Page 4 of Girl Going Nowhere

It’s probably a miracle I hadn’t gotten pregnant sooner. Because I was a train wreck waiting to happen, getting involved with all the wrong people and doing what the masses wanted even if it wasn’t good for me. Way more drinking than studying. Living off an occasional high that probably would have gotten me addicted to far heavier things than the molly and ecstasy I’d pop with a few of my former friends.

When my parents caught wind of how I was spending my time at school, they’d warned me they wouldn’t tolerate it. They told me if I got myself into trouble, they would only help me to a certain point.

And maybe it was the late-night reruns ofDr. PhilI’d found myself watching when Maia was too restless and finicky to sleep, but I realized far too late that I owed my parents a major apology for how carelessly I took their words. I thought I knew better—that I was young and invincible.

But you can’t outrun your actions.

They’ll always catch up to you.

When my parents found out the reason I was dropping out of college, neither of them seemed too shocked. I’m not quite sure what I expected from them. A place to stay? Help taking care of Maia? At one point, Dad had offered me my old room back. He even suggested converting the smaller guest room into a nursery. There was too big of a rift between Mom and I that made me too uncomfortable to accept it. I knew moving back home would only last so long before I permanently damaged what little relationship I had with my parents.

I’ve never kept them away from their granddaughter, no matter the circumstances of our strained relationship. They see photos of Maia regularly through social media or random texts I’ll send to my mother when Maia does something cute. Once in a while, we meet up for lunch or dinner to catch up, and more times than I like, I drop her off at their house on the days she doesn’t go to daycare. Never before getting lectured about making responsible choices, as if I’m going to skip work to go to a club and do Jell-O shots or snort something.

It’s fair, I guess. Since the day I turned eighteen, I had a bad habit of making horrible decisions that my parents had to watch from the sidelines.

I find myself staring at the little girl who’s happily munching on the assorted fruit I chopped up and put onto her favorite koala-shaped plate for dinner since she refused everything else I gave her.

Over the past few weeks, she’s realized her favorite color is red, which makes trying to get her to eat things that aren’t hard. But the guys always help me when she gets fussy, convincing her how good other food is regardless of its color. And because I’m fairly certain she’s as in love with the three men as they are with her, it never takes her long to shove whatever they’re offering into her mouth.

“You look deep in thought,” Finn muses, wearing his usual button-down and jean combo. He takes off the messenger bag that’s draped across his body and sets it on the counter, then walks over and presses a kiss to the top of Maia’s head before bending down and pecking my cheek.

His lips linger a fraction on my warm skin before moving away, offering me a tired but soft smile before he heads toward the fridge for a drink. “You okay?” he asks from over his shoulder.

I ignore the way his eyes train a little too hard on my lips and ask, “Shouldn’tIbe askingyouthat? You had your big presentation today and I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

He’d been practicing for hours, jittery over the potentially life-altering pitch he had to the CEO of the company he works for. “It went well, just like you kept telling me it would. I think I crushed it.”

I instantly beam, and Maia mimics my movements, going as far as clapping her hands.

Finn melts as he holds his palm in front of her to smack. “Thanks, Maia girl.”

She giggles at the nickname spurred from us singing The Temptation’s song “My Girl” and using her name to fill in the regular lyrics.

He pulls out the chair beside mine and drops into it, scrubbing his face. His green eyes are glazed from exhaustion and have shadows under them. “It’s going to be a couple weeks before I hear anything.Ifthey want to move forward with my design idea. It’s a long shot but…”

“You crushed it,” I remind him, bumping my shoulder against his. “The hard part is done.”

Maia picks up one of her grapes and offers it to Finn with a wide smile on her face. “Eat.”

“For me?” He plucks it from her and pops it into his mouth. She claps again, refocusing on her food and ignoring us. Finn studies me. “What’s got you looking so down?”

My lips threaten to lower at the corners, but I fight it off. I hate Maia seeing me sad. Now that she’s talking, she calls me out on it. “Just have a lot on my mind. When I saw Trevor today at work…”

Finn’s lips turn into a small scowl at the sound of my latest failed dating adventure. It felt awkward when I saw him in passing this morning, slipping another girl his number at the clinic. Things like that never used to bother me. If guys didn’t choose me, I could find other ones who easily would after a simple smile in their direction. I’d like to think I’m sensitive because it’s been far too long since I’ve dated or hooked up with anybody. It’s clearly gotten to my head.

Finn wipes the frown away in record time for the sake of the girl sitting in front of us in her highchair. “I don’t even know why you agreed to go out with him in the first place. He’s always seemed like a tool to me from what you’ve said.”

“You think all guys are tools.” Including the two others that live with us. However, he’s oddly less judgmental of Dante than he is of his own cousin.

“Trevor doesn’t deserve you,” he declares, staring solely at Maia. He fiddles with the bottle of water he snatched from the refrigerator. “I never understood that.”

My brows pinch. “What?”

His shoulders tighten before he dares to glance in my direction. “You always go after guys that you know you’ll never get anywhere with.”

I don’t do that. Do I? “That’s not true. I—”

“What about Jeremy?”

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