Page 61 of Girl Going Nowhere

“Traitor,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest when I see her settle into him with big doe eyes beaming in his direction.

“She can’t deny the charm I exude,” he teases me, turning to my daughter with a playfully cocky smile. “Right, Maia girl?”

Her little giggle says it all. If she’s anything like me when she’s older, I’m in serious trouble. Because I understand well how good it feels to have men like Brodie pay attention to me.

Especially when he asks, “Want to help me eat your favorite for dinner?”

Maia’s face lights up. “Pizza?”

The crestfallen look on my roommate’s face tells me it isn’t pizza he’s got ready in the kitchen. “Uh, your second favorite then.”

Her thinking face scrunches up her nose. “Nuggets.”

The kitchen smells like marinara sauce, so I decide to help Brodie out. “You know what I think Brodie made for us? Spaghetti! He probably even got the cat shaped pasta again since you liked that so much last time.”

Brodie quickly comes to his own defense. “It was on sale.”

I highly doubt the organic specialty pasta shaped like cats that you can only find in one store in a forty-mile radius was on sale. It’s cute he wants me to believe he didn’t spend a stupid amount of money simply to make my three-year-old happy.

And because the little traitor in his arms knows how to get her way, she taps her chin like she has to think about the food he’s offering her before eventually nodding. “Okay.”

I’m sure he would have given her something different if she didn’t want whatever he’s prepared because he’s a softie at heart. I’ve asked him and Finn not to because it gets hard fighting her when she’s being stubborn about the food I want her to eat. Some nights it’s easier to let her win, though.

Something I don’t tell my mother because I don’t want to get a forty-five-minute lecture on how I need to be better at disciplining my child.

I’ll give my mom credit. She’s never brought up the magazine articles since our one-on-one. I think she’s just as terrified of losing her granddaughter as I am. Even though Sabrina has insisted that won’t happen, it’s a lingering thought in the back of my mind.

“They’ve kept it hidden this long,” Sabrina reassures me over the phone. “They’re going to want to sweep this under the rug as quickly as possible and never speak of it again. I’ve worked on similar situations with much smaller celebrities, but it’s all the same.”

All I can hope is that she’s right.

When we walk into the kitchen, Maia, still tucked against Brodie, says, “We gots flowers, Mama.”

My eyebrows go up. “Who got flowers?”

She points at the counter, where a regular glass full of water and white daisies rests.

Before I can ask, Brodie says, “I saw them on my way home from work and picked a few. Figured Maia girl would like them. It’s not a big deal.”

Slowly, my focus goes from the flowers delicately placed in the glass to the man placing my daughter in her highchair. “You told me once that the only thing you give girls is a good time.”

I think his exact words were,“I’m a straight shooter. None of that romance crap. The only thing I give women are orgasms.”

At the time, I laughed at his bluntness. It seemed like a fitting statement from him. Something I could picture. Not all guys are the hearts and flowers type, and I respect it.

Brodie scratches the column of his throat before sheepishly looking at me. “Well, Maia is different.”

That’s all he says before getting the table set for dinner and dropping the conversation. It doesn’t stop me from periodically looking at the flowers throughout the meal or gawking at the man who picked them.

Hours later, when Maia is fed, bathed, and fast asleep, I walk into the living room where Brodie is flipping through one of the streaming services to find something. He instantly opens his arm for me, which I happily slide into like he usually does when we watch TV together.

“Where are Finn and Dante?”

Brodie scans one of the movie summaries before continuing to flip for something better. “Last I knew, Dante was in Philly visiting his brother. He didn’t mention anything about coming home tonight. Finn was supposedly going out with some people from work.”

I’m surprised Finn didn’t tell me that when we saw each other this morning. I asked what his plans were for the night because we still haven’t finished that Waco documentary. “Is Finn mad at me?”

Brodie’s arm tightens around my shoulders in a half hug. “Nah. He’s got a lot on his mind. I’ve been poking the bear a bit which hasn’t helped.”

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