Page 36 of Riptide

“I think so. Might have to bring little lady too.”

“Quinn would love that. You know she adores her.” She turns to me. “You should come too, Finn.”

Daphne laughs, loudly, and then when I turn to her, she snaps her mouth closed. “Ha, oh sorry, I just can’t imagine you enjoying that. You hated stuff like that growing up.”

I cross my arms over my chest, looking down at my sister. “People can change.” Then I tell Indie, “But, I'm happy to babysit so Daph can go.”

She smiles again, another rarity, and nods to me. “I’ll get these going. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Lifesaver.” Daphne offers her a grateful smile before stepping aside so we can wait. “Would you really want to come to scrapbook club?”

“I have time on my hands, Daph. Time I need to fill, so maybe? I don't know.” I don’t mention that I’d rather have my hands full of a certain math professor of mine instead.

Rosie squirms again, and I take her from my sister as a distraction. “Think she’s gonna make it until the drinks are ready?”

Daphne snorts. “Absolutely not. Start warming those vocal chords, Uncle Finny.”

And just as she says it, the bell over the door jingles, and someone steps up behind us in the small shop.

“Oh! Good morning, Professor Jones,” Daphne says.

The name freezes my entire body, like someone’s yanked the emergency brake in my brain.

No. No, no, no, not here. Not now.

I force myself to turn, and sure enough, Foxx stands right behind us, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, looking just as put together and ridiculously attractive as ever. He’s trimmed his beard a little and maybe his hair? God, he looks hot. His sharp gaze flicks first to Daphne, then to me, then to Rosie. Then ping-pongs around all three of us. His expression shifts, his usually composed demeanor cracking just enough for me to see the surprise, the quick math he’s doing in his head. His mouth parts slightly before he presses his lips together like he’s trying to keep himself in check.

“I— Good morning,” Foxx says, voice slightly off. He glances between the three of us again.

Daphne, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, tickles Rosie’s chin in my arms. “Just fueling up before class. This one was up all night,” she says, yawning dramatically, even though she doesn’t have caffeine because of feeding Rosie, but I don’t even comment. I’m too lost, trying to read Foxx’s mind. He doesn’t respond to her right away. His gaze is still locked on Rosie, and I think I know exactly what he’s thinking, and my stomach plummets.

I open my mouth, ready to cut him off before he makes the assumption I can already see forming in real time, but the wordswon’t form. Foxx looks at me, a crease wrinkling his eyebrows. “I… I didn’t realize you…” He gestures weakly at Rosie and Daphne, his face dropping a few shades in color.

My throat dries. Shit.

“It’s not—” I start, but he’s already nodding stiffly.

“No,” he says, voice clipped. “Right. That…makes sense.” His gaze flicks back to Rosie for the briefest second, then away, like it stings.

There’s something else there, too. Something almost wounded.

“Foxx, wait—” I try again, stepping forward, but he’s already moving.

“I should go.” His hand scrapes over the back of his neck, his whole body wound tight as he backs away. “Sorry, I—didn’t, I’m gonna, yeah.” Pointing over his shoulder awkwardly, he turns and bolts out the door, gone before I can so much as blink.

I stand there, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“What the actual hell was that? And who is Foxx?” Daphne asks, turning to me with a blank look. Yeah, what the hell was that? “Did I just hallucinate, or did my math professor flee the scene like we were about to hand him a paternity test?”

I groan, rubbing a hand down my face. “It’s…complicated.”

She gives me a skeptical look. “Complicated how?”

Rosie lets out a small whimper, like she, too, wants to know why I just let that conversation implode. I’m not even sure myself.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. “I’ll explain later. You have to get to class.”

Daphne lowers her voice nearer to me. “Finn, I know that look. Tell me you haven’t slept with my professor?”

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