Page 45 of Hard To Leave

She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her eyes turned serious as she played with the ends of my hair. “Seriously, though. I think he liked you more than the ball.”

“The feeling is mutual. He’s a great kid. He’s easygoing and funny, reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger.”

That earned me a very un-lady-like snort. “That is not how I pictured you at all as a child.”

My hands stilled on her shoulder. “Oh, really, and how exactly do you picture me?”

She sat up, working her tongue around in her cheek, seeming to think it over. “I pictured you like a little rebel. Always on the go, always looking for an adventure. Pushing your boundaries, but charming the pants or skirts off any female who came into contact with you.”

A laugh rumbled from my chest. “If we were talking teenage years, you would be spot on. However, when I was younger, I was quiet and reserved.”

She seemed surprised by that. “Really?”

“When kids were doing summer camps and sleepovers, I was spending my time traveling back and forth between here and New York. As I got older, my dad sensed that I needed a little bit more freedom, so we had an agreement. I had to work my ass off for the first six weeks of summer, helping him with the business, but the rest of the time was mine. I had a rotation of buddies that I used to hang out with, and when your parents are loaded, and you’ve got nothing but time on your hands, there isn’t much to do other than to go find trouble.”

She studied me long and hard. “Were you ever resentful toward your parents because you had to split your time between places? I’m sure that wasn’t easy growing up.”

That was a tough question because I lived a very privileged life. I knew I had it better than most. So, in some regards, I allowed myself to believe that I had no right to complain. But there were many times when it got lonely. “I guess when I was younger it felt like I was missing out on the little things that families did together, but as I got older, I started to appreciate all the things that I had.”

She took a slow sip of her wine and looked away from me, clearly conflicted. “Sometimes I wonder if Tanner will grow up to resent me.” She shifted nervously on the couch, and I sat up straighter so I could focus on her. She averted her eyes away again. “He used to ask about his dad all the time when he was younger, but he hasn’t asked in a while. I just worry that not having a father figure in his life will hurt him in the long run.”

I cleared my throat. I didn’t know anything about being a parent. There was no advice I could give her. Nothing I could say to make her feel better. I thought about my own father and the impact he had on my life. Even though I worshipped him, I wasn’t sure if he would be the perfect example of what Tanner needed in his life.

Ever since she told me that Tanner was the result of a one-night stand, I’ve been curious to know more. She never told me the full story of what went down, although I got the impression that it was more than she has let on.

I cupped her cheek, feeling discomfort sweep up my spine. “Have you ever thought more about trying to find his father?”

She looked back at me, while absently rubbing her thumb over her hand. The room went quiet. I wanted to reach out and soothe her and find out what was going on in her head.

“No. I haven’t.”

Something was off in her voice, but I didn’t want to push the subject. Frankly, given that all the parenting experience I had couldn’t fill the first page of a matchbook, I didn’t think it was my place to do so.

She stood and wandered into the kitchen. I didn’t like the distance she was putting between us, so I stood and followed her. She seemed uncomfortable as I stared at her back and searched for the right words.

I leaned up against the wall and folded my arms across my chest. “Chloe, what’s going on?”

Her hands stilled on the faucet as she rinsed out her wineglass. She grabbed a towel off the counter and wiped her hands. “I’m sorry. I just don’t like talking about Tanner’s dad. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

I was so confused, and I had a million questions on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I stayed silent and decided not press her any further.

When she turned to face me, she kept her eyes on the ground.

“C’mere.” I reached out my arm and pulled her toward me. I ran a comforting hand through her hair, hoping to ease whatever worries she had. I wanted her to feel safe in my arms.

She tipped her head back and flashed me that beautiful smile. The one that made me forget about everything else. “I don’t deserve you.”

My head dipped into the crook of her neck. “Yes, you do.” I pulled her mouth to mine and kissed her tenderly, without urgency. “And for the record,” I stared into her eyes, “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

She chuckled and roamed her hands up and down my arms. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

I bit down on her bottom lip and watched the heat spread up into her face. “Is Tanner asleep yet?”

She steadied her hands on my chest and gave me a knowing grin. “Let me check.”

I plowed my hands through my hair like a goddamned bulldozer. My dick was straining against the fabric of my pants to the point where I thought it might bust loose. I needed a release—a real one. I was sick of using my hand. Tonight, I was craving the real thing.

Chloe appeared in the doorway with a smile. I took that as a good sign. My legs closed the distance between us in seconds. As soon as I reached her, I picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. She was about to find out exactly how much I missed her.

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