“That’s the one.” She flopped down beside me with a dramatic sigh. “I figured she’s going to notice if I don’t and if I have to look at it, then so can you. Plus, it’ll give me something to blame if I have weird dreams.”
“Very thoughtful of you.”
“I’m a giver.” She stretched her legs out, nudging my thigh with her foot. “Seriously though, thank you again for letting me move in. You have no idea how much I needed this.”
“Trust me, I needed it too.” There was an unintended edge to my words. My stomach clenched. Maya was sharp, and I didn’t need her catching on. But no, she just smiled and didn’t push. Bless her.
The relief of not being alone in this house anymore was almost overwhelming. No more walking into that too-quiet kitchen every morning. No more sitting in the sunroom painting while the silence pressed in from all sides. Just Maya, with her easy presence and terrible taste in wall decor, filling up the empty spaces.
She grabbed the throw pillow from behind her back and hugged it to her chest. “So. Now that we’re officially roommates, I feel like I need to know all the dirt.”
“What dirt?”
“Any dirt. All the dirt.” She grinned. “But specifically, have you seen any more of Hot Dad Next Door since the trampoline incident?”
Heat crept up my neck. Of course she’d ask about that. I took a moment to think about how much to tell her. Lying and saying I hadn’t seen him at all felt wrong, but the whole truth felt impossible. So, I settled with, “Actually, yeah. I saw him the other day.”
Maya’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh huh. Tell me more.”
I set my sketchbook aside, pulling my knees up to my chest. “I made cupcakes. For his girls.” We’ll just skip over the whole reason why I did that.
“For his girls, you say. And how did that go?” Her tone made it clear that she didn’t buy the daughters cover story one bit.
The memory made me smile. “Really well. The girls are so sweet. They’re convinced I’m secretly a princess because I sleep in a queen bed.”
Maya laughed. “That’s adorable.”
“It is.” I picked at a loose thread on my jeans. “And Cam was... he was great. We had coffee and um…” It was hard to describe the tsunami of relief that had hit me when he’d simply invited me inside and made me coffee.
“And um?”
“And chatted.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like, then?”
The memory of how he’d looked at me when he asked if I was okay surfaced. That soft, genuine concern in his eyes. It made my breath hitch all over again.
“It was nice,” I said finally. “Different from what I expected.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know.” I struggled to find the right words. “He’s grumpy and quiet, but he’s such a good dad. Patient. Present. Like they’re his whole world, you know?”
Maya was watching me with narrow eyes. “You like him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face said it for you.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. You can’t really cry your heart out in a man’s lap and expect nothing to change. “I don’t know what I feel,” I admitted. “It’s complicated.”
“Feelings usually are.”
Before I could respond, a flash of chrome glinted outside the window. A truck pulled into the driveway next door. Cam’s truck.
