Page 54 of Perfect Playbook

After our hour-long tour of a sprawling campus, the admissions officer, Kaylin, has done an amazing job catering to my and Logan’s questions, but mostly speaks directly to Antonio. This is something I appreciate and watch with what is probably an unhealthy attachment.

Kaylin is about my age, though doesn’t have a single white hair or line on her face. I only feel she is the same agedue to maturity. She’s dressed elegantly in a color-block sheath dress that fits her slender frame like a glove. It’s not revealing, but her figure was made for a dress like that, and every time we follow her up a staircase, I glance over to see if Logan notices how nicely her ass sways in it.

He doesn’t. All he has eyes for today is Antonio and this amazing school which, quite frankly, is an academic, sports, music, and artistic paradise. Who even knew an academy like this existed? It’s as nice as our college was.

Walking around the labyrinth of paths, through brick buildings and quads, around a hushed library of studious youth… It brings back memories. When I catch a glimpse of Logan eyeing some ivy or running his finger along an etching in a bench, I see that youthful, sexy jock of mine all over again and the ache inside returns. It’s a dull throb that visits me every so often and wishes he was the same guy I once knew. Where did he go? Did he ever really exist in the first place?

Logan and I walked for hours sometimes, and he’d always stop to notice anything out of place. He’d carry my backpack. He’d make me bend down to see ladybugs on top of each other and ask if they were having sex. God, he made me laugh like nobody else.

I put that all away because it was too painful to keep it out in the daylight. But I broke the airtight seal on our past by confiding in him last night. I should have kept my feelings to myself. Lord knows I’m capable. I passed plenty of years, alone in my bed at night, worrying about my son… I don’t need Logan’s comfort.But I wanted it.

I woke up this morning facing the door away from him, determined to keep said distance, but when I sat up, a whole other feeling tugged at my insides. There he was, dawn slipping through the curtains casting an ethereal veil on his bareskin. He was still sleeping, buck naked on his stomach, steely glutes of a Greek god and a back so broad with skin delicious and inviting. The man isn’t hot. He’s beautiful. Sexy. There are no words really for a man like Logan, but I can say, he’s a rare specimen and I could not take my eyes off him as I sat there staring, my heart racing like someone about to be caught doing something downright sinful.

I snuck off to the bathroom, managing not to wake him, and stared at myself in the mirror for a good five minutes. I told myself not to, but the next thing I knew I was touching myself in the shower to relieve the wanting between my thighs. Afterward, I argued with the woman berating me in the mirror that it helped tone down the tension I was having over this Longbrook tour. She didn’t believe a goddamn word, and eventually, my reflection simply shrugged. I’m only a woman after all.

And so is Kaylin, who I can tell is trying very, very hard not to care who Logan is or what he looks like, but I’ve seen the exact shade of casual she’s trying to portray so many times in college. I know she wishes she could just have a good hard stare. I know she’s going to go home and tell her friends about it and name drop for life. Goddamn it.

I’m still jealous.

Kaylin brings us full circle, the tour stopping where we started in front of the dean’s building. “So now that you’ve seen the labs, art room, gym, and music building, Antonio, which do you like best?”

“The room with the Bunsen burners is cool.” He takes my hand. “But I don’t think my mom will want me playing with fire.”

I bite my lip. “Not especially.”

“You have to get a ‘fire license.’” She makes air quotations, “to use the Bunsen burners, and that’s not alloweduntil seventh grade. So there’s time…” Her words trail off as she comes to the same realization I do.

He’ll be six years old when he’s allowed to use combustible gas.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks Nino, dropping the subject because it’s too complicated to broach in the next five minutes.

Nino puts his finger on his cheek to think about it. “Do you have a playground?”

My stomach flips. Yes, Nino loves learning. Yes, his true potential is likely to solve cerebral problems rather than practical ones like a rancher or a lumberjack. Yes, I want to accelerate his growth, have staff around who actually know what quantum means when he asks and give him a chance to save the planet.

But he’s still just a kid. Much as the gym we saw was fully equipped with state-of-the-art rowing machines and squash courts (a sport I forgot existed until now), all my little boy wants is to learn new things and climb around on a jungle gym in between classes.

Kaylin laughs lightly, and I’m not sure if that’s her answer or she’s thinking of one.

I take Nino’s question and run with it. “When Antonio isn’t in class, how will he be cared for? Every kid needs downtime during a school day, and being five, he only just started school. I’m not sure I’d count lunch hour as downtime for a five-year-old and…” I say one word that encompasses my biggest concern of all. “Friends?”

Kaylin flicks her gaze between me and Logan with an empathetic expression. “Mr. and Mrs. Hunter…”

I don’t correct her that I’m still Mendez… Mrs. Mendez? Am I a Mrs. if I still have my last name?

“… a gift like Antonio’s doesn’t come to this campus every day. In fact, we’ve never had a child working beyond two additional grade levels. I think this is going to be a learning experience for all of us. But we have hired a new support staff with a degree in child psychology whose sole purpose is to support Antonio. We have a peer-to-peer support program that will ensure Antonio always has a student dedicated to listening; even if they’re not his age, they’re also not an adult. I think we need to observe Antonio’s needs as he grows and adjust to them accordingly. So what I can tell you is that Longbrook is very committed to supporting your son. It would be an honor to have him here and graduate him as an alum.”

Nino taps Kaylin’s hand. “You didn’t answer the question about the playground.”

“Sorry, Antonio. Of course. There isn’t a playground on campus, but we have trees to climb in, and if a jungle gym is of interest, Mrs. Hansen, your staff support, could drive you to a local park during break times, if your parents give permission.”

Parents.

She sells it hard. “You could also have swimming lessons, tennis lessons, soccer, baseball, paint in the art room… we have lots of coaches here who would love to introduce you to a new sport and can offer one-on-one lessons. Or teach you a new instrument? We’ll make sure you have lots of fun. Work hard, play hard.” She punches her fist in the air.

Logan smirks. “Don’t tell me that’s your school motto?”

Kaylin tries not to totally ogle Logan, so she answers facing me as if I asked the question. “It’s not our motto, no. But I think we can all agree it would be a good one.”

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