Page 14 of Playing With Forever

“I would love to see Lindy’s work, and I certainly don’t want to disappoint her. However, I don’t want to upset you or have you upset with your daughter if you’d rather me not⁠—”

“You don’t want to disappoint Lindy?”

I wasn’t sure what I was hearing in Evan’s tone; it was a cross between a whisper and a rumble. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.

“Of course I don’t.” I managed to keep the offense out of my tone, or at least I hoped I did.

A light knock on the doorjamb drew my attention to Phil standing outside my office with Miss Anna, the grandmother of three young boys who attended our program.

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” I told Evan. “But my next appointment has arrived.”

“Right, see you tomorrow,” he clipped, not sounding happy he would be seeing me.

I disconnected, shook off the call with Evan, then did what I did best—shoved my personal life aside and went back to work.

The Hope Center and my boys—they were all I had.

All I needed.

Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the loneliness as quickly as I normally could.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Not cool, asshole,” I grunted as I caught the ball before it could hit me in the face.

“Don’t know where your head's at, but it’s not on the game,” Echo returned from half court.

He wasn’t wrong.

My head was totally fucked.

“Josie’s at my house.”

“Come again?”

I dribbled the ball and passed it back to him.

“Lindy invited her over to show her a painting she’s working on.”

Echo smacked the ball away and let it roll to the sidelines.

Well, fuck, so much for a game of basketball to keep myself occupied while the woman I was fucking—no, I wasn’t fucking her; I’d fucked her, and she’d rolled out of my bed—was right then visiting with my beloved daughter.

“Lindy invited her over to show her a painting she’s working on?” he repeated.

I understood his shock. Echo and I had been partners for five years, before that, we were friends. He knew Lindy didn’t show anyone—including me—what she was working on. She also rarely left her studio once she started a new piece—unless, of course, there was a once-in-a-lifetime concert she couldn’t miss. What Lindy had never done, not even when she was a child, was allow anyone to see her creative process.

Lindy had also told Josie she heard colors, which was something my daughter guarded like a state secret—afraid that if people knew, they’d think she was weird.

I didn’t tell Echo that because that was something Echo didn’t know, since Lindy had never shared that with him, or to my knowledge, anyone but me.

And now Josie.

“Yep. Lindy went to the Hope Center yesterday and invited her.”

Echo’s face registered surprise, then it morphed into suspicion, and finally landed on what could only be described as what the fuck.

Instead of playing twenty questions, I gave Echo the abbreviated truth while walking to the bench to grab my water.