Page 124 of Bad Love

"Did you bring ahelmet?"

"Come on,Kendall."

Rory's standing with one hand on the bike, looking betweenus.

"Do you want to sit on it?" I ask Rory. "But you can't go anywhere until you have ahelmet."

He swings one leg over and toes it forward a few steps. Blake lifts the kickstand as I say, "In the sand. Feet on theground."

Rory proceeds to walk the thing around the tiny playground next to our building while Blake looks on withpride.

As much as I’d love to deny ever feeling the same way as Blake, we have a kid together, and apast.

I turn to Logan. “Hey. Thank you for thetext.”

“I’m guessing from your face you didn’t know he wascoming.”

I shake my head. “Can you give us fiveminutes?"

Logan shoots me a hard look but crosses to the swing set and sinks into a swing. I turn back to myex.

“I said you could cometomorrow.”

“I’m working tomorrow. You want me to leave?” he hitches a thumb toward theroad.

I really want to sayyes.

"I’m not trying to cut Rory out of your life. I’m also not going to stand by while you raise his expectations and then undercut them. If you moved back to Orange for… whatever reason, that’s on you. But I won’t try to prevent you from seeing yourson.”

Blake studies me for a moment, looking genuinely confused. “So, why’re you looking at me like I screwedup?”

“I wish you’d let me know. So we couldplan."

"Well, you can plan for next time. Your parents mentioned a talent show in a couple weeks. I'll drive up with them," hesays.

"The tickets are sold out." For once, I'm grateful forNadine.

"I can stand in the back. Now, I gottago.”

“What? I said you couldstay!”

“I know, but I can’t. I made plans with friends for dinner tonight.” He flashes the smile I used to find charming. “But I'll see you at the talent show. And Kendall? Take some good pictures of Rory with thebike.”

Before I can come up with a response, he takes off. I watch him go, wondering how I ever found him so charming I couldn’t thinkstraight.

I head to the swings and drop onto the one next toLogan.

We sit in silence for a moment before he speaks. “He’s shorter than Ifigured.”

I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out even as tears burn the backs of my eyes. My fingers grip the chains until theyhurt.

"I came to apologize for yesterday,” Logan says, his voicerough.

"You don’t have to apologize. You bought us dinner, and you weren’t eventhere."

“The money’s not thepoint.”

“No, it’s not,” I saysoftly.

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