"So are you." I mean it. She’s got Seth’s eyes and bone structure softened into something younger and entirely her own. "Take your time."
“Be right back!” she chirps then disappears back upstairs and I am once again alone in the doorway with Seth, who is lookingat everything except me—the street, the trees, the lawn, the sky. His jaw is ticking, and I know he’s not happy about this arrangement.
I take a breath. "Look. I know I owe you an apology and I want to give you a real one. I should have told you who I was two nights ago the moment I recognized you. I panicked when I saw you at the restaurant and I made the wrong call and I'm sorry for that."
His arms fold across his chest and I can’t help but look at his biceps. They’re huge.
"What part?"
"What?"
"What part are you apologizing for?" It's not quite a question. "The part where you recognized me on Halloween and said nothing. Or the part where you already knew you were going to be my daughter's nanny, and said nothing in the gym?"
I shake my head. “I didn’t recognize you Halloween night. Yes, I assumed you were a player for the Mayhem, but I didn’t know who you were.” I take a deep breath. "And when I saw you at the restaurant I froze. I didn't think we'd cross paths like that. I thought maybe at the facility, an awkward wave, a small world conversation and that would be it."
His jaw ticks.
"I didn't expect you to kiss me." I pause. "I should have said something when you did. I should have told you right then that we already had this whole other thing connected to each other and I didn't, and that was wrong."
He exhales hard. "And the nanny job?"
"I didn't know about the nanny gig until last night." I watch his face to see if that registers. It’s still completely emotionless. "Natasha sprung this on me unexpectedly and told me she wasgoing to take it but had to back out at the last minute. I didn't take the job to get close to you or to create some sort of situation here, I swear. I didn't even know the job existed until the gym was already behind us."
Something flickers across his expression. It’s not absolution, but maybe a slight recalibration.
"I need the money," I say, because I want him to know the truth. "My mom left medical bills I'm still working through. The nanny pay would make a difference and I have the time between my schedule with the Mayhem, and I genuinely like kids. That's the whole story. I'll stay out of your way. You can trust me with Sawyer. And I won't make it weird when we cross paths at the facility."
His fingers drag over his jaw. For a moment he just looks at me.
"You work for the Mayhem too," he says.
"Physical therapist. Just promoted from intern. And before you ask—yes, I’m also your team owner's daughter. I know how that sounds. I know how all of it sounds but I swear he and I have no relationship. He barely acknowledges that I exist.”
He closes his eyes briefly. Opens them. "I have no idea what to think about any of this.”
I bite my lip. “I know. It’s a lot.”Understatement of the year.
He sighs. "I don't have a choice right now. I need to get to the city for training, and I can't get her to practice on the way or pick her up.” The words come out flat like it pains him to hire me. “You’ve left me with no other option.”
Ouch. "I know." I nod. "I get it."
Sawyer's footsteps on the stairs save us both from whatever comes next. She ducks under her dad's arm, bag over her shoulder, knee pads located. "See you tonight, Dad!"She's already moving toward my car like this is completely normal, like the air between the two adults she just walked past isn't vibrating with about fourteen different unresolved complications.
I linger for a second, hoping for something that tells me he’s not planning on firing me after tonight. His expression is still guarded and pissed. I hate it. I hate when people are mad at me. It hardly ever happens. I’m the kind of person who can make friends with anyone and I’m also a chronic people pleaser. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable and I certainly hate hurting people, and I can tell Seth feels betrayed by me which makes everything worse.
"I really am sorry," I say quietly. "For what it's worth."
His jaw works. "That's not the part that's bothering me."
I blink. "Then what is?"
He shakes his head once. "Just text me when you're home from practice and she's safe."
And then the door closes. I stand there for a second with the late summer air wrapped around me.
That's not the part that's bothering me?
I have no idea what to do with that.
