The noise that churned in his throat didn’t say whether he approved of my decision or not.
For a moment, I thought about telling him about Rodrigo, but I didn’t. Seeing Anita had given me enough to deal with. Talking about my brother was a mountain I didn’t want to tackle yet with this man who was slowly becoming friendly with me.
When we were done a few minutes later, Josh’s coach gave me a serious, solemn look. “I’m gonna get going, but I’ll be home the rest of the day. Holler if you need anything, but I’ll keep a look out and make sure you don’t get any more visitors.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” I tried to insist.
Dallas let his head lull to the side a moment, watching me with those eyes. That pink mouth opened just enough so I could see the tip of his tongue tap the corner of his lips. “You’re friends with my family. We’re neighbors.” His eyelids hung low in a way that was almost a glare. “Give me a call if you need anything.”
The look I gave him must have said “You sure you’re not going to freak out about me calling?”because I would swear he scowled.
“Holler,” he repeated in that bossy tone.
I nodded at him, not completely convinced calling him was something I wouldn’t get unfriended for. “Thanks again.”
Dallas shrugged one rounded, muscular shoulder. “Make sure your doors are locked, all right?”
The nod I gave him was slow. That prideful part of me wanted to say I could take care of myself. Because I could. I had. I took care of two boys and me. But I kept my trap shut. I knew when to accept help and when not. It wasn’t like I had anyone else.
“Hey!” I called out to him all of a sudden. “Josh is having a birthday party next weekend. If you have nothing better to do, feel free to drop by. We’ll have food, and I’m inviting some of the other neighbors, too.” I didn’t need him thinking I was trying to reel him in.
Dallas hesitated for a moment, already walking away. His back was to me. “All right.” He didn’t move for a moment. “Keep an eye out next time you get home.”
Indignation flared in my chest at being treated like a stupid kid. What was with this man and his bossiness?
Those golden-brown eyes glanced over his shoulder. That familiar line formed between his eyebrows. “Don’t get pissed off,” he said, turning forward again before tossing out, “I only want to help. See you later.”
Chapter Eleven
“Louie Chewy,” I said his name calmly.
He didn’t look up at me. He knew what I was about to ask. I had eyes. So did he, and he was using his to look at the not-so-interesting sky.
I scratched the tip of my nose. “Where is your shoe, boo?”
Even after I asked him about the missing sneaker, which I knew for a fact he’d had on when we’d left the house—because why would he leave the house with only one sneaker on?—he still didn’t look down at his sock-covered foot. The same sock-covered foot that suddenly had curled toes inside of the blue and black material as if he was trying to hide. Jesus Christ.
He tilted his head to the side and shrugged those small shoulders. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
Not again. With his attention focused on something other than me, I didn’t feel bad about pinching the bridge of my nose. He knew I only did that when it was deserved, and this would count as one of those times. If someone had told me four years ago that little boys randomly lost their shoes for no reason at all, I would have laughed and told them “that sucks.” If Josh had ever misplaced a sneaker at a young age without being in my presence, Rodrigo hadn’t told me about it. Who the hell loses a shoe and isn’t blackout drunk? How the hell does someone lose a shoe to begin with? I wouldn’t walk around bragging about it either.
But now, two years into this guardian slash parenting gig, I understood how possible it was. Three-times-in-a-year possible. How my little biscuit of love, who was usually more prepared than me, had something go missing was beyond my brain’s capacity to comprehend. The fact was he did. Like him sneaking into my room and scaring me half to death, I should have been used to it. At least, I shouldn’t have been surprised he managed to do it.
As we stood near the bleachers at the field where Josh practiced, I glanced around, hoping to magically see a shoe that my gut expected was gone forever.
Fuck.
Crouching down, I set my bag on the ground next to us and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I told you to tell me when this stuff happens, Lou.” He still hadn’t made eye contact.
“I know.” I could barely hear him.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“I lost my shoe last week.” He had? “Grandma bought me the same ones, and she made me promise not to lose ‘em again.”
