“I get it,” I say, buckling my belt, even though part of me wishes she’d give any reason that didn’t sound so vague. “Really.”
Her eyes lift to mine then, a soft crease between her brows. “Thanks for understanding.”
I cross the room and press a kiss to her temple—gentle, nothing she can misinterpret. “Guess I should head out.”
“Yeah,” she says, voice quiet. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I turn toward the doorway, lingering one beat longer than I should. “Bye, Katie.”
“Bye, Wells.”
Chapter eight
Kate
If satisfaction could pay bills, I’d be sitting on a beach somewhere. If clarity came bundled with it, I wouldn’t be so lucky. Instead, I’m driving to my mom’s house with my pulse doing its own thing and a stomach full of butterflies that have zero interest in behaving.
Cam and I were supposed to be uncomplicated. Fun. A way to let off steam without rearranging our lives. No feelings, no expectations, nothing that risked spilling into the parts of me I protect most fiercely. But the way he looks at me, the way he shows up, the quiet steadiness tucked beneath his teasing, it all pushes at boundaries I’ve spent years reinforcing. And then he asked to do something very outside of our agreement, outside ofsex. Sure, he framed it around waffles and an afternoon for Evie, but it was still a date in disguise.
Turning him down felt awful. He didn’t deserve the clipped answer I gave him. But the thought of blending worlds—mine, his, Evie’s—sets off every alarm I have. My daughter doesn’t get introduced to anyone I’m involved with. Not until it’s something real, something lasting. And even though Evie knows Cam, she knows he’s a friend, nothing more.
I pull into my mom’s driveway, force out a breath, and paste on the kind of smile that hides everything I haven’t figured out yet. The second I step out of the car, the screen door bangs open.
“Mommy!”
Evie launches herself at me—curls flying, sneakers untied, backpack bouncing against her tiny frame. I crouch down just in time to catch her.
“Hey, sunshine.” I laugh, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smells like sunscreen and peanut butter. “Did you have fun with Grandma?”
She nods with the seriousness of someone reporting official business. “We made sandwiches, and I helped fold towels, and I’m not supposed to tell you but Grandma let me have a popsicle before dinner.”
I look up at my mom on the porch. She waves, entirely unbothered.
Evie beams. “It was blue. My tongue’s blue. Wanna see?”
She sticks it out before I can respond.
“Very impressive,” I say, fighting a laugh because she’s so proud of herself she can hardly stand it.
She studies me with narrowed eyes, head tilted in that way she gets when she’s about to expose something I don’t want exposed. “You look happy. Did you do something fun?”
I cough, reaching for casual. “I, uh…did laundry.”
Evie slips her hand into mine, swinging our arms. “Did Coach Wells come over and help you with the laundry?”
I stop mid-step. Behind us, my mom tries and fails to hide a laugh behind her lemonade.
“Where did you hear that?” I ask, aiming for calm and landing somewhere closer to strangled.
“Grandma said you’ve been ‘seeing’ him,” Evie announces, complete with tiny air quotes.
My mom sighs. “We talked about keeping Grandma’s gossip to ourselves, sweetheart.”
I press a hand to my forehead. “Mom, why would you tell her that?”
Evie shrugs, completely unbothered. “You said secrets make your tummy hurt. I didn’t want my tummy to hurt.”
I close my eyes. “Right.”
