She just stares at me, her hands pulling desperately at her belt loops. I can’t stand here and look at her so I call for Noah and ask if he’s ready to go outside. He runs up to me, football in hand and races me to the door. I take one last look at her, her head down, teeth pushing a deep dent in her bottom lip, before heading outside.
I teach Noah everything I know. I’m surprised I even remember half of this shit, but it all comes back to me with each question he asks. I realize how lucky Nick is, living the life that should’ve been mine. He’s got my girl and my boy and there isn’t jack shit I can do about it except watch fr
om the sidelines.
“Can you come to my game on Friday?” Noah asks with such hope in his voice. Just looking at him tears my heart into pieces.
“Let’s go sit down,” I say as I set my hand on his shoulder and bring him over to the picnic bench. “You know that I live in Los Angeles, right?” Noah nods. “Well I have to go back to work, I have deadlines and people are depending on me. I was supposed to just be here for the funeral and leave the next day, but then I met you and I really like hanging out with you and Peyton asked me to watch football so I stayed. I tell myself I’m leaving tomorrow and I need to do something first, but then I gotta head back to my cat, ya know, because he misses me.”
“But he hates you.”
“Yeah, buddy he does.” I start to laugh, Noah joins in. When his blue eyes look up at me, I know I need to make this right. “I’m kinda hoping I can talk to your mom and maybe we can talk on the phone or something.”
“She’ll say no. She hates you or something, says I’m not supposed to talk to you. I did today because she won’t yell in front of Katelyn.”
Listening to my son tell me that my girl – his mother – hates me really doesn’t sit well with me.
I need to fix it.
“I’ll talk to your mom okay? Just don’t be hard on her. She lost her friend and sometimes memories are hard to deal with.”
He nods and when he looks at me, a piece of me dies. I don’t want to leave him even if he never knows I’m his dad. I want to be his friend.
We both look up when the sliding glass door opens. Josie steps out with her arms wrapped around her body. Her eyes are red, she’s been crying. I want to ask her why, but I also don’t want to care. I should, but I can’t. She has Nick and I need to accept that.
“I guess it’s time for you to go,” I say to Noah who looks like he’s about to throw the football at his mom.
“Actually,” she says as she steps closer. “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me and Noah tomorrow at our house.”
I look past her, into the living room where Nick is talking animatedly with Katelyn. “No thanks,” I say much to Noah’s chagrin. I hold my hand up for him to stop. “I’m not a fan of Nick’s. I’m not sure I can make it through dinner with him.”
Josie turns and looks into the house and when she turns around she’s shaking her head. “Nick is going away tomorrow for a conference. It will just be me and Noah.”
No Nick. My girl, my son and me? Sign me up.
“What time?”
“How about five-thirty? I close the shop at five and walk home—”
“I’ll pick you up,” I say before really thinking about it. I only have the Ducati and one helmet. Guess I’m shopping for that tomorrow. Josie tries to hide her elation but her face tells me everything I need to know; she’s fantasized about being on the bike with me and I’m about to make her fantasy come true.
“So I guess I’ll see you,” I say to Noah. This makes him smile.
I get up and walk the few steps to Josie. I’m closer than I should be, especially with Nick inside the house. I lean in, my lips grazing her cheek. “You’ll love the ride, I promise,” I whisper into her ear. As much as I want to see her expression, touching her has killed me. I move away as quickly as I can and back into the house.
I fire up my bike, revving the engine so she gets an idea of what she’s in for tomorrow and take off. Her scent lingers on my skin, filling my helmet. I’m not sure how I’ll handle Josie on the back of my bike tomorrow, but it will be my five minutes of paradise.
CHAPTER 18
JOSIE
My palms are sweating.
I’m watching the clock.
The minute hand is moving ungodly slow. Every tick echo’s throughout the shop. I sent Jenna home early because she kept laughing at me and none of this is funny. I would’ve called and told him that I’d walk home but I don’t have his number and it’s not like I can call directory assistance for Liam Page’s freaking number.
They’d laugh at me just like Jenna has all day. Except they would probably cackle because directory service is usually old women who have nothing better to do except give people like me a hard time when you ask for something totally and completely stupid.