Page 62 of Protect

I just about came and you hardly touched me?

I can’t get close to you because I feel too much?

I have to go be a mom now?

He slides his hand down my forearm and squeezes just once, before I practically run out the door to my car like a kid sneaking home after curfew. As I back out of the driveway I go through everything he told me, and although it definitely changes my view on the past, I just need a hot minute to think.

I have Hollie to consider and I know the life of a hotshot. I know how quickly he could be hurt again—or worse. Am I really prepared to take that on? The closer I get to home, the less I know the answer.

“I am so sorry,” I say to my mom as I come in the door. Hollie is running to me with a happy smile on her face, jumping into my arms like nothing happened, she clearly feels fine now.

My mom and dad are in the middle of my living room floor, puzzles and Guess Who? spread out like they were mid game, andThe Lion Kingplays on the TV.

“Don’t apologize, honey. Where were you, anyway?”

“With…Teddy. I had to help her with something,” I lie. I’m just a big fat liar today, apparently.

My mom takes one look at me and narrows her eyes. Yep, she knows I’m full of shit.

“You two are getting a lot closer, aren’t you?” my dad asks, wearing a trusting grin. He isn’t as in tune with my lying face.

“Yeah, we get along really well,” I say, tidying up the shoes at the front door.

I breeze past my mom not wanting to meet her eyes.

I keep myself busy by tidying up while they finish their game with Hollie.

I take Hollie and give her a bath when they’re finished with their game, I just want a few minutes alone with her to ask her why she wanted to come home. She tells me the same thing she tells me every time. ‘She missed me’ and I know as I help her into her pajamas that this is her way of being cautious with Troy.She doesn’t know him well enough to feel comfortable with him anymore. He isn't her safe space. I tell her it’s okay and Daddy will come back and see her very soon. When I come back out into the living room my parents are reorganizing Hollie’s puzzle shelf. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without them.

Hollie runs to her room from the bathroom to pick out all of her stuffies to bring out to our snack party. I let her take her time and make my way back to the living room carrying her favorite pig. But when I get there I stop dead. I blink to make sure that I’m not imagining Rowan sitting on my couch talking to my dad. I drop Hollie’s Power Piggy on the floor.

My dad takes one look at my face and grins.

“Don’t blame Teddy here. Apparently,hethought you’d be on your own, Vivi,” he chuckles as Rowan looks at me with nothing but apology and confusion on his gorgeous face. Until his eyes skim over me, taking in my outfit, then his face turns almost smug because I’m wearing black leggings, I’ve tossed my hair up into a big bun, and I’m wearinghisSeahawks sweater. The one he gave me that night on the beach, the one I never gave back, the one I still wear all the time. The one I’ve kept for ten years. And then he smirks.

Well, shit.

I open my mouth to speak but don’t really have any words before Hollie’s singing and pitter patter fills the room, her little slippers thwap against the hardwood floor. She slows as she sees Rowan sitting on the couch. He’s large and intimidating, taking up a cushion and a half sitting beside my dad. Hollie stops beside me and ducks behind my thigh, picking up her pig, then reaching up to grab my hand, she tugs. I look down at her questioning eyes and bend down so she can whisper into my ear.

“Who is that?” she asks in a soft little whisper.

Here goes nothing.

I pick her up and rest her on my hip, whispering back. “That’s my friend, Rowan. He was very good friends with Uncle Jacob,” I add. My eyes meet his.

“Rowan, this is my Hollie.”

Rowan leans forward and looks at Hollie with an open, honest gaze.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hollie, I like that your slippers have French fries on them,” he says.

“French fries are my favorite,” Hollie says, her eyes immediately move to the framed photo of me and Jacob on the fireplace mantel. Hollie is no stranger to Jacob’s memory. We talk about him all the time.

“Mine too,” he says with such a sincere smile that it melts my insides.

Hollie leans her head on my shoulder and takes in the sight of Rowan, he wears a black T-shirt and shorts, so the white gauze and tape is apparent, peeking out from his sleeve and on part of his thigh.

“Are you a superhero too?” she asks, which makes Rowan chuckle.

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