David raises an eyebrow. “Which part? The part where I told you to stop being a coward, or the part where my ex-wife showed up and nearly kidnapped my daughter?”
“Both, I guess.” I fiddle with my glass, not quite meeting his eyes. “You were right. About telling her the truth. About fear being universal. All of it.”
“I’m glad it worked out.” He takes a sip of whiskey. “You seem different. Lighter.”
“I feel different.” I pause. “Audrey’s good for me. I didn’t realize how much I was just... going through the motions until she made me stop.”
David nods slowly. “That’s what the right person does—or so I hear. I’m yet to find my person. But maybe it’s just something that isn’t in the cards for me. I made peace with that when I decided to just focus on being a good dad.”
He’s quiet after that, and I get the sense there’s more he’s not saying. About the woman who left him, about the daughter he’d die for, about whether it gets easier to settle for less than everything. I want to reassure him, but I don’t know how. It isn’t exactly my area of expertise.
Instead, I say, “You know, Michaela mentioned something interesting. When we were at the school that day.”
“Michaela mentions a lot of things. Most of them are unsolicited opinions about my life choices.”
“She said Principal Harrison—Nora—has ‘stars in her eyes’ for you.”
David goes very still. His glass pauses halfway to his mouth.
“She said what?”
“Stars in her eyes. For you.” I keep my voice neutral. “Also mentioned that the principal is single and ‘pretty and smart too.’ Direct quote.”
David coughs, nearly choking on his whiskey. For a guy who usually has the pulse of every interaction down to the microsecond, he’s completely caught out—blinking at me like an error message flashed behind his eyes.
“Michaela’s matchmaking logic comes from Disney Channel reruns and eavesdropping on adult conversations,” he finally manages. “I’m not... I’m not that guy anymore, Whitman.”
“What guy?”
He shrugs. “The guy who knows what he’s doing. The guy people give starry-eyed reports about.” He takes a slow drink. “Feels like a different life. But it’s nice, I guess. Knowing someone might still think I’m worth the trouble.”
I don’t push. David is like that—private geode, all spiked shell and hidden crystals. If Principal Harrison is going to get anywhere with him, it won’t be from someone else dragging him toward it.
“So, do you like her?” I ask, but even I can tell the question is too direct.
He side-eyes me, then looks away. “She’s interesting. Brilliant, in that fix-the-bureaucracy-with-a-smile kind of way. Fierce, especially when she’s fighting for her students.” He smiles. “But even if there was something, it’s complicated. She’s Michaela’s principal. There are professional boundaries. And after Kelsie...” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure I’m ready to put Michaela through another situation where someone might leave.”
“That’s fair.” I hesitate for a moment. “But for what it’s worth, you gave me advice about taking risks. About not letting fear keep me from something good. Maybe the same applies to you.”
David snorts. “Using my own words against me. Nicely done.”
“I learned from the best.”
Before he can respond, everyone returns from the bathroom. Caleb pulls a very willing Serena back toward the dance floor, and Audrey slides back in next to me, her cheeks flushed from whatever conversation she’s just had. She immediately tucks herself under my arm.
“What’d I miss?” she asks.
“Nothing,” David says smoothly. “Just discussing project timelines.”
“On a Saturday night? At a club?” She raises an eyebrow. “You two really need to learn how to relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” I argue, downing the last of my drink. Audrey tilts her face up so I have to look directly at her. There’s a flush in her cheeks—maybe the wine, maybe just the night. I pull her closer, wanting to keep her exactly like this.
“Wanna get out of here and do something less loud? My place, maybe. Or yours…” The suggestion is weightless, almost invisible in the noise, but it lands with the force of a small planet colliding with my orbit.
I nod, a little too eagerly. “Yours. Definitely yours.”
CHAPTER 19
