Page 111 of Daddy Issues


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I think it’s the fact that I’m staring a little too intently at him getting out of his car that catches his attention.

He cycles through different facial expressions:

Confusion: Why is a shivering weirdo ogling me in front of a rec center?

Concentration: Is the shivering weirdo someone vaguely familiar?

Shock: Wha—

Nick stops abruptly in the parking lot traffic lane, right in front of a slow-moving SUV.

When he moves out of the way, it takes everything in me not to walk toward him. I suddenly feel stalkerish, like I should put my hands up in surrender to demonstrate that I’m not dangerous.

“You’re—”

“I didn’t mean to amb—”

“What are you—”

“I brought Kira some—”

“You’re here.”

Nick isn’t wearing a coat, either. He has his hoodie on. I want to live inside that hoodie. I’m sure of that now. And not just because I’m only wearing a T-shirt.

“Kira messaged me on her tablet,” I explain. “She got her period and needed some—”

“Is she—”

“She’s fine,” I say as he makes for the door. “I found her in the restroom. Gave her some pads and a change of clothes. We talked for a couple minutes and then she went back to parkour. Sorry, I’ll stop cutting you off.”

Nick steps back from the door, a little more at ease.

“Thanks for helping her.”

I’m scanning for all the ways he might look different. Actually, I’m not. I’m genuinely just drinking in his face one more time because I’m tired of trying to sketch it out in my mind and getting memory loss Bruce Wayne.

“You’re back in Columbus?” He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, depriving me of stealing glances at them.

“I got back about a week ago.”

“You could have called.”

“I wanted to call. Once I had my shit together.” I’ve never seen him this cautious. I pause and take a breath in, feeling the anxiety physically manifesting in my body. “Can I say something?”

“Can you please say it quickly?” he asks. “Because my blood pressure is spiking right now. That can be dangerous at my age.” The corner of his mouth raises one millimeter, forming a little smirk, and I feel one millimeter more hopeful.