Page 20 of The One I Love
He nods down to the snacks I have in my hand. “Why did you get those?”
I look down at my purchases then back up to him. “Because it’s a track meet and this is what I eat at sporting events? It’s the dinner of champions.”
“I know,” he says as he holds up a bag of popcorn and a box of peanut M&Ms.
He bought me snacks? That was…why did he?—?
“You didn’t have to do that.” I mumble the word so low I don’t even know if Shane heard me. I duck my head and walk to the fence, but I feel Shane on my heels. I know why he’s following me, but does he have to? Doesn’t he realize I’m not sure how to navigate this?
“How’ve you been?”
I turn and give him an incredulous look because fuck the small talk. “What are you doing here?”
My voice has a pinch of anger in it, which I do feel bad about. But why is he here? I know Rolling Hills isn’t exactly a hopping place on a Tuesday evening, but I can think of a lot better things to be doing than watching seventh and eighth graders run in a circle.
“Mariah texted me the other day asking if I would come to one of her meets. I was off duty today. I figured it was just as good of a time as any.”
“Oh.” I didn’t realize she did that. Mariah texts Shane all the time. Both of my kids do. “Good. I’m glad. Glad you could make it.”
“Me too.”
His warm smile makes me nervous all over again so Iquickly turn back to watch the meet and anxiously eat my popcorn. Though I couldn’t tell you who was running, even if it were my kid. How can I when Shane’s cologne is assaulting my senses in the best and worst way possible? I want to look at him, but I don’t. I can’t. I want to say something, but words are hard right now. And it doesn’t help that he’s wearing the leather jacket that makes him look a million times hotter than he already is. Hell, I knew Shane was hot in the jacket before the kiss. Now I’m having sex-on-motorcycle fantasies that are very new—and very confusing.
“So Mariah’s running track? That’s still weird to say.”
I hear his words, but it still takes me a few seconds to respond as I’m still thinking about motorcycle sex. “Yeah. Weird.”
I watch Mariah line up at the start, and I’m in awe of her. She looks like a seasoned pro, not someone who just started running a few months ago. She’s rotating her neck as she approaches the block and shakes out her legs before getting set. When the starter gun pops, she’s off and running. And damn…my girl is fast.
“Go Mariah! Push! Push!”
That’s not coming from me. No, it’s from Shane. All I can do is smile as I watch this man cheer for my daughter. He’s pumping his arm and clapping like he’s single-handedly going to help her win this race. I think he’s the loudest one right now. And he’s not even her dad. Except he is in all the ways it counts.
He’s here now. He shows up. She’s comfortable texting him and talking to him because he’s her constant. When she needs something I can’t help her with, it’s not her dad, my brother Jake, or her brother she looks to—it’s Shane. I’ll never forget when she was eight and about to have her one and only dance recital. She came home crying one night because the girls weregoing to be escorted onto the stage by their dads. She knew Paul wasn’t going to show up. So I asked her who she’d like instead. She didn’t hesitate. And neither did Shane. He showed up that day with a bouquet of flowers and a tie that matched her costume.
My emotions are about to spill over as I watch him cheer for her. This. This right here is why the kiss has to stay where it belongs—in the past. I might want him, or be curious about the idea of us, and maybe in a perfect world I could let myself be reckless and give into this want, but I can’t. I can’t risk the possibility this goes south. If it doesn’t work out, or if things get weird and Shane and my relationship changes, it would destroy my kids. And no, I don’t think Shane would ever cut my kids out of his life in any circumstance, but I know Luke and Mariah. They are fierce protectors when it comes to me. And I don’t want that for them. I want them to have their Uncle Shane the way they always have.
So I’m going to do what I’ve been doing for the past seven years—putting my wants aside for the sake of my children. It might suck, but it’s never steered me wrong as a parent.
Even if it was a kiss I can still feel on my lips.
“Look at her go,” he says. “Go Mariah! All the way through!”
His words snap me back to the present, where I see Mariah coming to the finish line. Holy shit, is she about to win?
“Go Mariah! Run! Go!”
I’m jumping up and down cheering as my girl crosses the finish line first. Pride rushes through me, then amusement, as she looks back in bewilderment when she realizes she won. I fumble to grab my phone, hating that I didn’t record the race while it was going on.
“Mom! Shane!” Mariah comes running over to us, her arms open. “Can you believe it! I won!”
“I know, baby,” I say, giving her a hug over the fence. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Mariah breaks our hug to move on to Shane. “Did you see? I did what you told me to do. I really concentrated on my start.”
“I did, Pipsqueak. You did awesome.”
She all but jumps over the fence into his arms, and of course he catches her. And of course, I fight back a tear as I watch the two of them.
