Page 47 of Wildest Dreams

“How was it?” Cal ignored our back-and-forth.

I calmed down a little. Cal didn’t know Kieran was gay. No one did other than me. And the fact that he trusted me with his most sensitive secret did make me feel instinctively closer to him.

I told her Tucker appeared extra douchey and aggressive, with a touch of sorry. That it was hard to get a vibe off him because of all the adrenaline rushing through my veins. I confessed I told him Rhyland and I were engaged. That drew a chuckle out of my BFF.

“What are you going to do if he really does end up being a part of Gravity’s life? He’s going to find out the truth sooner or later.”

I waved her off. “I’ll figure something out.” But the truth was, subconsciously, I didn’t believe Tucker would be present in Grav’s life. He’d always been incredibly selfish, to the point of narcissism. “Still mad at you, Kier.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “If I told you he was in New York and wanted to see his kid, what would you do?”

“Laugh and tell you to fuck off,” I offered naturally.

“I rest my case.” He opened his arms.

“Kieran, he cheated and abandoned me an—”

“I know.” Kieran cut me off. “I’m not discarding all that. He’s a ghoul who deserves every bad thing that’s ever happened to him, and I’m sure the worst is yet to come. This is not me defending his ass. All I’m saying is it’s not just you in the picture.You have to think about Gravity, on the off chance he might’ve changed. You owe it to her to at least try. She can’t advocate for herself.”

Cal was quiet beside him. I knew she agreed with him. And I hated that I did too. I would never forgive Tucker for what he’d done to me, but I couldn’t deny Gravity a healthy father if he wanted to be a part of her life. As long as he behaved like an adult and not a little bitch like last time, of course.

“May I remind you that he also owes you, like, a trillion dollars in child support?” Cal chimed in righteously. “You can maim him with some legal shit while he reconnects with Grav. It’ll be pretty satisfying, I’m sure.”

“I’m not interested in his money.” I flung myself over the couch, grabbing the remote. After being judged, talked about, and ridiculed in the small town of Staindrop for having a child out of wedlock with the asshole who had an affair behind my back, I wanted to prove to people—and to myself—that I could do it on my own. “And it doesn’t look like he has much anyway. I just want him to be a good dad or to disappear again.”

Not that I knew what a good dad might look like. Mine was a total waste of environmental resources.

I finished the call with Cal and Kieran and binge-watched a few more episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. Something about that show soothed my soul, and I had the suspicion it was nothing to do with the hot doctors and the never-ending drama.

When Grav woke up, I decided to do something fun with her ahead of my shift at the Alchemist. Tire her out so Rhyland wouldn’t have to drain her battery with walks, activities, and exercise. I took her to the playground across the road, and we made homemade pizza together. Grav wanted to experiment, so we tossed a ton of toppings on—pepperoni, bell peppers, onion, olives, and pineapple.

“Something smells good.” Rhyland swaggered into my apartment in the afternoon without knocking—again—using the spare key Row had given him. I couldn’t even be mad. Rhy was saving my ass on a daily basis and babysitting Grav even though I knew he didn’t like children and had much better things to do with his time.

“We making a pizza!” Grav announced adorably from her stool, her face decorated with tomato-sauce stains and flour. “I want to add a cookiecumber.”

“A what?” he asked, alarmed.

“A cucumber,” I corrected.

“Nah, baby doll. That pizza smells just fine the way it i—” He sauntered over to us, peering at the pizza I was now slicing. “What in the fuck is this?”

“Potty word!” Gravity announced.

“Dang it all to hell.” He fished for his wallet in his front pocket, tossing a five-dollar bill in her general direction. “This time, I brought cash. I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

I stifled a laugh.

“Listen, little stinker, you can’t go around putting pineapple on pizza like that.” He crouched down to her eye level. “If you’re a psychopath, that’s fine, but you need to hide it.”

Gravity batted her lashes and grinned at him, clearly delighted to see him.

Ugh, girl, same.

My stomach dipped and churned when his shoulder brushed my own as he lodged himself between us, peering at our dish more closely. “Listen, kid, pineapple is only good for one thing. Wanna know what it is?”

My daughter peered at him, soft and curious and trusting, and I vowed to never ruin this in her—the ability to trust-fall into people and actually believe they’d catch you.

“To throw in the garbage,” Rhyland finished, plucking the hot slices of pineapple from the pizza and flinging them into the sink.

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