Page 6 of Just Our Secret

You would think she was asking to be considerate, since two fifteen was later than the one she’d moved. But really, the bitch was totally being snippy. Regardless, she was fixing my problem, so I gave her a tight smile. “That will be fine, thank you.”

“Great. One second.” She tapped around on her keyboard and then reached over and picked up the paper she’d just printed, handing it to me. “Here’s your new schedule.”

“Thanks again,” I replied, turning away without another word.

Okay, cool. Mission accomplished. Now, instead of rushing to school after dropping off Liam, I would be rushing out of school to pick him up on time. But at least this way maybe I could sit in the back and slip out five minutes early if needed, whereas walking in late every time would’ve likely made me look bad eventually.

When I left the registrar’s office, I made a beeline for the coffee shop so I could get that unexpected—but totally welcome—cup of coffee and try to turn my mood around. But after a dumb freshman guy on a skateboard made the whole thing spill down my white sweater (and I didn’t have anything to change into), I spent the rest of the day feeling absolutely, one hundred percent in over my head.

I should have just done the rest of my schooling online like my parents encouraged me to do. There was no earthly reason for me to be trying to balance full-time, on-campus, student life while also raising a four-year-old and learning to live on my own for the first time. Why did I do this to myself? Besides, I’d never really been a people person anyway. So why had I even wanted to interact with all of the other students and risk being treated differently because of my status as a young mom? That wouldn’t happen online.

And it was with those thoughts that I opened the door and stepped into my new lecture class with Dr. Pressman, stained white sweater and all, feeling like a fool. And then my eyes locked on Wade’s from where he sat in the back row, and I knew this day had officially hit an all-time low.

FOUR

WADE

Andi looked like hell.

Still stupidly beautiful, deadly to me, but also like hell.

Her sweater had what looked like a huge coffee stain all down the front of it, and her face was somehow both pale and flushed—like she’d gotten sick and then had a fever. Even so, I waved her over, and she ducked her head and slumped into the seat next to me.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were in this class,” I said, fully aware I shouldn’t comment on her appearance.

“Yep. My schedule has gone to hell, and I’m going to have to run out of here to get Liam on time.” She unzipped her bag with a jolt and pulled out a notebook.

“I thought he got out at three?”

She exhaled slowly, then tucked some of that golden-brown hair behind her ear. “Yeah, he does. But by the time I get there and wait in the line, or wait to park, I’ll likely be late. It’s insane, but such are the delightful predicaments of life as a parent. Just wait until you get to experience the glories of the car line.”

Her comments had enough edge to tell me she was struggling. Andi was generally unflappable. Not that she didn’t get upset, but she didn’t complain, and she didn’t get chatty like this about mom stuff. Sometimes it drove me nuts that she didn’t seem to have a release valve for it, but she did. I knew she did. Her mom was great, and she and Connor were tight. But I wondered if she had that now that she’d moved away.

I resisted the urge to put a hand on her back and soothe her, though I generally felt drawn to her physically at all times. Jacked up sweater, scraggly hair, and weird vibe included. “What can I do?”

“What—uh. I don’t know. I just need time to get my crap together.” She took a huge inhale and let it out slowly. “Maybe Connor can help with pick up Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

I snapped and pointed at her. “Yes, I think he can. I’m pretty sure his long days are Monday-Wednesday. Ask him. And if not, maybe we can trade off if you really have to leave early. I’ll go Thursdays, you go Tuesdays, or….” I trailed off once I registered her face. Her brows knit together and her mouth—a fucking perfect mouth, for the record—dropped open a half inch. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to seem like I was trying to solve your problems. I can listen and not prescribe answers. I swear. I’ll stop talking now.” I tucked my hands between my legs and tried to shrink up.

I’d been scolded by my little sister, who’d recently turned fifteen, about how I always tried to solve her problem instead of just listening. And I’d done exactly that with Andi.

“No, that’s not—I wasn’t mad. I’m—” she cleared her throat, and if I didn’t know her better, I might’ve thought her eyes got a little shiny. “I’m grateful you’d suggest that. I don’t know why, but I didn’t even think of asking Connor. Liam would be so excited if that worked out.”

She didn’t mention my taking a turn, but I wouldn’t pout about that. As long as she wasn’t mad I’d played doctor and prescribed a solution, I’d take it. “It’ll work out. We’ll figure it out.”

Her answering smile was small, but directed right at me, it had the usual effect. My chest twisted, like someone ringing out a towel. Tight, tight, tighter, until all of my defenses dribbled out.

Damn, I had it bad for her, and it was a complete fucking tragedy. Normally I kept it under wraps, but here it was jack-in-the-boxing out and punching me in the face. Why hadn’t I been able to feel this way, even a fraction of this, for any of the women I’d dated in the last three years?

“Thanks. It’s just… for some reason, I’m always surprised when people judge me for having a kid. Like, shouldn’t I be used to it by now?”

I straightened. “Wait, who’s judging you for Liam? What?”

Her cheeks heated. “Anyone I’ve mentioned it to. A few girls I talked with in class yesterday, and then even the registrar this morning. It’s like I’m less than them because I’ve got a child.”

“Fuck them, they’re—”

“Shhh. Wade! You’re too loud.” Her sharp whisper brought me back in line.

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