Page 225 of A Song for You

“It sounds pretty sweet.”

I chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

“Testing out my dad jokes,” he says, then he takes a bite of his own. “Do you think Chloe will laugh? She’ll get them, right? She’s smart.” He shakes his head. “Of course she’ll get them.”

Placing my hand on his knee, I lean forward so he’s forced to look at me. “Jay,” I say softly, “Chloe’s crazy about you. She doesn’t need jokes.”

He drops his chin to his chest. His hair falls over his eyes, making him look so much younger than he is as he peeks up at me. “Really?”

I squeeze his knee. “Yes, just like me. We’re both crazy about you.”

He latches on to the armrests of my chair and drags me closer, spreading his legs so I’m tucked between them. With his hands on my cheeks, he looks at me with so much reverence that my breath catches.

“What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?”

The air trapped in my lungs forces its way out, and I push him away. “Jay!”

He grins. “Nacho cheese!”

The man is ridiculous, but I can’t help but laugh.

“She really likes me?” he whispers against my hair.

I nod into his chest. “She’s sad that you’re not coming over tonight.”

He pushes back and peers down at me. “I thought we were having Chinese?”

My shoulders sag as the weight of his disappointment is added to Chloe’s. “I have a date.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “This is the last one, Cat. I’m done with this shit.”

“It was your idea.” I pull back. “And I didn’t put us in this position.”

Jay looks away, his jaw ticking.

“I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath. “Jay,” I plead, begging him to look at me.

He shakes his head. “You’re right. It’s my fault. Keeping you and Chloe safe is all that matters. Not my fucking ego and the bruising it takes when you’re out with someone else.”

Palming his face, I force him to look at me. “It’s like a business meeting. That’s it. You and Chloe, you’re my world. Only you.”

He leans in to my touch, his lashes fluttering as he settles into my confession.

When the phone on my desk rings, we both jolt at the sound, and Jay pulls back.

With a sigh, I pick it up. “Catherine James, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Ms. James, this is Mrs. McCormick. I’m the nurse at St. Luke’s Middle School. Chloe is in my office complaining of a stomachache.”

“Oh, okay. Does she need to come home?”

Jay’s eyes dart to mine, and worry etches itself in every line on his face.

“Do you want your mom to pick you up?” Mrs. McCormick asks, her voice quieter, like she’s pulled the phone away.

I listen for Chloe’s muffled response, and then she’s on the line. “Hi, Cat. It’s okay. You don’t have to pick me up if you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”