Page 53 of Perfect Playbook

She scoffs.

I thought she’d protest more and make a feminist comment, but she doesn’t. Her thoughts are tangible in the air, I can feel them heavy and present, but I’m no expert at braille. I search for more unrelated topics to fill the space for her.

“Nino seems happy. Tomorrow I’ll read…”

“Logan I’m scared,” she blurts.

“Scared?” I instinctively take her hand; she doesn’t pull it away.

“Not scared. Just worried. Am I really letting that little boy be around kids twice his age all day? They’re going to be talking about sex when he’s like seven. And… he’s so innocent, Logan. I don’t want him to lose that.”

I reach my arm around her back and rub her soft skin, trying to soothe her. The pillow presses between us, and my dick sinks into the soft feathers.

“It’s a big deal. It’s normal you’d be worried about these things.”

I can’t tell her it’s going to be okay and I don’t want to. Validating her is the best way to be her friend, though urging my hips deeper against the pillow is not. Am I a scumbag for having this kind of reaction while she’s worriedabout Antonio? I take my hand back and lay it on our line of demarcation. It doesn’t feel right not to hold her when she’s down, to gather her up in my arms and make her feel safe. But no touching is a rule that’s good for both of us. My senses are on fire being this close to her in bed, and she needs me in every way but the way my groin is telling me.

She swallows thickly. “I don’t know any of these adults promising to take care of him. It was hard enough taking him to school in Starlight Canyon where I know some of the teachers and so many of the other parents. It’s predictable here.”

What can I give her that will help? I’ve never been a parent. I don’t know what it’s like to have this level of intense worry and responsibility over someone. The Shay I know has always been more of a homebody than a party girl. More movie nights than two for ones at Slys. And that’s where I shine. I’m a chameleon. I’m adaptable. I can bring her to the shoreline on this wild sea.

“If there’s one thing I know about, it’s how to cope with life changing way too fast. When I was a kid, I was constantly being put into new situations. It’s a lot, but I can tell you from experience, Nino is more resilient than you think, especially because this change will feed his passion. He’ll be excited, I can see that in him. From what I see, you have great communication with Nino, so all these concerns that you see coming from a mile away, you’ll be there for him. He’ll be okay. Not only okay, but I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have the time of his life.”

“Mmm.” Her tiny hum is a loaded response. “Yeah, that’s what my dad said. That Nino is resilient.”

“As long as he has you.” I tap her nose.

She laughs lightly. “My dad said that, too. Except he said as long as he hasus.”

The darkness is a space for such words, but with my dick still full only inches from her thigh, I’d rather not consider them.

“I’m pretty sure how you’re feeling right now is all part of what makes you a loving mom,pastelito. Let yourself worry. But let yourself think it’s going to be okay, too.”

If I thought my words would shift my attention to Nino, they’ve had no such effect because it’s my exact state of mind when it comes to this raven-haired beauty on the other side of the pillow. Why does she hold back from me so hard now? And why, despite that, do I think I can still have her as mine?

She shuffles her face closer; if she only knew what it was doing to me and how much I want to shred this pillow right now. The only thing I want to do is take her in my arms and kiss her all better. My pulse races, whooshing in my ears.

“Thanks for listening, Logan. Sorry to bother you with my bullshit. Especially after you’ve had your own long day.”

I hum a response. Maybe I am just tired, but the thought of saying goodnight and rolling over without her in my arms burns a searing loneliness through my body.

I take one last touch for my dreams and trace her jaw with my thumb to make sure she’s paying attention. “We’re in this together.”

She places her hand on mine. The weight of it presses my palm deeper onto her cheek, but it doesn’t take long before she lifts my hand off and back onto the pillow. Then the room goes silent, and we both decide to keep it that way.

Chapter Eighteen

ThankGod I prepared a list of questions to ask the admissions officer at Longbrook Academy, because walking next to Logan on this tour, him glancing at me and Nino like some proud husband and father, playing the part like an Oscar winner, almost has me believing it, too.

I cannot talk to him like I did last night. He was so sweet coming home with those pots and pans. So generous doing up Nino’s room. So alluring in bed with what I justknowwas no clothes on.That was hard to ignore.

He listened to me right through the darkness like he always used to, wholeheartedly, with an addictive empathy. I hungered for that comfort all over again this morning, assoon as I woke up and my mind started reeling about Nino and this school again.

I can’t talk to Logan like that. I can’t go to Logan for reassurance. I can’t let him touch me with his hands or his words; one is just as strong as the other when it comes to tugging at my heartstrings. After all these years, and me really being frustrated by the man he’s become, the way he disarms me is like no other. In his presence, I’m both exposed and invincible at the same time, and if it’s not confusing enough to be still wildly turned on by the man, well, him reaching into my soul is not going to help things.

I will not fall for Logan Hunter again. Not now. Not when I know better. After years of lying men, tearstained nights, and enough streaked pillows for a lifetime, I’ve sworn off men. Certainly ones like Logan who think women are some game.

Having Nino has been the best thing to happen to me. It’s allowed me a place to house my love. Unconditional love suits me because it’s not loving that causes heartache. Things don’t ever go wrong when you’regivinglove, they go wrong when you don’t get it in return. With motherhood, Nino doesn’t have to love me back for me to feel fulfilled. I don’t hold my breath hoping he says it back every time I whisper it in his ear at night. Saying that, when I pray with my dad on the Sundays we go to mass together, I sure as heck thank God he does.

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