“Polar bears and elephants?”
I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t want to be an asshole, but my patience is running thin. “Should you be taking notes?”
Leslie shakes her head. “I’ll email you a revised design plan,” she tells me, and she might be grinding her molars to dust.
We walk out together, and she slams her car door shut with way more force than is necessary. Piper straps Ellie into her car seatas I approach the SUV, and I wait until I’m pulling out of the driveway to speak.
“That was?—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I shouldn’t have just taken over. It’s your house and she’s the professional and?—”
“It was amazing.Youwere amazing,” I add quietly. “How did you know about what I’d want as far as the countertops and colors?”
She shrugs. “You talked about that oven the way most guys talk about sports cars. And I know you like to be comfortable. Plus, you clearly hated your place in Cincinnati because it didn’t feel like yours.” She offers me a tentative smile. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”
But no one else has figured it out. Or at least cared enough to try.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Really.”
Our eyes lock when I stop at a red light, and the air suddenly feels charged. I’m acutely aware of how close she is. How easy it would be to lean over and kiss her. We agreed not to do that again, but I’m seriously reconsidering the decision.
“Fee!” Ellie shouts. “Zoo! El’phants!”
“That’s right, munchkin. We’re going to see the elephants.” I do my best trumpet, and the toddler squeals in delight.
We spend the rest of the drive discussing the list of animals we’re going to visit. Ellie is practically vibrating with excitement by the time I pull into the parking lot. The Denver Zoo on a Wednesday is blissfully uncrowded, but I still pull my Buffaloes cap low and slip on sunglasses.
“Is that supposed to disguise you?” Piper asks with a laugh.
“At least let me fly under the radar a little.” I wink at her. “Celebrities use the ol’ ball cap disguise all the time.”
“Most celebrities aren’t six-three and built like a brick wall.”
“I’m six-four.”
She rolls her eyes. “I guess that extra inch makes all the difference.”
“You know it does,” I deadpan, and she laughs.
God, I love making her laugh.
We start with the elephants since Ellie is obsessed. Watching her face light up makes me think about Troy and Julie. How they’ll never again have any of these tiny, perfect moments. The enormity of the responsibility they left me lodges between my ribs, and I’m not sure how to trust myself to live up to their expectations.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Piper murmurs even as she keeps her gaze on Ellie, who stands at the fence bordering the elephant enclosure, gesturing to the two massive animals as she holds a conversation with them that only she can understand.
I laugh softly. “How can you tell?”
“The crease between your eyebrows gives it away.” She turns toward me, reaching up like she’s going to smooth it away, before dropping her hand. “I know you’re scared of messing this up. But Felix, you have to believe in yourself.”
The words hit somewhere deep, in a place I’ve been protecting since my parents’ divorce. Since Veronica. Since every relationship that confirmed I’m fundamentally not enough.
“I can play football and bake bread, Piper. It’s a limited skill set and not one that equips me to take care of an orphaned child.” I hate myself for disappointing her, but the truth is what it is. “You know the plan.”
“I know the plan,” she says tightly. She points toward the primate house. “Let’s go see some other animals. Maybe you’ll get some ideas on how to be part of a family unit.”
Ouch.
Before I can respond, Ellie runs over and grabs hold of my pant leg. “Monkeys!”
