“Her mom’s coming to get her at twelve,” I answer.
Lainey’s face instantly falls. “I wish you could stay longer.”
The next instant, she bursts out in tears, and I quickly get up and rush around the island.
Wrapping my arm around Lainey’s shoulders, I hug her and coo, “I’m sorry you’re hurting, my sweet girl. Shh. I’m here.”
“C-can Porsha stay longer?” she asks through shuddering sobs.
“Of course,” I answer while slightly pulling back. “I’ll call her mom.”
Lainey’s tears lessen, and when I’m sure she’s calming down, I quickly head upstairs to grab my phone. Once I have the device, I press dial on Charlotte’s number while walking back to the kitchen.
“Morning,” Porsha’s mom answers cheerfully.
“Morning. I’m calling because the girls would like to hang out for a while longer.”
“Sure. What time should I pick up Porsha?”
Unsure, I ask, “Maybe before dinner?”
Lainey’s expression fills with hope.
“Great. I’ll be there around six tonight,” Charlotte says.
“Thank you.”
As I end the call, I inform the girls, “Porsha can stay until six p.m.”
Porsha takes hold of Lainey’s hand and asks, “Do you feel better?”
Lainey nods and leans her head on her best friend’s shoulder. “Yeah.”
When I sit down at the island again and pick up my cup of coffee, I ask, “Why don’t you change out of your pj’s? Then you can lie on the couch and watch your favorite movies?”
The girls nod, and slipping off the stools, they head up the stairs.
When Easton’s hand settles on my back, I’m startled, and my body jerks. He quickly pulls away, and his features grow tense with a worried expression as he sits down beside me.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I nod, and noticing my hand is trembling, I set the mug down and grip my hands tightly together on my lap. I take a fortifying breath before forcing a smile to my face. At least, I hope it looks like a smile, as I ask, “Did you sleep okay?”
God, my nerves are killing me.
He tilts his head, and instead of answering me, he asks, “Are we okay after what happened last night?”
Nope. Not by a long shot.
I quickly nod. “You?”
Easton glances at the living room while saying, “I’m fine.”
It’s clear as daylight we’re both lying.
Lifting my hand, I brush the pad of my finger over the handle of the mug, then I whisper, “I just want what’s best for you and Lainey.”
It takes a long moment before Easton asks, “And what about what’s best for you?”
