Page 120 of See You at the Finish Line

“I know you. I figured this would remind you of your family.”

She wraps her arms around me. I wonder if my family would notice if I stole her away for a few minutes. Or hours.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Simon calls before chucking a tennis ball at us. I guess not. I catch the ball with one hand before it can hit us. I sigh. With my other hand, I tilt Paige’s chin up and kiss her softly, feeling the smile on her lips. I want it all for myself.

“Adam.”

The familiar disapproving voice fills my veins with ice. Apparently, my parents are going to arrive whenever I’m kissing Paige. I jerk away from her and my walls slam up. I shut my emotions down. The practice is so automatic Ido it without thinking.

From the corner of my eye, I see Paige’s brows pinch as she looks between me and my father.

“Dad,” I say. It’s been a whirlwind of a few months with Paige, and the emptiness in my voice is a stark contrast to everything I’ve been feeling lately. I don’t like it.

“Hello, Mr. Ashford.” Paige’s calm voice comes from beside me. She slides her hand in mine and squeezes. “I’m Paige.” She extends her other hand to him.

My dad isn’t a complete tool. He takes it.

“Paige, it’s nice to meet you.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence and then Liam’s voice calls over.

“Hey, Dad! You made it just in time, we’re about to eat!”

I take a deep inhale, catching a whiff of Paige’s coconut shampoo as my dad walks past us.

“Adam?” Paige whispers to me, the sound of her voice cracking my defences. Her smell, her touch—those things make me feel. And I cannot feel around my dad. I slip my hand out of hers, pulling back.

Isabel saves me, coming over to link arms with Paige, tuggingher away. I keep my gaze fixed on the ground, but I can feel Paige’s attention still on me, even as Isabel tries to distract her.

“Come on, Paige, if we don’t sit down, Simon and Jake will take the best spots.”

“There are best spots at the table?” There’s trepidation in Paige’s voice that wasn’t there before. I want to blame my dad, but I know this falls on my shoulders. I’ve never had to manage anyone’s feelings but my own when my dad is around.

I hope I didn’t hurt her. I follow closely behind them as we make our way to the large picnic table.

“Of course,” Isabel whispers conspiratorially, “as far away from the bean pole as possible.” She jabs a thumb at Liam, who overhears her like she meant him to. Paige snorts.

We sit around the table and begin dishing out the food. There are sexually explicit moans as everyone digs into the ribs Isabel prepared. Paige’s own groan pierces right through my walls as I remember the last time she made that sound. We were in our shower and I was on my knees, tasting her.

I raise my brows at her, feeling a small smile tug the corner of my mouth.

She closes her eyes, holding in her laugh.

Her joy does something to me and if this was any other moment, I would let it fill me. I would lick the barbeque sauce off the corner of her lip. But I can’t because I feel my dad’s eyes on us.

“So, Paige, I hear you’re a massage therapist,” my dad begins. And just like that, the table quiets.

Paige swallows her food and clears her throat. “Yes, I am.”

My dad nods at the confirmation. “And do you find you are fulfilled by helping people?”

She takes her time answering, and the silence grows every second the response my dad wants to hear doesn’t fall from her lips. She cocks her head as if she’s assessing him and right in that moment, I can see how she was raised.

By a mom who taught her how to stand up for herself, who didn’t give a shit about what other people thought. I begin cleaningmy hands with a damp towel, ready to whisk her away if this goes poorly.

“Yes, partially,” she says, not a tremble in her voice. “I don’t think I could be completely fulfilled by a job.”

“Oh?” There is so much criticism bubbling in his tone that I place my hand on Paige’s thigh and squeeze. Even I don’t know if it’s in warning or support. I hold my breath.

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