Page 79 of Lotus

Sydney is now leaning forward between the two front seats, one hand gently squeezing my shoulder. “Clem, you’re being super disrespectful to Oliver. He’s sitting right here. I promise Poppy was in good hands.”

“Whatever. I’ll just need to reevaluate my childcare arrangements.”

“What the hell? Are you threatening to keep me from my niece?”

“I’m not threatening anything.You’rethe one threatening my child’s safety.”

A horrified gasp. “Excuse me?”

My protective instincts poke through, causing me to speak in Sydney’s defense. “Maybe it’s not my place, but Sydney is wonderful with Poppy. She would never jeopardize her safety.”

Clementine’s caustic eyes are pinned on me. “You’re right, it’s not your place. You know nothing.”

“Okay, we need to table this for now,” Sydney declares, collapsing back against her seat. Her voice cracks, clearly rattled. “It’s not fair to Oliver. We’ll discuss tomorrow.”

“Fine,” is Clementine’s curt reply.

And then the venomous silence infiltrates once again, lasting for the duration of the drive home. It’s a relief when we pull into Sydney’s driveway and exit the vehicle—like a breath of fresh air. An essential reprieve.

Clementine transfers a groggy Poppy to her own vehicle, not saying a word to me or Sydney, nor sparing us a parting glance. She slams her car door and disappears into the night, leaving us both standing in the driveway, confused and sucker-punched.

Sydney’s eyes are glistening with the tears she held in for forty long minutes, her arms crossed, her feet fidgety. She looks up at me with a quivering chin. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. I have no idea what that was all about. Please don’t take any of it to heart.”

While the implication stung, I’m far more concerned about Sydney right now. I move in to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, watching as her eyes flutter closed, a tear slipping through. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to a be a parent. We are protective of the ones we love.”

Her eyes open slowly, meeting mine, as she reaches up to clasp my hand, giving it a tender squeeze. “Yes, we are.”

Our prolonged stare scalds me, and I’m forced to look away. As much as I want to continue what we started in that bedroom, I realize now is not the time. “Well, goodnight,” I whisper, learning forward and pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’ll talk soon. Get some rest.”

I flash her a smile before I turn away, but she stops me. My name meets my back, as if it escaped through her lips unplanned.

“Oliver.”

Our eyes meet again, the flame still lit. “Yes?”

“I, um…” She glances away, scratching at her collarbone, then returns her focus to me. “I probably won’t be able to fall asleep for a little while. Did you… did you want to come inside with me? We can watch a movie while I wind down?”

“Oh.” I was not expecting the offer, but I’m certainly not opposed. Nerves dance across her pretty face beneath the moonlight as she squeezes her upper arms, blood red nails digging into her coat sleeves. Sydney’s breath hits the air like plumes of smoke, a fitting parallel to the fire in her eyes. “All right. A movie sounds wonderful.”

The anxiety in her eyes flitters away like a blue bird, a relieved smile taking its place. “Great.”

Her house is dark as we make our way inside, Alexis greeting us at the door per usual. I provide her with some well-deserved ear scratches, while Sydney discards her coat and shoes, shivering slightly as she flips on the light switch.

“I’m still on edge whenever the house is dark,” she says, running her hands up and down along her biceps and blowing out a quick breath. “It happened months ago, but I still always feel like he’s in my house, hiding, waiting for me to let my guard down. I can’t believe he was never caught.”

Her attacker, I presume. “You know I would never let anything happen to you.”

A bold promise, and one I couldn’t possibly uphold. Life is far too unpredictable.

However, the sentiment has her lips tipping upward, her gaze filled with gratitude. “I’m going to change out of this dress. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

My nod meets her slow retreat, as if she’s reluctant to leave me. Then her words register, and I have to force myself to push away thoughts of her changing out of her dress.

God, that dress.

The only thing preferable to Sydney wearing that dress, is Sydneynotwearing that dress. It’s an image that has me shuffling over to the couch with my breath in my throat and the blood rushing south. Luckily, Alexis curls up beside my thigh with a contented mew, and I’m temporarily distracted until Sydney returns, adorned in her typical t-shirt that almost entirely covers her cotton shorts. Her long, bare legs approach, and she plops down beside me on the sofa, our shoulders touching. She gifts me a quick glance with the shyest of smiles before fumbling for the remote control that is stuck between the cushions.

“Movie,” Sydney voices, like she needs the reminder. “Anything you want to watch?”

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