Page 84 of Hot Shot

“Do you trust me, Cass?”

She searches my eyes. “You know I do.”

“Then trust me on this. I won’t let anything happen to any of us.”

I see her relax with my own eyes, the corners of her lips softening, then curling. God damn, the desperation I feel for her is eating me alive, gnawing on my heart, my bones.

“Thank you,” she says softly, and I kiss her because I can. I kiss her so I won’t say something I shouldn’t.

She lets me because she wants me.

Suddenly, I cannot fucking stand the fact that we both want a thing that she doesn’t think we can have. But I’ll be goddamned if I give up.

Cricket bounds into us, wrapping her arms around our thighs.

Laughing, Cass strokes the curve of her head, and I watch them with deep, heavy longing.

“Well, bug, we should get going.”

Instantly, Cricket is whining.

“I know, I know, but I don’t know if your grandparents are going to show up early and I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

She’s still pouting.

“How about I let you pick the song on the way home?”

At that, Cricket perks up. “Anything I want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Okay!”

I scoop her up, and she grabs me around the neck. “Miss you already, baby girl.”

“Miss you too, Daddy.” When her feet are on the ground, she takes Cass’s hand. “See you tomorrow!” she calls on her way to the truck.

I wave. Cass and I share a look, and she waves too.

But that ache in my chest never leaves me, even when they do.

CHAPTER 32

HOLDUP—WAIT

CASS

Ifeel lighter after seeing Wilder, and Cricket does too—she’s back to her chitterchattery self through the short ride home. It isn’t long before Patty and Paul come to pick her up, which annoys me…more often than not, they show up when they want to, disrupting any plans we have. And when we bring it up, they smile and blow us off and say they forgot to call.

It would be fine, if they tried. But besides being impolite, it smacks of disrespect, as if they don’t owe us any explanation. Wilder doesn’t want to start shit with them, and he has a good point—it’s very clearly unintentional, just parents of a certain generation being themselves. So I keep my opinions to myself. Soon it won’t matter anyway. For now, we have to keep them happy for fear they decide to fight us for custody. I don’t think they would at this point, but why risk it?

So we smile back and wave goodbye and grumble about it when they leave.

Today, the Wilsons and I have a brief conversation about everything with Avery and make plans for meeting at the mustertomorrow. By four thirty, she’s gone, and I’m alone. At first, it’s not so bad—I work on getting caught up on grading, but after the emotional expense of arguing with Avery’s mom and fielding Cricket’s admissions, I’m fried.

When Jessa texts me, it’s decided—she’s coming over. And when Shelby texts after that, she’s coming over too. By the time I scrounge a charcuterie together, they’re walking in the side door and pouring drinks, and we end up sprawled across the living room.

Hours later, we’ve barely moved.

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