My brother was gonna be a dad. Penny, a mom. My eyes prickled with emotion even thinking about them with a little baby. I loved my niece or nephew more than words, and it was just a little nugget at this point.
“Why you cryin’, Aunt Lotte?” Gwen walked up to me and hugged me. “No sad.”
“I’m happy. Sometimes people have happy tears.” I rubbed her back and smelled her hair. She always smelled like cookies and mischief.
“I don’t cry happy tears.”
“That’s okay. I do. Your hugs always help me though.”
“I love hugs.” She snuggled deeper into me and yawned.
“You tired?”
“No. No sleep.”
“Try again, princess.” Hayden walked out from the kitchen with his T-shirt sleeves rolled up, glasses on, and low-hanging gray sweats.
I blinked slowly, making sure I wasn’t fantasizing this. I’d done a lot of daydreaming that morning, mainly about Hayden and me, and this was straight out of it. My mouth actually watered.Speaking of distraction…
“Daddy, nooooo!” Gwen ran from me, giggling as Hayden chased her. He scooped her up into his arms. “No, Daddy!”
Hayden peppered her face with kisses, laughing his deep chuckle along with her. Despite his parents leaving, he seemed alright. It helped that Frankie worked out for short term while Hayden had already signed up to chat with the owner of the nanny service my friend had suggested.
It felt so good to be able to help him. Acts of service were not only how I felt loved, but also how I expressed it. My stomach filled with a horde of butterflies, fluttering in the wind as I watched Hayden interact with Gwen. I had never let myself look too much the last couple of years, so I wanted to soak up every ounce of them.
“We need to brush our teeth and go to bed. Say goodbye to Auntie Lotte!”
“Goodbye! Love!” Gwen blew me kisses before they disappeared down the hallway. Hayden and I had a system where she’d say bye to me, and I’d go hang in his room incase she snuck out. I’d done this almost every night this past week, and it felt natural, like I’d been here for months.
Usually, I’d play on my phone until Hayden returned, but a few minutes passed and the butterflies from earlier shifted to worry. It was a hot-air balloon in my gut, growing and filling with pressure. My interview was tomorrow. By some grace of God, I was able to not think about it all weekend, but now it came at me with full force. My pulse sped up, and I swallowed.
I can do this.
I practiced interviewing every free moment I had and knew my plan so well that I didn’t need to look at it. Exhaling, I scrolled social media and stumbled upon a photo of our athletic director, Chad, and two of the football coaches at a bar watching a football game.
Sundays are for the boys!was our athletic director’s description, written at eleven that morning.
Fuck. My eyes prickled again, and not from joy. They were out having drinks while I was frolicking about my parents’ house. Was that even allowed? It was like the world was taunting me, telling me the job wasn’t mine no matter what. I had just been starting to feel more confident about it too, and then this happened.
My notes were scattered all over Hayden’s bed as I focused on breathing. Just like when I played, I had to be mentally stronger than my physical reaction to nerves. Prepare. Execute. That’s all I could focus on, not Chad.
The door creaked open just as I sniffed.
“She’s finally down. That girl can chat.” Hayden stilled. “What happened?”
“It’s stupid.” I laughed, but it came out forced.
“No.” He moved toward the end of his bed and sat next to me, placing his hand on my thigh. “What’s going on?”
“Our athletic director is out for drinks with Chad. Well, this morning he was. I saw a post about it, and it got me in my feels.” I waved a hand in the air, like that had the magic ability to withdraw all these negative, not-helpful thoughts. Sadly, it did not work.
Hayden sighed. “What would help?”
“A damn distraction.” I fell onto my back, the papers falling everywhere around me and on the floor. “I’m too prepared at this point, but my mind is a racehorse right now, thinking about—Hey!”
Hayden yanked my legs toward him so I was under him. My heart leaped to my throat. His gaze swept from my hairline, over my lips and throat, to my thighs. His baggy shirt tickled my legs, and he gripped the end of it. “I like my shirt on you.”
“Oh.” The ball of emotions turned hot, sizzling even, as he stared at me with hunger. “I’m gonna steal it.”
