Hoisting a folded chair on each shoulder, I lead the way across the grassy field toward the parking lot.
“My little brother played soccer,” Paisley tells Oliver. “I remember going to his games. You’re way better than he was.”
“Thanks.” He squints one eye and looks up at her. “Are you Uncle Klein’s girlfriend?”
“Paisley is my friend,” I answer.
Oliver has his next question ready. “Have you ever watched him play soccer?”
“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ sound.
“You should. He’sreallygood.”
I grin at Oliver. You’d think we had an agreement the way he’s talking me up.
We reach Eden’s car and I fit the chairs into the trunk. To Paisley, I ask, “Are you up for ice cream?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll let you guys have some family time. Besides, I have work to do.”
Oliver makes a face. “On a Saturday?”
She grins down at him. “I’m afraid so.”
“You should at least eat some ice cream before you work,” I cajole, drawing out the last word.
Her gaze lifts to me. “Shouldn’t the treat come after the hard work is finished?”
“No,” my sister, Oliver, and I say in unison.
Paisley laughs, and Eden waves goodbye. “It was nice meeting you.” She fixes me with a pointed look. “Hope to see you again soon.”
Eden walks around the side of the SUV, Oliver in tow. “See you there, Uncle Klein,” he yells, adding a wave.
I walk Paisley to her car parked nearby. “You should come with us.”
Ahmmsounds from her throat. “For believability? So I can report to my family your nephew’s favorite ice cream flavor?”
We’re stopped at the back of her car. My hand comes out between us, reaching for her, and I realize what I’m doing and drop it. I’m going to have to be careful. With Paisley it’s almost too easy to forget this is all fake. We’re too good at bantering, at teasing, at getting along.
Forcing a smile, I shrug and say, “Because I want you to.”
She worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
I wish I could retract my invite. Why did I say anything at all? Going to Oliver’s soccer game so she can meet him and be able to speak about him is one thing, but getting ice cream with my family, just for the sake ofspending time with them, is another. We’re not together, and let’s be honest, I’m not the guy she’d choose.
Apology spreads through her gaze. “Klein, I?—”
My lips draw into a hard line. “I get it. Don’t worry about it.” I put a step between us, because I need space. I can’t be that close to her right now. It hurts.
She reaches out, but I’m not there to touch, and her arms fall limply to her side. “I don’t think you understand.”
“I understand perfectly.” I keep my voice even. “This”—I gesture between our bodies—“is strictly business. No fraternizing beyond what’s necessary.”
She frowns. “It’s not that.”
Hope, persistent and irritating, sparks in my chest. “What is it then?”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out, and her facial expression shifts into quiet panic.
