Page 93 of Singled Out

“I understand that fear, but Harper is not Dad. With Dad, the surprise was he stayed as long as he did.”

“Who told you that?” She’d been barely older than Danny when our dad took off.

“Mom. You should ask her about it sometime.” Dakota shrugged and stood. “I need to go so you can get to bed. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks.” I walked her toward the door, my mind reeling with the crapload she’d put in my head.

“You know I’m not some big romantic in love with love. I just have a feeling about you and Harper. I hope you don’t screw yourself and my roomie and, most importantly, my nephew out of fear, Max.” She rose to her toes and kissed my cheek. “Love you, big dummy.”

“Get out of here, shorty. Thanks for caring. I think.”

I shut the door as she walked toward her car, so bone-tired I wanted to ignore everything my baby sister had said. Unfortunately some of it hit too close to home.

What if she was right that I was in love with Harper?

I reminded myself that wasn’t the point. Protecting Danny—and okay, I could admit it, protecting myself—was the point. I needed to figure out how to get over it all and move on.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Max

I made it until Wednesday without asking my mom about my dad.

I wanted to ignore everything my sister had said Sunday night.

I wanted to get on with my fucking life and go back to how it was before, just Danny and me, fumbling our way through toddlerhood.

Yeah, and every time I tried to tell myself that, Harper popped into my head and made my chest hurt.

I tiredly made my way up the stairs to my mom’s house to pick up Danny. Letting myself in like I always did, I registered my mom’s and son’s voices coming from the bedroom end of the house. Instead of joining them, I wandered to the dining room slider that looked out over the backyard.

My mom’s yard was small but meticulously cared for, with her vegetable garden at the back, flower beds along the sides, and a meandering brick path. The deck was her haven, with potted mums everywhere and a maple tree shading it from the setting sun. The yard as a whole was like a miniature English garden.

This evening, I was compelled to go out the slider and sit on one of the chairs by the wrought-iron bistro table where my mom and Danny liked to eat their lunch. Normally picking up Danny was my favorite time of day, but tonight I was out of sorts. Tired in a soul-weary way.

Mills had been leaving school at the same time I left after football practice this evening. I’d kept my head down in the parking lot, acting as if I didn’t see him angling toward his car, when he called out my name and jogged over to me.

Is everything okay with you, Coach? he’d asked, walking beside me despite my refusal to slow my pace for him.

Everything’s fine, Mills. What’s up?

You’ve been distant. Lisa noticed too. And I overheard four of your players in my sixth hour saying you’ve been weird at practice all week.

I haven’t been weird.

Quiet, they said. Disengaged. Having Coach Castillo run most of practice.

I’d grunted. Oscar had been running things more this week, taking over drills, overseeing scrimmages. I’d been glad to let him because I was running on fumes from not sleeping.

You seem off-kilter, Mills had continued.

I’d merely grunted again and been over-fucking-joyed to reach my SUV. Night, Mills, I’d said, blowing all of it off in his presence.

I hadn’t been able to blow it off as I drove to my mom’s though.

I knew damn well I wasn’t in top condition for anything. How could I be when I only got a couple of hours’ sleep every night, and those hours were riddled with dreams of Harper?

The woman I loved.

---