“Good,” West says, reaching forward and yanking at the lock for the back door. “Then let’s all go inside and we’ll sort this out.”
Quinn unbuckles and pushes open the door, slipping out before I can stop him.
“I—”
Another beat as they both ignore me.
“Quinn—”
My kid glances back over his shoulder at me, expression telling me I’m not going to like what he says next.
And it’s true.
I don’t.
Because it’s a lie.
“I need to use the bathroom, Mom,” he says as he follows West back toward the arena.
A throb in my temple, and no, I don’t know the inner working of my son’s bladder, but he’s nine. He’s not a toddler going through potty training. We watched the game, and though he ate his body weight in snacks and drank a jug of soda, he also used the bathroom before we walked to the car and I left him out here to wait.
Mom of the year, I know.
But it’s barely been an hour.
I know nature’s not calling.
And…this is the only safe place I could leave him.
I have a press pass, which means I have access to park in this gated structure beneath the arena.
And I couldn’t leave my kid in an open, unmanned parking lot while waiting to ask the only man I’ve ever loved a huge favor he has no need to grant me.
Hell, if anything, he’d be stupid as shit to help me after all I did to him.
But I had to ask.
For Quinn, Ihadto ask.
Only now, as I watch the two of them take off across the lot, move to the door to the arena, and walk inside, I know?—
Like everything else in my life…
I’ve gone and fucked that up too.
Five
West
“Wait here a second, kid,”I order quietly as I move into the dressing room—this being different than the locker room where the press congregate for interviews.
Different because it’s where we all shower and change, and the last thing the kid needs to see is a bunch of naked dudes.
I watch him nod then lean back against the wall.
Good.
I move straight to my stall, rip off the rest of my gear, ignoring the curious look that Huddy tosses my way, and get dressed in record time.