Page 88 of Get Me to the Starting Line

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

“Shit,” Levi repeats.

“Yeah, baby, shit is right.”

Without overthinking, I use my car’s voice control to call Paige. She picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, Lee, what’s up?”

“Can you come over and watch Levi?” I say, my brain running in two different directions.

“Sure, right now?”

“Yeah, I have to head back to the lab—I think I had a breakthrough.”

“That’s awesome! Adam and I will head over now and meet you there.”

I’m so giddy and anxious, feeling the surge of this new idea coming together. It’s going to work, I know it is. And just in time too. It’s been two weeks since Julien’s hospital visit, and it seems as though he’s on the mend.

His mobility has improved and he’s taking less pain medication. Mateo is thrilled with his progress and even says he can probably start skating again soon. I’m running out of time.

I barge into the apartment, letting Levi toddle in. He goes straight to Julien, who is bent over doing yoga in my living room.

Julien. Yoga.

Fuck me.

We haven’t talked about it once, nor have we put ourselves in the same position again. No late nights together, no dark rooms, no kissing.

No sex.

Has it stopped me from thinking about it? No, it’s gotten so much worse. I know what his body feels like on top of me, I know how his mouth moves. I know how good he is with one hand.

I know how capable he’ll be once he’s fully healed. And I’m scared shitless because I’m falling for this man.

Underneath all the desire and attraction, the irritation and frustration, seeing my son run over to Julien and jump on his back makes my stomach flip and my heart lodge in my throat.

He has quietly worked his way into our hearts, and I don’t think I could handle them breaking. But nothing I’ve done has made it possible to distance myself.

I’m screwed.

I clear my throat. “I’m heading back to the lab. I have an idea and want to work on it right away. Paige and Adam will be here soon,” I tell Julien.

Levi wiggles his way up Julien’s back, content to sit on his head. Julien releases himself from modified child’s pose, and Levi giggles as he sits up, the almost-two-year-old perched on his shoulders.

I can’t swallow.

His brows are already furrowed. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why are they coming? I can look after Levi.” He honestly sounds hurt. But Levi is turning two in a few months and he’s a handful.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. You were in the hospital a few weeks ago.” It’s the closest I’ve come to bringing up that night. If he remembers asking me to stay, he hasn’t said anything.

I know I made the right choice by leaving, but it hasn’t kept me from wondering what it would be like to sleep beside someone like Julien.

Not someone like him.Him.

---