Chapter
Ten
Leighton
* * *
Lake and I head to the kitchen, but Hayes’s hand runs down my forearm, giving it a tight squeeze when we cross paths as he walks to the front door. My breath hitches in my throat at the gesture of affection. Monroe is on his heels, hoping to God it’s not the pizza man but her bubble tea delivery.
Lake and I go into the kitchen, where surprisingly, Lincoln is doing his homework instead of being distracted by the chaos. Although I see his pencil furiously sketching over the page, which tells me he may or may not be concentrating as much as he should.
“So, like… he’s a big deal,” Lake whispers to me as she grabs the paper plates, and I get the napkins.
I look at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “You know… like, he’s a good player. I looked him up the other night.”
“Well, he’s a professional, so yeah, he’s a good player.”
“But, like, from what I saw, he had a rough year last year.” She cringes, and I chuckle under my breath.
Thankfully, Monroe’s squeal of excitement interrupts us because it doesn’t feel fair to have this conversation with Hayes only ten steps away from me.
He comes in with two pizza boxes, and Monroe has already stuck her straw in her bubble tea and is drinking it as if she’s in a race. Lake goes over to clean the table, clearing all the crayons and papers and answering one of Lincoln’s questions about a math problem.
It’s like a completely different house from the one I walked into earlier. I’m really hoping we’re done with the chaos, if just for tonight.
Hayes opens the pizza boxes on the counter. “So, everything go okay upstairs?” he asks under his breath, and I hear that hesitancy in his voice. He’s trying not to overstep, but he still wants to know. I’m not sure whether it’s concern or curiosity.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. She wants to go to a sleepover, and because I have to work, I originally told her she couldn’t, and it just… devolved from there. But things are good now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So, I heard Monroe explain her obsession with bubble tea today?”
“National Days calendar, huh? What on earth was Sky thinking?”
I give Lincoln and Monroe slices of cheese pizza. “I don’t know if it was her or Patrick, or if Monroe got her in some mommy guilt moment, but it’s a thing now. She’s put a check mark on every day they’ve already done.” I gesture toward the fridge.
He stares at the laminated list. “I mean, there’s something every single day.”
“That is the point of National Day.”
He pokes me in the side. “Smartass.”
I look at the list and the long way we have to go until it’s complete. “It’s not going to be easy.” I can’t hide my irritation or my weariness at the idea.
“No way she wants to do all of them. I mean, there are some things—like what is this one?” He points. “What could she have possibly done for World Stationery Day?”
“Well, Hayes, we made our own stationery with stamps. My fingers were blue for two days.”
He laughs, and the sound of it loosens something inside my chest. “At least you got some easy ones. High five day.”
“Except she high-fived literally every single person we passed on the street, on the way to school, on the way back, and during her dance class.”
He laughs again, and it’s so genuine that it warms that piece of my heart that will always be drawn to him.
“What kind of sadist comes up with this? Was their goal to drive parents insane?”
