Page 100 of Sweet Distraction

“You’re overthinking something,” Rocket says and takes a sip from his can of beer on the edge of the pool.

I immediately sputter. “No. Not at all. Just thinking about . . . something I—uh need to add to my to-do list.”

Rocket smirks. “Very important to remember in this moment.” He doesn’t buy it for a second.

“It is.” I snort and tug on Poppy’s hand so that she comes a little closer to me. “Truth? I have a million things going on. It was nothing in particular.”

“Anything I can help with?” The way his eyes scrape over me says he’s thinking what I’m thinking. “Need a distraction? Me to walk past you shirtless in the hall? A late-night . . . snack break?”

My cheeks flush, but at least I’m not the only one sitting here dying a slow death of arousal. “Perhaps. I mean . . .”

“All that to-do list making must make you tense. I’m sure a little release would help you out.”

“Yes. That might be exactly what I need.” I chuckle as he clears his throat and subtly adjusts himself as he moves his waist below the waterline so Poppy doesn’t notice his erection.

He walks off the step and into the pool. I study the lines of his back and wonder what it is that’s bugging him. He hasn’t quite been himself the past few days—or at least the easygoing man I’ve grown to know.

Normally, I’d think it’s that we had sex and having to see me—a conquest—every day is panic inducing to him, but his comments just calmed that overthinking frenzy. So this . . . this is something different.

“I’ll ask the same,” I say to him. “What are you overthinking about?”

“Not overthinking . . . I just needed to talk to you about a few things.”

His words still cause dread to lurch in my stomach. “Like?”

He watches Poppy for a beat, then looks at me. “As you know, the second leg of the tour is coming up.”

“Yes.” The white elephant in the room has made its presence known. I’ve been waiting for this—the I’ll be gone, and you can hold down the fort here talk—I just didn’t think it would feel like this. Like a door opening and a cliff nearing all at the same time.

“Thoughts on if you want to come?” His eyebrows lift from behind his sunglasses. “I think it’s a good idea if you do.”

My heart flips from equal parts hope and panic.

“Like . . . what exactly would I do while you’re on tour?” I chuckle self-deprecatingly. I’ve never picked up my life for anyone—well, besides coming and being his nanny now that I think about it—so the idea is a tad unsettling.

“When you nannied in college, did you ever go on vacation with the family you were working for? It’s the same thing, is it not? You go on tour with us, but everything stays the same—you take care of Poppy, you can work on those online enrichment classes you were talking about to get ready for your master’s—other than the downside of being in a new hotel room every couple of days, you’ll have new cities and places to explore with Poppy.”

“Rocket, I . . .” But I’m also sleeping with you. How exactly does that play in this?

But I don’t want to ask, don’t want to define, or assume something I just took for granted—that whatever this is between us is exclusive.

“The best part is that this leg is short. So by the time you’re sick of traveling, it’ll be done, and we’ll be back here.” Rocket catches the narwhal that Poppy tosses at him and then he tosses it back to her delight.

“Again,” she shouts, and both Rocket and I suck in breaths as our heads whip so that we look at each other and then immediately back to Poppy.

“Poppy! Look at you using your words,” I sing as Rocket swoops her up and spins her around, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She giggles and snuggles her head under the curve of his neck, her face shining with pride.

Rocket murmurs something in her ear that I can’t hear or read from his lips because her pink floatie blocks my view, but when he asks her, “Do you want me to throw it again?”

She nods but keeps her arms locked around his neck so he settles back down on the step beside me with Poppy on his lap and the most joyful expression on his face.

“So what do you say about the tour, Wills?” he asks as both he and Poppy stare at me with matching eyes.

Excitement bubbles up. So does trepidation. Clearly, he’s never broken a toddler’s routine before. But . . . at the same time, this is the chance of a lifetime, isn’t it?

“You’ve never mentioned us going with you before. Why now?”