“I brought you dinner.” I hold up the container. “Or breakfast, whichever you call it.”
“Theo . . .” She sighs, and I can hear the fatigue in her voice. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“So then stop fighting with me and let me come in.” I follow her up the front steps that have seen better days. She slides her key into the lock and lets me in, the hot, thick air assaulting us right away.
“Do you want to go shower while I warm up your food?” I ask her.
“I want to go shower.” Her face looks paler than it did yesterday. “But it might be easier to get this talk out of the way so you can go and I can relax.”
“I’m not leaving,” I assure her, and she just shakes her head.
“Theo, really.” She puts her bag down on the kitchen table and holds on to the back of the chair. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to drag this out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I brought you dinner.” The sudden need to be near her, to take care of her, is more powerful than I care to admit. I walk over to the kitchen and put it on the counter. “We’re going to sit down and talk a bit. You are going to eat, and then I’m going to leave.”
“Fine,” she gives in, the exhaustion winning. “Whatever.” She leans over the sink to open a window.
“I got that,” I tell her. “Go shower.”
She looks down at her feet, not sure what to do. I’m waiting for her to fight back, but instead, she walks toward the back of her house, where her bedroom is. I open the windows, then go out to my truck and grab the two new fans I bought when I picked up a new nail gun. I hear the shower going as I put the food in the old microwave, ready to start when she comes back into the room.
I pull the fans out of the boxes, fill one up with water and a couple of ice cubes, and plug it in. I then start breaking down the boxes.
“What is that?” She’s standing behind me. I hadn’t heard the shower turn off. Her blonde hair is down, wet, and brushed back. She has not a lick of makeup on, and her eyes are a color I don’t think I’ve ever seen in my life—gray on the outside with a yellow in the middle—but when she looks at the fan and then back at me, they seem green. That day in the bakery, they looked blue. They are mesmerizing.
“I got you these. Figured you could put one in the kitchen and then take one to your bedroom. It’s the newest on the market. It’s like air-conditioning without the hose for outside. Brings in the heat from one side, and with the water, it turns it into cold air.” I look at the fan. “I’m not sure how it works, but it’ll do until I can get someone in here to install a system.”
She holds up her hand at me. “I’m sorry, what system?”
“This house is a furnace. Probably because the insulation isn’t what it should be. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you probably won’t let me insulate it properly, so I’m compromising.” I can see on her face that I have to go slow. She’s got a wall around her that is so high it’s going to take everything I have to knock it down.
“You’re compromising by buying me an air-conditioning unit?”
“Yes.” I start the microwave. “I made steak. I would have texted to ask you if you like steak, but I don’t have your number.” The microwave beeps, and I open the door. “Not sure if this is warm enough, but if not, we can zap it some more.” I look at the container. “I should have just cooked the steak here.” I close my eyes. “Next time.”
“Next time?”
“Yes, next time.” I put the container on the table and pull out the chair. “I’m going to be in this, Collins.” She stares at me. “I want to do this. I’m going to be a part of our child’s life, that’s nonnegotiable.” I swallow the lump down. “Part of your life too. That we can negotiate, but I’m really fucking hoping you’ll have me.”
CHAPTER TEN
COLLINS
I stare at him, listening to his words. My head’s already spinning with the fact that he bought me two fans. Something I know I won’t be able to fucking pay him back for, and if that wasn’t enough, he just told me he’s having an air conditioner installed.
“Next time?” That’s the only thing I can say about everything he’s thrown at me.
“Yes, next time.” He puts the container on the table and then pulls out the chair for me. He’s brought a grilled steak and steamed veggies. My mouth waters. “I want to do this. I’m going to be a part of our child’s life, that’s nonnegotiable. Part of your life too. That we can negotiate, but I’m really fucking hoping you’ll have me.”
The emotion washes over me like a wave hitting sand. “You really don’t have to do this.”
“Collins, sit. And eat.”
I sit as he fills a glass of water for me from the pitcher in the fridge. The cold air from the fan hits me right away, and I look up, seeing it moving side to side.
“Theo. How much were the fans?” Maybe I can start a list of what I owe him, in case I win the lottery.
“Why does it matter?” He sets the glass in front of me and pulls out the same chair he sat in last night. Exactly like last night, he puts his arm around the other chair. The light-gray T-shirt pulls over his chest. I grab the steak knife and fork and focus on cutting a piece, trying not to lust over him. Focus, Collins, focus.
