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“So, you’ll what? Move?”
“It’s what I thought about in the beginning, but the counselor told me to keep him here. To wait and see.”
He was waiting for something bad to happen, and he had a contingency plan for when it did. “That’s no way to live your life. Always waiting for something to happen so you’ll pick up and leave.”
Suddenly, Nick looked exhausted.
I wanted to let it go to process it. Instead of pursuing the conversation further, I stood and clapped my hands. “Boys, are you ready for s’mores?”
“Yeah,” they said, dropping their gloves and coming toward us.
“Get what we need from the pantry, and I’ll grab the logs for the fire.”
“You need help?” Nick asked.
“I’ve got it.” I didn’t need him to do things for me. If I let him in, I’d trigger his savior complex. I was a single mom. He’d want to swoop in and save me. I didn’t want that. I wanted a partner. Someone equal.
I grabbed the logs and sticks to roast marshmallows from the side of the house and dropped them inside the makeshift pit. I lit it as I waited for the boys to come out with the supplies we needed.
The boys grabbed the marshmallows and slid them onto the sticks I’d set aside for them. They jostled each other to get into position around the pit.
“Boys, no roughhousing around the fire,” Nick said, his voice firm.
The boys talked about how charred they liked their marshmallows. Hunter liked his burned, and Brody said he liked them partially black.
It was nice to have the two boys there and someone to help. I would have wanted more kids had I been in a committed relationship.
If I’d wanted him to, Nick would have gotten the fire ready. It would be so easy to want that all the time. That was why Nick was dangerous. He’d lure me into a makeshift family. I’d fall in love, and then he’d be gone.
His gaze met mine over the fire, and I wondered if he was having the same thoughts. The boys ate several marshmallows before finally making s’mores.
Nick took the sticks from them, made two more s’mores, and offered one to me. “Thank you.”
When they were finished, they washed their hands and went back to throwing a ball around.
“Are you going to let me look at your books?” Nick said as he popped the last bite of s’more into his mouth.
I was trying to eat mine without making a mess, but it was impossible. Marshmallow stuck to my fingers, my lips, and my pants. “I guess.”
“Could we meet this week?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something too.” I wanted to talk about a physical relationship. I just had to stress that we couldn’t get involved emotionally. Neither of us was looking for something permanent.
He gave me a questioning look, but Brody called him over to pitch to them. We only had a few more minutes of light, so I let him go.
Sixteen
NICK
Abby couldn’t meet until Friday. I picked up lunch, thinking she’d be hungry. She’d mentioned in our texts she tended to work nonstop when Hunter was at school, rarely breaking or taking a moment to herself.
I knocked on the door, thinking about how different it would be at her house without Brody and Hunter as buffers.
Opening the door, she wore a white chunky sweater over black leggings, and her feet were in cozy-looking slippers. Her dark hair was thrown into a messy bun. She looked soft and warm and completely touchable.
I resisted the urge to pull the clip out of her hair and let her hair tumble around her shoulders. The desire to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she was needy with lust filled me. I bit my lip against the overwhelming need to make her come undone.
Abby tipped her head to the side. “Did you want to come in?”
