Late Nights & Love Lines (Single Dad Hotline #2)

12. Late-night wishes and almost kisses

12

LATE-NIGHT WISHES AND ALMOST KISSES

ROWAN

“ H ow’s your ass?” I mutter, adding the final filter to my Instagram post of a flower I found on the trail before burr-gate happened. Jackass. Of course he would bring it up.

Seren pokes her head inside my partially open door. “Ah, are you talking to someone?”

“What? No, sorry. I was talking to myself. Come in.” I soften my grumpy tone for her.

Seren stands in the doorway with her right hand holding her left elbow tightly to her body, a serious expression on her face, and the little black furball Lucky sneaks past her and jumps on my bed. Like I need any more bad luck in the bedroom.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

She nods, but I’m not convinced.

“You can always talk to me if something’s up, about anything, okay?”

Her shoulders roll forward, and she takes a seat on the floor, so I mimic her crisscross position and sit in the silence. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

Seren picks at her fingernails and chews on her lip.

“I’m trying to write a song,” she whispers.

My heart pitter-patters. I have no doubt this is what her soul needs.

“That’s amazing, Seren. How’s it going?”

She lifts one tiny eyebrow and peers up at me. “Not well,” she grumbles. “The chorus is crap and there’s something wrong with the melody that I can’t figure out.”

“Would you…do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe we can brainstorm something that will knock loose whatever creative block you have right now.”

Skepticism feels too familiar on her face, but eventually, she straightens her shoulders and stops picking at her fingers.

“You’d help me with it?”

“Yes.”

She nods, and her cheeks flush pink. Did she think I’d tell her no?

“I don’t think it’s very good,” she admits quietly.

“That’s why there are drafts for all things in life. Very few things are right the first time.”

Silence settles around us. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

“Maybe tomorrow?” she asks.

“Absolutely. I’ve been meaning to spend some time in the music room anyway. It might be time I put some of my old ghosts to bed too.”

Seren’s eyes blow wide enough for me to see white all around her irises.

“Memories can haunt like ghosts sometimes,” I explain. “The only way to exorcise them is to face them head-on.”

“There was a dance at school,” she says softly.

The sudden topic change should give me whiplash, but something tells me she’s about to face one of her ghosts too.

“Oh yeah? Want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t get to go. I had a dress. It was really pretty, and my mom said we could get my hair and nails done. She even let me get shoes Daddy would hate.”

I have a feeling I know where this is going, and my heart drops into my belly.

“What happened?” I ask gently.

“My mom ruined my life,” she says. The lack of emotion in her tone covers the room in an arctic frost.

“I see.”

Seren finally lifts her gaze to mine. “My friends didn’t want—or weren’t allowed—to go with me, and everyone was making fun of me. I had to hide in the bathroom at school sometimes.”

God, do I know how that feels.

“I’ve spent my fair share of time hiding in bathrooms, Seren. I can imagine how hard this has been on you.”

Her face morphs into a frown, and I’ll take that over sadness any day. “Why did you hide in the bathroom? You’re beautiful, and you talk back to my dad.”

My laughter is sad. “First, you’re beautiful too. It’s just hard to see that when you’re twelve sometimes. I didn’t always stick up for myself. I was homeless when I was sixteen and had to learn to be tough.”

“What?” She gasps. “Sixteen. What did you do?”

“My home wasn’t safe anymore. My stepdad was violent, and my stepsister was malicious and abusive in her own way. Being homeless felt safer than being home. But the reality is, I didn’t have much. So the kids made fun of me for showering in the locker rooms, and for wearing the same few outfits until they were in tatters. Kids can be cruel.”

“You really lived on the streets? The teachers didn’t help you?”

Her innocence makes me want to protect her at all costs.

I nod. “A few tried, but the system is sort of broken. And I didn’t really sleep on the streets. My dad had this Jeep, and I knew it had been left to me. His friend stored it in his barn until I turned sixteen, and on my sixteenth birthday, I showed up to get it.”

Her eyes are the size of saucers, so I continue with a story I’ve never told anyone. “His son was home from college, and he took me out into a field and showed me how to drive the thing. Then I went to see Pappy and Rosa. I couldn’t tell them what was happening, but he always knew when something wasn’t right. When I refused to tell them why they couldn’t write to me anymore, they helped me register the Jeep and get insurance on it, then I lived in that until I graduated. I had a really great counselor who helped me apply to college, and I got a lot of scholarships.”

“Pappy loves you so much. Why would he let you be homeless?”

“Oh, Ser. He does love me. That’s why I couldn’t tell him. I was a dumb kid who was afraid of what my family would do if they found out he was helping me.” Admitting that makes my palms sweat. “My point is, I know how hard life can be sometimes.”

“Geez. You had it a lot worse than I do.”

“Just because someone’s story sounds bad doesn’t make yours any less valid. Your feelings matter. You’re going through something really tough, and that matters. Don’t ever diminish your story or your feelings so someone else can shine, sweetheart. Use your story to empathize and make yourself stronger. That’s how you win in all of this.”

She jumps to her feet and throws herself at me. Her arms wrap around me in a vicelike hug that makes my lungs shrivel, then stop working altogether. I’m not a hugger. Pats and high fives are my comfort level, but the longer she holds on to me, the more the frayed edges of my past braid together to make something stronger than I’ve ever known.

“I want to go to the sand dance, but I don’t know how to do my hair or anything,” she admits, then pulls out of the embrace.

My arms stay awkwardly frozen in the air, almost as though I wasn’t ready for her to end the hug. But that can’t be right, so I quickly drop them to my lap.

“Well, I’m not really a girly girl, but I can do some fancy braids. And because it’s at the beach, I’m pretty sure that means it’ll be super casual.”

“You’d braid my hair for me?”

Oh, sweetheart. “Of course.”

“What do I wear? Daddy said there would be a lot of kids.” She lowers her lashes and stares at the floor. “Kids who don’t know what my mom did.”

It hits me then. She’s lonely, and the idea of making new friends, friends who haven’t heard about her history, feels like a new beginning, a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning. It’s how I felt every summer when I’d go to camp. No one there knew how shy I was, or how bad my panic attacks were. I could be whoever I wanted or needed to be, and it was such a freeing experience.

“I think it’s an excellent time to start a new chapter,” I say, peeling myself off the floor.

“You do?”

“I do. Let’s get you ready for all those kids who are about to meet their amazing new best friend.” Covertly I knock on wood for good luck because you seriously never know with kids. Sometimes they truly are little assholes.

“Okay. Will you…” She picks at her fingernails again. “Will you come with me?”

Shit. My entire body is screaming hell to the no , but one look at her little face, and I dive headfirst into the deep end, not caring that I don’t know how to swim. “Sure. I’ll go.”

She runs forward again and envelops me again. “Thank you.”

I pat her back uncomfortably, but my blood pressure settles and my mind clears in a way that feels suspiciously similar to peace. “You got it. Let’s get you ready.”

For the next thirty minutes, I help Seren with her hair, and we role-play introductions and ways to approach the topic of her family without oversharing. I explain them as tools she can use to meet whatever kids may be in attendance, and her confidence grows with each passing minute.

And then there’s a knock at my door that has my blood pressure spiking again.

“Are you okay, Rowan?” Seren asks.

I nod quickly.

“You’re turning a little pasty. Are you sure?”

“Yup. I’m good. Why don’t you get the door while I grab a sweater.” There, easy. Let her open it for her dad.

I hear the door swing open, and his voice covers the room with warmth.

“Look at you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful,” Sebastian coos.

“Rowan did it. She looks beautiful too, doesn’t she, Daddy?”

He lifts his head at the exact moment I spin around, and our gazes collide like a meteor shower. I’ve never felt chemistry so forcefully before. Whenever he’s near, it’s as though he’s thrown a lasso around my body, and no matter how hard I run, he just keeps reeling me in one inch at a time.

“She sure does, Seren,” he says, staring straight at me. “You’re both absolutely stunning.”

“Looking good, Row,” Pappy says from the doorway. Crap, I hadn’t even noticed him there.

Miles pushes through the doorway to hand his sister a small bouquet of flowers, then runs to me and hands me the other. They’re wildflowers, and they’re my favorite.

“Those are from me and Kade, but Kade kept shaking them and they’d lose all their petals, so I had to give them to you alone.”

Lowering myself to one knee, I give him a high-five. “How did you know wildflowers were my favorite?”

His smile eats up his entire face as he looks over his shoulder at his dad. “Daddy said he had a hunch.”

“A hunch, huh?” Why can’t I stop staring at this man? The right side of Sebastian’s mouth tips up into a devastating smile as I stand.

“Yup,” Miles says, walking back to his dad. “Didn’t know what a hunch was, but now I have a new word.”

“New words are good,” I say absentmindedly. Vaguely, I hear Kade skipping back and forth in the hallway.

Sebastian takes a step forward. “Wildflowers seemed…fitting.”

“Because I’m so wild?” I ask.

His eyes twinkle at my sarcasm. Sebastian slowly shakes his head. “No one is trying to tame them or make them something they’re not, but they do add beauty to the world around them when they’re allowed to thrive.”

The moment is too intense. We’re not talking about wildflowers anymore, and if he’s talking about me, I’m too flustered to process what that means. Is he saying he isn’t trying to tame me?

The butterflies in my belly morph into a pissed-off hornet’s nest.

“Come on, Seren. Help me get the boys down to the sand dance. Dad and Rowan are goin’ to meet us there,” Pappy drawls with a pleased expression on his face.

Oh, Pappy. Please don’t read too much into this. I’m temporary. The thought has always grounded me. Knowing that I’m not locked into anything, that my situation will change again soon, has always brought me peace. But right now, peace is the last thing I’m feeling. No, right now, I’m terrified that the thought of leaving is causing an emotion I haven’t allowed myself to experience in a very long time.

Regret.

“We—we’ll come with you,” I say too loudly for the enclosed space, but Pappy shoos me away and Sebastian stops my forward motion with his fingertips splayed across my chest and collarbone.

A full-body shiver courses through me from the point of contact. It’s a claiming, a branding that keeps me stock-still.

I’m not someone who can be claimed or tamed or, or?—

“Thank you,” Sebastian says in a smooth tone that makes it hard to swallow. His fingers press a rhythm into my skin. One, two, three, four, five. Then he does it again as his palm falls flush against me.

My heart thrashes wildly beneath his touch.

“For what?” I croak.

“For what you told Seren earlier. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was coming up here to make sure she had what she needed, and your door was open. I know you don’t talk about your past, maybe ever, but I appreciate that you shared something that made her feel less alone. That’s not something I could have given her.”

I shrug, but it’s hard to think with his hand still pressing into my skin.

“She’s a good kid,” I finally say when the silence begins to chafe.

“She is,” he agrees. “But you’re pretty special too.”

I’m shaking my head, but if I’m disagreeing or just trying to get my brain cells to start working again is anyone’s guess.

He’s so close that his body heat warms me from neck to shins and every time my chest heaves a breath, it pushes me harder into his palm. I nearly moan from this contact alone.

“You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you, Peach. You’ve invaded every waking hour and disrupted my dreams. You’re everywhere, and I fucking like it. A lot.”

I gulp, and he leans in painfully slowly, as though he’s giving me the chance to pull away. Oh God, I’m going to hell because I want him to kiss me. I want him to touch me in a way I’ve never allowed before, and I’m a horrible person because I’m only capable of hurting him in the end.

When his lips hover above mine, the deafening sound of my phone breaks us apart like two virgins caught by their parents.

“That’s, uh.” My fingers press to my lips. The ghost of his minty breath still lingers there, and I press harder, holding the essence of his kiss to my mouth. Lowering my fingers, his gaze darkens. “That’s the hotline. I, uh, I have to get it.”

I practically sprint across the room and retrieve my phone from the nightstand.

“Single Dad Hotline, I’m your helper, how can I help you?” I answer shakily.

“Rowan, my sister’s trying to give me a heart attack. We’re supposed to leave for camp tomorrow, but she’s locked herself in her room and refuses to pack. She says she’s too old for a nanny and won’t come out. I told you I should’ve removed her damn door.”

Freaking Thane. He might be the biggest pain in the ass, but he also just saved my ass from doing something monumentally stupid.

“Thane, calm down.” I almost burst out laughing. Thane isn’t the one who sounds like they need to calm down. He’s as monotone as ever while I’m a hyperventilating fool.

Sebastian waves his hand to get my attention and motions toward the door. I nod, grateful that he’s leaving, but also almost sad that he is.

I’m leaving, I remind myself. I always leave. It’s how it is and will always be. I’m the runaway.

The reminders aren’t doing anything to ease the unfamiliar sensations filling my body and mind though. If anything, they’re causing more thunderous storms to rage below the surface, searching for a place to touch down.

“Calm down,” Thane mocks while Sebastian silently closes my door. The sound of it clicking sets off a ricochet of pain I try to ignore because it’s a terrible freaking sign.

Absolutely no more late-night wishes or almost kisses. Girls like me have no place wishing for anything but survival.