Page 99 of Strictly the Worst

“Can we do something in the morning before I have to leave?” she asks.

“Sure.” I’m stupidly pleased that she wants to spend more time with me. I don’t think I’ve ever interacted with a thirteen-year-old before. At least, not since I was a teenager myself. Some of my brothers have kids but they’re younger. “We could go out for breakfast maybe. There’s this diner that has the biggest pancakes you’ve ever seen.”

“Chocolate chip?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

She holds her hand up for a high five. And when our palms slap I start to wonder if her high five was for her or for me.

Five minutes later, Tessa appears back in the living room. I look up from my laptop, smiling when I see she’s in her pajamas too. But these ones are silk. Long pants and a camisole top.

“I can see your nipples, Carmichael,” I say, my voice low.

“That’s because you’re a perv.” She shoots a glance to her left to make sure Zoe’s door is shut.

“Want a glass of wine?” I ask, handing her the remote. “Let’s watch a movie or something.”

“You want to watch a movie?” She sounds skeptical. “Isn’t that a little… boring?”

“I thought we’d established that I like boring.” I head to the kitchen and grab two glasses, filling them with some crisp cold Pouilly Fume I bought on my last trip to Paris. “It’s you I worry about.”

“Me?” She glances at me over her shoulder as I walk back to the table.

“Yeah. I know you’re not used to this kind of lifestyle. That you’re all about the hot guys and sex parties. But I thought maybe you could try my world for one night.”

“Give me the wine, Salinger,” she says, shaking her head. I pass her the glass and she takes a long sip. “That’s good. Where’s it from?”

“I can’t remember,” I lie, because I don’t want to mention Paris. I don’t want to mention anything that could pierce this little bubble we’ve got going on tonight.

Carmichael, me, and her kid. The three of us staying home on a Saturday night.

Thank god my brothers can’t see me. They’d laugh their asses off if they could.

TESSA

“Bedtime,” Linc says when the movie ends, holding the remote up to turn off his stupidly big television. I grab our empty glasses and carry them into the kitchen, loading them into the dishwasher.

We only drank two glasses of wine in the end. And then I kind of fell asleep for most of the movie. I remember startling awake when a shooting scene came on, only to find my cheek propped against Linc’s shoulder, his arm around my waist.

It felt… safe.

Which if I think about for too long, makes me feel unsafe. I’ve spent the last two years rebuilding mine and Zoe’s life. I don’t want to rely on anybody else to make me feel safe.

I want to do it alone.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Linc tells me as we walk up the stairs. “Care to join me?”

“I can’t.” I look at Zoe’s door. And then it opens. One side of Zoe’s face is creased from where she’s been lying on it. I can tell she’s been asleep from the thickness of her voice. “Mom?”

“Yes honey?” I take the few steps back down.

“I think I forgot my gym bag. And we have track on Monday.”

Linc sniggers.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yep. Sorry. Can we pick it up tomorrow on the way to Dad’s?”

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