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“Come on, Dad. I’ll buy you a coffee.”
He frowns at me, then sighs. “Fine.”
The three of us take the elevator down to the main floor. Lorenzo tells us Erica was in class when the contractions started, and her water broke shortly after they reached the hospital. As we pass through the main lobby on our way to the cafeteria, my gaze falls on a familiar face.
Gavin has parked himself on one of the waiting area’s couches. My heart squeezes as he jumps to his feet at the sight of me.
“What ishedoing here?” Dad mutters.
I ignore my father’s question. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”
My dad hisses my name as I make my way across the lobby.
“Sorry,” Gavin says. “I didn’t think I’d run into Frank all the way down here.”
“It’s okay. He’d still be fuming even if you weren’t here. Why are you still here, by the way? I thought you’d left.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I wanted to stick around in case you needed anything. How’s Erica?”
“Slowly dilating.”
Gavin chuckles, then turns solemn. “And the baby?”
“Still on the way. Her doctor says it’ll be a while. You really don’t need to stick around.”
“Maybe not.” He takes my hand in his. “But I’m going to.”
Gratitude warms me, even as I shake my head. Gavin stayed. He didn’t have to, and I didn’t ask him to, but he decided to wait because he thought I might need him.
“Thank you, Gavin.”
“Alexis,” my dad calls.
Sighing, I shoot a glance over my shoulder. “I should go so he doesn’t get any ideas about coming over here.”
“Go,” Gavin says. “I’ll be a text away.”
He squeezes my hands and then lets me go. As I pull away, I still feel held by him. I hurry to rejoin my dad and Lorenzo who haven’t moved from the spot where I left them.
“Was that Gavin Dunn?” Lorenzo asks as we continue on to the cafeteria.
“Unfortunately,” my dad grumbles.
We devour sandwiches from the deli and pick up a Caesar wrap for my mom, then make our way back toward the elevators. My dad gives Gavin the evil eye on our return trip through the lobby.
“I swear he’s just hanging around here to vex me,” he says.
I bite my tongue as we step into the elevator. We’re halfway to our floor when Lorenzo says, “I heard they offered Gavin tenure-track. The department must’ve wanted him pretty badly.”
My father jerks around. “What department?”
“The history department,” Lorenzo says. “At Brookstone.”
I make a mental note to shove my sister’s husband into the next supply closet we come to.
My dad gapes at me. “Gavin Dunn is teaching at Brookstone?”
“Yes,” I say. “Not that it matters—”
