I hate it.
Because the woman covered head to toe in skin-tight black athletic gear is still golden.
“Of course.” A lie straight through my teeth.
Ren is the only person I’ve brought out here. I never even brought Stella though she knew about it. It’s my special place to shed my walls, give back in a small capacity. Being here, around these lively kids, reminds me of my sister. I guess I show up every week for these kids because I can’t show up for Ophelia. I failed her.
I don’t exactly understand why I’m having an adverse reaction to Hayden stepping into this sphere of my life. I trust her. We are married. But I don’t want her to start asking questions about Ophelia. I would rather take that secret to my grave than confess what I did all those years ago, putting my sister in harm's way, just to get away from my father.
“Who areyou?” Keisha asks, her arms once again crossed as she eyes Hayden up and down. I put the harrowing phantoms in my mind to bed, tucking them in and commanding them to go to sleep. Forever, preferably.
With one hand lazily resting on my forearm, Hayden extends her other out to Keisha. “I’m Hayden Bennett Marshall, Darcy’s campaign manager and—” she pauses, side-eying me, “his wife.”
Keisha’s jaw drops before she shakes her head and adjusts her expression back to one of suspicion and disdain. She cuts her brown eyes to me. “Since when are you married? And why didn’t you tell us?”
“In a few days, we'll have been married for one month,” Hayden says with a smile that looks genuine. She’s a great actress. She’s proven that for sure over the past weeks with her loving, doting, enamored wife bit for the media hounds.
“I wasn’t askingyou,” Keisha bites. She glares at Hayden one last time before walking away. The kids stop fighting over the paintball guns and train their eyes on me and Hayden.
Hayden’s smile doesn’t falter. Instead, she stands on her tiptoes and whispers, “What’s her name?”
I tell her, then Hayden nods and hurries after her.
Doesn’t she understand that Keisha will rip her head off? But then again… I have no doubt that Hayden can match wits with the teen. While Hayden disappears into the group home, I join the kids in picking out gear while they taunt me about the “beautiful woman” I’m with.
Hayden is beautiful.
Once upon a time, I was a man who never had physical-touch desires. Fast-forward nearly one month into marriage, and any contact she initiates feels like giving a drop of water to a man stranded in a desert.
I don’t know who I’ve become, but I don’t like him much.
But it’s still not enough to want to consum—
How in the world did my thoughts end up here?I place the back of my hand onto my cheek, angry at the evidence of my thoughts painting my face.
Thankfully, at that moment, Ren jumps into the group, loudly proclaiming he will win because he is a real-life Japanese ninja, making him an instant hit with the kids. Most are suspicious, demanding he prove it, while a few of the younger kids stare up at him with rounded eyes and jaws agape.
Clapping my hands together, I shout, “All right! Time to pick teams.”
“But I want to do a free-for-all,” complains Martin, the oldest of the kids. “One last moment to shake these kids up before I age out.”
“Then I expect you to lead your team well, captain,” I respond. “You’ll always work better with a team. Remember that when you leave this place.”
Beside me, Ren snorts. “Take your own advice every now and then.”
Martin high-fives Ren and says, “Ninja’s my first pick.” Ren claps him on the back with a grin.
“That’s fine with me.” I point to Ren. “I’m coming for you.”
I assign the next oldest, Cynthia, as captain of the other team, and she immediately picks me. We finish picking teams, then I finally tell the director what I plan to do with the kids today. Needless to say, she isn’t thrilled, but when she sees the excitement and feels the energy radiating from the group, she relents and tosses me the van keys so that I can haul everyone to the arena together.
I crank the van as soon as everyone finishes fussing over who gets the back seat and loads up. Hayden and Keisha come running out of the building waving their hands wildly at us.
I open the door, and they get in. Ren offers her the passenger seat, but she declines.
“Whew. We made it.” Hayden sits next to Keisha, and they start whispering and giggling, verifying my earlier thoughts that Keisha was a teenage version of Hayden.
“Looks like Hayden won her over,” Ren says.
