Page 66

But no. I look exactly the same. I glance at the small pink box on the counter next to the mirror at my station and roll my eyes, pocketing my phone so I can't check my email one more time to see if I missed a new one somehow.

Not that I've given him any reason to continue trying. Pretty sure that was the whole fucking point to begin with.

But that little pink box still showed up this morning.

Just like yesterday morning, and the day before that.

The only morning I didn't have a box waiting for me was Tuesday morning when I woke up still pressed against his chest.

I swallow, mentally shoving all those thoughts back in the busted box I've been trying desperately to keep them contained in.

It's better this way. I wasn't expecting him to show up at my apartment the other day, and after he left, it was glaringly obvious that we didn't just need to tap the brakes, but we needed a full stop completely. For a while, so we can both calm the hell down. That was Tuesday. Now it’s Friday.

I wonder how many days it will take for the calm part to happen.

Stupid.

I clean up my station, wipe down the chair, and am just about to return to scrolling when the bell above the door chimes.

I'm so accustomed to the noise I probably would have missed it, but it's accompanied by a loud, “Unc Em!”

I fumble my phone, nearly dropping it from the jolt my body does from hearing that baby voice. I turn just in time to steady myself when Penny barrels into my legs.

My stomach drops down to my fucking ass, but my heart lurches, looking up and expecting one six-foot-something obnoxious man to be trailing the toddler.

I will not inspect the drop further—straight to hell—that happens when it's Sabrina, sheepishly finger waving at me from the other side of my chair.

“Hey, Emery,” she says, then pushes her hair behind her ear.

“Are you…” I ask, absently brushing my anxious fingers through Penny's blonde curls. I glance down at her, and she's smiling up at me, a dimple in her cheek and something smeared by her mouth. Her eyes are a familiar blue, and the inferno in my chest is instantaneous. I think my digestive system is allergic to this child, and I mean that in the most dramatic way possible.

“I called. I was hoping you would have an opening.”

My last-minute call-in.

I would laugh at the chances of me just happening to get a cancellation the day Sabrina decides to come in for the first time literally ever, but if I laugh, I may scream.

“Of course.” I point down to Penelope, raising my brows.

“Oh, no, not Pen. Dill would be pissed if he missed her first haircut.” Sabrina chuckles, and I force my lips into something like a smile.

Of course he would. Because Dillon is a dickhead who can do no wrong. He's the perfect dad. The perfect co-parenter. The perfect brother.

The perfect fuck.

I skirt around Penny to pull out a cape and motion for Sabrina to take a seat.

I hate everything about this moment as soon as I step behind her, gathering her hair to secure the cape at her nape.

Emery a few months ago may have enjoyed this in a nosy, masochistic kind of way. Me now? I'm hyper aware that this woman had Dillon, had a baby with Dillon and…and…

Dillon is gay.

I glance at Sabrina in the mirror, and she's watching me back with a little smile playing at her lips.

“What are you thinking? A trim? Big chop?”

“Just a trim. Maybe add some layers. I've been so dang busy, it's hard to find time for stuff like this.” I nod, like I totally understand the demands of running my own business and co-parenting. I grab the spray bottle from my rolling tray and start wetting down her hair, glancing at Penny who is opening every drawer at my station.