and took the skates from his hand. “Hush, I still plan on using you for your body later. Don’t worry. I’ll even pay for dinner so you feel really cheap and tawdry.”
He laughed and drew her into his arms, setting his chin atop her head. Somehow she knew exactly what to say to make the load on his shoulders not feel so damn crushing. “Thank you.”
She tilted her face up and pecked him on the lips. “Thank me later. Come on, the line at Dairy Queen’s going to be killer if we don’t get there soon.”
“Ooh, big spender.”
“You know it. I may even spring for a peanut butter sundae.”
He released her from his hold and let her lead him to his car. “Well, now I’m just feeling pressure to put out.”
She peeked back over her shoulder with a saucy smile, but he saw the tenderness lingering there in her eyes and felt it reach down into his bones, setting up shop like it’d never left. He knew then that he hadn’t learned a thing since he was seventeen. This girl was going to break his heart all over again.
And if he didn’t do something soon, all he was going to be able to do was stand by and let her.
TWENTY-SIX
Kade swirled his spoon in his chocolate chip cookie dough shake, contemplating it like it was some exotic foreign food he’d never tasted.
Tessa rolled her eyes. “I told you I was just kidding about coming here. We could’ve gone somewhere else. I know you’re used to haute cuisine, Mr. Vandergriff.”
He lifted his gaze from his dessert with a smirk. “It’s not that, smartass. I’m just not used to indulging like this. I gave up fast food sophomore year after getting oinked at one too many times. It still feels like the enemy, I guess.”
She tilted her head. “I never understood why they called you those names. You weren’t overweight when I met you.”