Page 44 of The Foul Out

I wanted to lose it on this crossing guard with an overly inflated ego. Could she not see what I was dealing with? Couldn’t she wait until I’d gotten Piper out of the car before she harassed me?

From his car seat, Sam set his worried brown eyes on me. They were full of apprehension, but also embarrassment. He hated days like this. I had to remain cool and collected for him as well as Piper, because next year, this would be his school, and the last thing I wanted was for him to dread being here.

“No school. You can’t make me.” Piper grasped the armrest of her booster seat and tugged.

Before I remembered not to use my left hand, I locked it around the other armrest and held it in place. Although the injury was improving and the bruise had started to fade, pain still radiated up my arm.

“Put it down.”

She kicked again. This time landing a blow to my ribs.

My eyes burned. Between my hand and my hip, I was done. I grabbed the seat with my good hand and let my injured one dangle at my side. “Put it down,” I pleaded, my voice cracking.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice called from behind me.

I ignored it. Having a bigger audience would do me no good. When Piper was in a mood as bad as this one, it was a struggle to get her back in control. Dealing with people we didn’t know hovering nearby only made it worse.

My hand was still locked onto the car seat, my eyes on her face, although she wouldn’t look at me. “Let go of the seat.”

The newcomer stood so close, his heat soaked into my back. An arm brushed against my shoulder, and then there was a set of blue Revs headphones dangling between my daughter and me.

With a blink, Piper stopped yanking on the seat she had been trying to throw at me.

I didn’t have to turn to know who had joined us. The headphones were identical to the noise-canceling kind Kyle had given her at Little Fingers.

On Monday, we’d come to an agreement about keeping our distance, and so far, we’d stuck to it. Though Sam and Piper talked about seeing him each day, I hadn’t. So why was he here now?

Piper blinked again, then she finally released the booster seat so she could snag the headphones. Once she’d pulled them over her ears, she shut her eyes and slumped against the front seat.

I should have been relieved. The fight was over, at least for the moment, and I was no longer drowning. But now I waswallowing in the guilt and defeat that came with feeling as if I’d failed my child. I’d fought with her for almost fifteen minutes, yet Kyle had calmed her in a matter of seconds.

I dropped the booster seat and spun to the man behind me.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my tone harsher than I meant it to be.

He held both hands up and took a step back. “Dylan said you were running late because Piper didn’t want to go to school. I’m just trying to help.”

“Why?”

It didn’t make sense. Days like today were emotionally exhausting. I loved my daughter fiercely, but even I didn’t want to be here right now, so why the hell did this man keep showing up?

He took another step back, his palms still in the air. “I just wanted to help.”

I glanced down at the kids. Piper’s eyes were shut, and Sam was watching us. Though his expression had evened out a bit. Lightly, I pushed the car door shut. And then I took a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to be rude, but Kyle, I barely have enough bandwidth to get through good days, let alone days like this, without your commentary.”

His deep brown eyes met mine. The lines around them softened slightly.

“I don’t have anything left, and even if I did, I literally don’t have time. Not for games, not for criticism, not for anything.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “So whatever you want from me, whatever you’re looking for, I can assure you, I don’t have it.”

The last thing I expected when I poured it all out like that was for him to pull me into his chest. Though that wasn’t true, Isupposed, because what was even more surprising was the way my body melted into him like a hug was exactly what I needed.

The second I was encircled in his strong arms, I sagged. Like I’d let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The wall of his chest was the solid support I needed to keep me upright, and my head rested perfectly below his shoulder. It was odd, the way a simple hug made me feel like I wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore. My eyes welled, but I blinked hard, staving off the tears. I was not going to cry over a hug. That was ridiculous.

I forced in a deep breath. Despite my efforts, it was shaky. But there was nothing I could do to hide that detail.

After my second breath, Kyle finally spoke. “I don’t want anything from you, Crabby,” he whispered against the top of my head. “I promise I’m asking for nothing. Just let me be the rope you can grab on to when you need me. Because, trust me, I know what it is to feel like you’re drowning.”

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