Fine by me.
The sun’s still high when I pull into the driveway. There’s a stillness to the house that I don’t trust. I’m halfway through wondering if something’s gone wrong when I step inside and hear it—
Singing.
Badsinging.
High-pitched and slightly off-key, the kind that should make your ears bleed but somehow… doesn’t. I follow the sound to the lounge, pausing in the doorway.
Olivia’s on the couch, sitting cross-legged in an oversized hoodie, and the shortest fucking shorts I’ve ever seen, belting out a song with all the energy of someone performing for a crowd.
My son, meanwhile, sits beside her, totally unbothered. Completely deadpan. Like this is normal. She hits a particularly dramatic note, clutching her chest like she’s in an opera, and Teddy snorts into his juice box.
I blink. “What the hell am I looking at right now?”
Olivia jumps, nearly falling off the couch. “Jesus Christ, Sebastian! Don’t just appear like that.”
“Didn’t realise I had to knock to enter my own house.”
She turns fully toward me now, strands of hair stuck to her cheek. “We’re watching Coco.”
I frown. “Coco?”
“Pixar?” she offers, as if that’s supposed to mean something.
I shake my head slowly. “Should I know what that is?”
“It’s only the most emotionally devastating animated film ever made,” she says, like that’s a good thing. “Teddy’s obsessed. We’re on our third watch this week.”
I glance at my son, who just shrugs.
“And the singing?”
Olivia grins. “It’s a sing-along version. Don’t act like you’re above it.”
“I’m very much above it.”
She laughs and tosses a popcorn kernel at me. I catch it mid-air without thinking. “You gonna stand there and judge, or join in?”
“Neither.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a grump.”
Too late. But she’s already refocused on the screen, picking up the next line of the song with unearned confidence. Her voice is still bad, but it’s unapologetic. Loud. Full of something I can’tput my finger on. Joy, maybe. Teddy rests his head against her arm. She doesn’t flinch. Just shifts slightly to make room, steadying him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And that right there? That’s what gets me. Not the movie. Not the singing. It’s everything else.
Or maybe it’s the shorts. Those fucking tiny shorts. Short enough to make my brain malfunction, hugging her hips and showing off smooth, lightly tanned thighs that should not be this distracting. I catch myself staring, and immediately hate myself for it.
I drag a hand down my face, trying to force my brain into something resembling professionalism before I do the unthinkable, or worse, get hard over my son’s babysitter. That’s it. I’m calling it. She’s annoying. She’s chaotic. She sings like a wounded bird. And this isnotgoing to end well for me.
Not one bit.
15
Olivia
The pool water shimmers like glass, with the sunlight scattering diamonds across the surface.
It’s one of those Wattle Creek spring afternoons in early October, where the sprinkling of heat starts humming in your bones. Xavier’s already half in, lounging at the edge with Callie splashing him. Gracie’s in her floatie beside Isla, who now has her sunnies perched on her head.
