“Are you going out with the team tonight?”
“Nope. I was actually looking forward to seeing what happens next onSingles in Saint Lucia,” he admits, looking bashful.
“Aha! I knew you were invested.” I gleam because every time I have it on, he’s nearby either cooking or baking, but I’d catch him distracted and watching.
“Yeah, yeah.” He laughs. “Why do you ask, though?”
“Ian invited me out. I told him yesterday he needs more than baseball in his life, so now he wants me to be his wing woman.”
“Then I’ll be there,” he gruffs, not seeming pleased about that.
“Quentin, you don’t have to go. You didn’t want to originally. Just because I am doesn’t mean that needs to change,” I explain, not wanting him to feel like he needs to watch over me.
“I know, but I’d feel a whole lot better if I’m there. Besides, it’ll be nice to see the guys. They’re always bugging me to come out with them.”
“You can go out with them whenever you’d like. I don’t care,” I say.
“I like being at home these days,” he replies, his eyes moving from mine down to my lips and back up again.
Suddenly, this room feels even smaller, and we need to get out of here before we both make a choice we will regret.
“I’m going to go wait in the lounge for Ian. He’s giving me a ride. So I’ll see you around,” I say as I walk backward and open the door, knocked off-kilter by our interaction.
It has to be baby hormones, that’s it. I smile as I convince myself that’s the reasoning for the conflicting feelings swirling in my gut, rather it being for a legit reason.
There are a few women standing around the lounge, along with a couple children running around between the couches. My head swivels, doing a double take as I realize that one of those kids is my student, Olivia. Quentin’s niece. Blueberry’s cousin.
I’m about to avert my gaze when she turns and looks at me, her mouth gaping open.
“Miss Teagan!” she squeals as she runs over to me. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I, uh, my brother is a pitcher for the team. I came to watch him,” I fumble over my words, feeling like I’m being put on trial even though I’m telling the truth. Maybe it’s the fact that she has no idea about the baby yet that makes me feel anxious.
“That’s cool. My dad plays too. What are we doing in class on Monday?”
She’s bouncing on the heels of her feet as she talks, clearly having had way too much sugar today.
“Liv,” a sweet voice chastises, and when I look, I see that it’s her mom, Camille. “Let class be a surprise. Also, your cousin is on the phone.” She holds her phone out to her, and Olivia’s eyes widen.
“Yes!” she exclaims as she takes the phone and puts it to her ear, walking away as she chats on the phone like a grown-up would.
Camille and I both laugh, our eyes catching as it fizzles out. I swallow, feeling a sense of nerves, because I don’t know whatQuentin’s told her and I don’t know how she feels about it if she does know.
“I’m Camille, Quentin’s sister.” She holds out her hand to me, then retracts it. “I mean, we’ve met many times at drop-off and pick-up, but I figured with the…development,” she whispers, “I’d properly introduce myself.”
“It’s nice to properly meet you. I’m Teagan.” I extend my hand out, and she shakes it with a big smile on her face.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. Otherwise, I would’ve popped over sooner. But you’re welcome to come over anytime, or I can come to Quentin’s. My daughter has my phone, but I’ll tell Que to give you my number and shoot me a text so we can hang out.”
Her openness and kindness shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. She finds out her brother is having a baby after a one-night stand and she’s inviting me to her home to be friends? I can’t say I’d do the same if the roles were reversed. As much as my grandparents gave me a life surrounded with love, it didn’t lower the guard I’ve had up since my mom left us. I’ve always been wary of people and I don’t think I would have been as trusting and open as Camille is right now.
There’s one thing I know for certain—this family is full of good people.
Tears pricks at my eyes at the thought that Blueberry will get to grow up surrounded by that when I didn’t get the chance to have the same.
“Thank you,” I manage to get out, trying my best to bat them away, but my voice comes out shakier than I want it to. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get emotional.”
Suddenly, there are two arms wrapped around me, and I realize she’s hugging me.
