“I guess the two of us’ll be going.” Hector claps me on the shoulder, jarring me from my trance.
Coach looks at Hector. “I think he’s got it bad,” Coach says. “Kinda reminds me of when I met Jo, my wife. I couldn’t eat for three months while we dated.”
Hector chuckles as the two walk away discussing the matter.
I look at Lara, examining the fine details of her face—the heart-shaped lips, the wide hopeful eyes, the long lashes. I can’t find one thing about her I don’t like. “You’re really beautiful. You know that?”
“Are you saying that because I brought the rescue posse in the nick of time to prevent you from being ass-rape-candy for some guy named Bubba in prison?”
Ew. “Maybe?”
“Thought so.” She smiles brightly. “I know it’s not over, Dean, but it will be soon. It’s going to work out for you. I promise. Call if you need anything.” She starts walking away.
“Wait. Don’t go.”
She stops but doesn’t say anything. She looks bothered all of a sudden—frown, tight lips, a sadness in her eyes.
“Lara, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I know sometimes I’m a little…easily distracted. But I can only think of one woman I would actually gouge out my eyes for.” That came out all wrong. I wanted to say I would never look at another woman if I had her. My thoughts shock me, but they’re true.
Lara’s mouth contorts with disgust. “Are you trying to be romantic right now?”
“Didn’t work, huh?”
“Not even a little. But what’s going on here, Dean? What are you trying to say right now?”
Her tone is serious, and I’m not sure if she’s receptive, confused, or stunned. I decide to put a few of my cards on the table and see where it goes.
“I like you,” I lie. It’s more than that, and I know it.
“I like you, too, Dean. But I’m not sure what that means to you.”
She’s going to make me say it, isn’t she? She wants to know if I’m serious.
“I’ve never felt anything for anyone,” I admit. “So can’t we just start there and see where this goes? Take it slow? I mean, look at what’s happening. I’m not exactly in a position to start a serious relationship. My life, my future, my everything is balanced on a razor-sharp edge.”
I watch the twinkle of hope die in her eyes. “You know what’s funny, Dean? Most people say times like these give them razor-sharp clarity. Not razor-sharp blurriness with a side of ‘let’s keep our options open.’”
Lara turns toward her car, and fuck me, but I really don’t want her to go. This moment might be a baby step for most guys—to actually feel something real for a woman—but for me, this is Everest.
Maybe I need to tell her that, but something about this situation feels off, like Lara is purposefully making it too hard. What girl asks for a serious commitment right out of the friendship gate?
It doesn’t fit her.
I rush over and block her from her car. “Just tell me why you’re pushing me away every chance you get? Because I know you’re not weak or afraid or fragile. But every time I make a tiny mistake, you’re storming off. Why?”
She looks away. “I can’t do this here.”
“Okay. Then where?”
“My place.”
“I can’t. Fia is supposed to be dropped off at my apartment.” The detective didn’t give me an exact time, so I should stick around at home and wait for the call from Child Services. And yes, I hate that I’ll have to see Mike, but it is what it is. I can’t change the situation. Not today. Tomorrow is another story.
“I can’t go to your place,” she says.
“Why? What’s the big deal?” I push.
Lara mutters, “Because I can’t see Fia right now.”
Huh? I feel like I’m falling down a rabbit hole here. Is Lara like Nina? Or Mike? She thinks Fia is toxic to my life?
“Why?”
She refuses to answer.
“Okay. I’ll just put you in touch with all the other people who think I’m crazy for caring about a little girl who needs me.”
“No.” She squeezes her eyes shut like she’s in pain. “I adore Fia.”
“Then?”
Her gaze locks on the patch of asphalt between our feet. “She looks just like my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
“Did.” Lara’s eyes start to overflow with tears as she speaks softly. “I was eighteen when I had her. My family made me give her up.” Lara drags a fist under her eyes. “They said I couldn’t do it on my own, and they wouldn’t help me either. They told me all the reasons she’d be better off without me, with parents who could give her everything she needed.” Lara shrugs. “So I gave her up after a month. I signed away all my rights, and since then I’ve spent every day wishing I’d kept her. I wish…” She inhales sharply and exhales. “That someone, anyone, would have stepped up to help me, to tell me I could figure it all out.”