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I nod, humming an affirmative and hoping it doesn’t sound too choked.
He looks at me for another long moment and part of me wants to tell him to stop, to not look at me in a way that feels like he wants me back in his bed. Fortunately, he turns and heads toward the living room, and I release a quiet breath and follow him. In the kitchen, the cake is already out of the box and Jacob is cutting slices for all of us. Elaine stands eagerly by his legs, ready to eat cake, and I know I have to feed her unless I want her to get messy as hell again. I’d rather she not stain her clothes.
“Cake looks delicious, Daria,” Jacob says to me as he puts a slice on the fourth plate.
I chuckle gently. “It’s chocolate, hope that’s okay.”
“Pops is a fiend for chocolate,” Caden comments lightly, earning a scoff of a laugh from his dad.
We move to the counter where Jacob is, and as I take one of the plates, I look down at Elaine and tell her, “I’m gonna feed you, you messy miss.”
Lips puckering into a pout, Elaine shakes her head before pointing at the football player standing a few feet away. “Caden.”
The mention of his name catches Caden’s attention, eyebrows raising as he looks from Elaine to me. I blink, looking down at my daughter and slowly ask, “You want Caden to feed you?” When Elaine nods, her ponytail bobbing at the movement, my lips part. “Uh, I don’t think he—”
“It’s fine,” Caden cuts in. I meet his gaze and he nods before smiling at Elaine. “I got you.”
Elaine grins, wide and giddy, and my throat dries as he picks Elaine up and sets her on the counter. She kicks her little feet as Caden takes the plate from me and, I swear, my stomach twists and I think my ovaries come to life as I watch him take a small chunk of the cake with the fork and bring it to Elaine’s mouth.
Her gaze is fixed on him, a childlike adoration in her blue eyes, as Caden feeds her. He easily towers over her tiny frame as he stands in front of her, and I’m frozen where I stand as he smiles at her. The two of them. . . It’s like they are completely entranced by one another and, oh my God, I feel my eyes burn at the sight before me. He’s so gentle with her, so soft spoken as they talk, and my grip on my own plate tightens while I watch them.
Caden feeds her carefully, making sure not to get any frosting on her face, making sure the crumbs fall back onto the plate and not on her clothes. He’s attentive and his focus is completely on Elaine, and the fluttering in my chest intensifies as the minutes go on. He would make such a good dad.
The more I watch them, the more that thought becomes prominent in my head, and my throat locks up in response. Watching him. . . It’s such a vast difference from guys I have gone on dates with, before Caden and I started hooking up. I’d make it a few dates with some guys, but the second they found out I’m a mom, they were no longer interested. And I can’t entirely blame them. Dating a single mom is pretty different from dating a woman who doesn’t come with another person. I get that they wouldn’t be ready to potentially deal with a child.
But Caden—he’s never balked from Elaine, from me being a mother. We became friends so easily, and it never felt like he was simply extending that courtesy to Elaine. If anything, he has always treated her like she’s justher, another someone new in his life, and not some extension of me. It meant a lot. It still means a lot.
And as I watch him, my stomach turning and heart flipping, I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’m doing. This man. . . This handsome, kindhearted man is the first to so openly say he wants me and everything that comes with me. And I have been too afraid of the public to give into what we both want. I’m Elaine’s mother; I should be able to protect her from anything--and I believe I can.
So, what the hell is stopping me from allowing myself to be happy? When will it finally be time to let myself have what I want in its full capacity?
14
CADEN
“You sure you don’t need anything, man?” JJ asks, eyebrows pulled together in concern as he looks down at me.
I shoot him a look that is a mix of exasperation and gratitude. “I’m fine, JJ,” I tell him for the tenth time. “You don’t have to stick around. I can handle the crutches.”
His lips pursed, looking like he feels guilty for leaving me, but he shouldn’t. The sprain on my right foot is nothing; I’ve dealt with far worse. The team doctor prescribed me pain medication if I need them, my foot wrapped up tight, and crutches to help me get around my apartment just so I’m not putting any weight on my foot that would slow down the healing time. The injury was sudden, happening because of an awkward tackle during the game, but nothing I can’t recover from. The team doctor, Dr. Stern, said I’ll be fine within a week or so, so I’m not too worried about the recovery.
It’s just an annoyance. Nothing horrible.
“Alright,” JJ relents with a huff. “If you need anything, just text me.”
I nod, shooting him a small smile. “Appreciate it, man.”
He nods and then heads towards the door, and right before he opens it, the doorbell rings. I glance over my shoulder from where I sit on the couch, looking towards the door, and JJ glances at me before opening the door. From where I sit, I can’t see who is on the other side, but I do hear JJ greet, “Hey, Daria.”
I instantly sit up, shoulders tensing as I keep staring at the door that shields my view of her. I hear her voice. “Hey, JJ. I just, uh, came by to check on Caden.”
My teeth press together at that. She wants to check on me? My breath seizes in my lungs. We have talked only a little since she and Elaine came to have dinner with Dad and me about four days ago, but the conversations had been quick and mundane. Except nothing about Daria herself is mundane, and being able to talk to her is something I cherish. That woman is constantly on my mind; just speaking to her puts me at ease.
“Oh, sure. I was just heading out,” JJ says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you around.”
She bids him goodbye, and I watch as she comes into view when she steps into the apartment. She’s in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that seems to swallow her whole, blonde hair falling around her shoulders. Blue eyes immediately lock on my hazel, and my closed mouth tips up at the edges in a small smile as I see her take in a breath, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey,” she breathes out, fingers wringing in front of her. She lingers in the doorway for a moment before pushing forward and slowly making her way towards where I sit. I see her gaze flick at my wrapped-up foot, propped up on a cushion on the coffee table in front of me, and then to the crutches resting against the side of the couch. The corners of her mouth turn downward, eyebrows pulling together subtly. “Are you okay?”
