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“How about I pick him up some of his own toys today? That way you won’t have to leave him Aquaman again. Would that be a good idea?”
Blond strands fell in front of his eyes, and I was tempted to push them back with my finger.
“Okay,” Jackson said.
“Maybe we can build him a playground or something, too, so he has a fresh start with a new home.” Like you.
That suggestion got me a full-out grin, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from falling. I loved his grins, and I’d do anything to see more of them. Even if it meant attempting to build a playground for a skinny pig. The only thing I’d ever built were Jenga blocks with Mom after she had become too sick to get out of bed. We’d sit on her bed and put the tower of blocks on a cookie sheet.
“We can make him a castle with a drawbridge so no one can get in,” Jackson said, his voice brimming with excitement.
Oh boy. “How about we start with a play area. I’ll pick up some stuff at the hardware store this week and we can do it together.” We’d have to wait until after we moved to build something more permeant, but it would give him something to look forward to in our new place.
“Okay. Bye, Waffles. Bye, Aquaman.” He walked over to the bed, grabbed his knapsack, and hitched the straps onto his shoulders.
I double-checked that the door to Waffles’ enclosure was shut properly because Jackson hadn’t pushed the latch hard enough over the round bulb a few weeks ago, and I’d found Waffles under his bed with a clump of dust attached to his whiskers.
I followed Jackson out of the bedroom, grabbed my travel mug off the counter and the garbage bag of laundry, and headed out the door.
I tossed the laundry in the trunk, and Jackson hopped in the backseat. I shut the trunk and walked around to the driver’s side, putting my travel mug on the roof as I opened the door, and then dug through my purse for the keys.
My body stilled as a horde of goose bumps bounced across my skin like heated popcorn kernels. He was there. I knew he was there without even looking because I felt him all over me. No, through me. In me.
My fingers tangled around the keys at the bottom of my purse, and I should’ve yanked them out, climbed into my car, and driven away. But I didn’t.
Instead, I raised my head and flicked my gaze toward Vic’s house. That’s when my breath caught in my throat and untamed sparks ignited inside me.
Vic stood beside his black Ford Raptor truck with his cell to his ear. He wasn’t speaking into it. He wasn’t doing anything except staring at me.
He clipped out something to whoever was on the other end of the line, and then he lowered his phone. He dropped it in the side pocket of his cargo pants, his eyes still locked on me.
I stared back at him, a thrum of beats, pulses, and bumps hiccupping through me as if my body was having trouble deciding on how to react to him.
Until he lifted his chin at me.
Then it decided on a heated rush of nervousness with a spritz of anticipation as if I was jumping off a waterfall. My heart skipped beats and pixie-fairies cartwheeled in my belly.
Christ. What the hell was wrong with me? Pixie-fairies? When did I ever have pixies or fairies doing cartwheels? Even Kyle, a tech guy I’d dated for six months at university, didn’t cause cartwheeling pixie-fairies. It had been more of a gentle rolling quiver. A safe, gentle quiver. This was anything but safe.
Having Vic look at me was soul stealing. Or maybe it was soul crushing.
“There’s Mr. Gate! Can we go say hi?” Jackson unclipped his seatbelt and was about to dart out of the car.
I jerked, and the pixie-fairies tripped over themselves and then fell into the pit of my stomach in a sprinkle of dust.
“No.” I jumped into the car, slammed my door, and started the engine. “Put on your belt. We’re super late.”
I waited until I heard his seatbelt click, then pressed my foot on the gas. I was a little too forceful, and I heard the noise of stones spurting from the tire treads, along with the clank of my travel mug as it fell off the roof of the car.
Crap. But there was no chance I was stopping.
I cleared my throat and glanced in the rearview. “So, what excuse should we give Vice Principal Gruella Gorilla today?”
Vic
I watched Macayla’s car disappear around the bend, then folded into my truck and started the engine. I gripped the steering wheel, my hands tightening on the leather until it crackled under the pressure.
That’s what she did to me. She cracked my impenetrable outer shell and slipped inside the crevices like a goddamn seed slowly sprouting.
