Page 43 of The Best Shot

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Shaun would lose his mind.”

“I don’t care.”

Her eyes came up. Sharp, assessing. Looking for the catch.

“Why?” she asked.

“You and the baby are more important. Come stay with me.”

The silence held.

Then, “Okay.” Quiet. Like a door opening. “I’ll stay.”

Her shoulders dropped for the first time since I’d walked in.

I finished my drink without tasting it.

When we stood, I hugged her. She felt fragile, all bone and tension worn thin.

“You deserve better,” I said.

She pulled back, nodded. “Yes, I fucking do.”

I sat in my car outside the coffee shop for a long time.

The sidewalk was full of tourists. People who’d driven hours to be somewhere quaint for the afternoon. They’d leave by dinner. I envied them.

My phone was in my hand before I realized I’d reached for it. Hale’s name on the screen. The last message still the one I hadn’t answered.

I thought about CeeCee’s why. How surprised she’d been by an offer that shouldn’t have surprised her at all.

Funny. I’d always felt like an outsider in the Valentine household. Turns out she did too.

I thought about my mother in my kitchen. Woman to woman. Talk some sense into her.

I put my phone in my bag without opening the message.

Started the car.

Drove back to my apartment to figure out how to make a spare room livable before I changed my mind about any of it.

12

“WAS I THAT GOOD?”

YASMINE

Isaw him before he saw me.

He stood in aisle three of the hardware store, in front of a wall of drill bits. Soft blue tee, jeans that had definitely seen better days, work boots scuffed to hell and back. His locs were tied low at the nape of his neck, a few strands loose.

Even in the middle of fluorescent lighting and cold steel, he still had that same easy way about him, like salt air followed him around.

I’d been pretending I was fine with what happened in that bar bathroom. With leaving him in the parking lot after. I hadn’t done anything wrong, not exactly, but it didn’t feel right either.