“I’d like to meet her,” Rowe smiles. I’d like them to meet, too. I’d like everyone to meet Leah.
“She’s part of the reason I left,” I admit, realizing how negative that sounds when Rowe’s smile falls. “Not…not because of her, but for her. She has a trust that’s controlled by Chandra’s dad. And I…”
“You complicate things,” Rowe says, completely understanding.
“Like I said…it’s complicated,” I sigh, letting the weight of my body fall deep into my pillow and mattress.
“That sounds a lot like love to me,” Rowe says.
“I don’t know,” I respond, looking away, trying to find the words to explain the rest. “Maybe.”
Rowe stands, crosses the small space between our beds, and crawls up to sit next to me. Her hand moves a layer of hair away from my face. Her gesture is so simple, but it brings a tear to my eye. I wipe it away before it has a chance to grow.
“I think you know,” she says, leaning forward enough to catch my sightline, to bring my eyes back to hers. “You’re a little scared because, hello, he has a kid!” she says, waving both hands by her face. I laugh, catching the second tear in my eye before it falls. “But…I think you know. Leah’s amazing, because Houston’s amazing, and he made her that way. And you…you love the whole package.”
I do.
I love the whole package.
I love the way Leah smiles, and I love the way Houston makes her laugh.
I love the feel of her small hands around my waist and the tender touch of his hand on my cheek.
I love the way he looks at me when I say something kind to his daughter.
Houston and Leah are so far off the map of where I ever thought I’d go. They were never on a list—never a goal, never anything I thought I wanted. But I want to deserve them. And I love the girl I am when I’m part of them.
“I’m really happy you and Nate are together,” I say finally, smiling at her as I sit up next to her. When Rowe and I first met, we competed for Nate. It was stupid. And even though it was only months ago, I feel like I’m years away from being the person I was then.
Rowe squeezes my hand against the mattress, then stands and walks to her desk, pulling out a few things and busying herself with schoolwork. She knows that my comment was really my way of saying thank you. And the fact that she doesn’t expect me to say anything else makes me like her even more.
Chapter 19
Houston
Tracey understood. It didn’t take long for her to piece everything together after Paige walked out of the bar. The only part I had to fill her in on was the fact that my boneheaded friend—the one whose door I’ve been pounding on for the last five minutes—was the one who filled out the online profile.
She said he sounded like a good friend, but I don’t know…right now, I kind of think he’s a dick hole.
“I’m not going to quit knocking, because I know you’re in there. And it’s after noon, so I know you are awake, and if you’re not awake, then you’re hung over, and the fact that I’m knocking is really irritating the shit out of you, and that REALLY fucking makes me happy!” I shout while pounding. Casey’s neighbor is a chain-smoking older woman whose hair is constantly in curlers. I wave with my other hand because she’s been watching me this entire time, and she finds my latest rant funny. She waves back, and I start to pound harder because I sort of feel like now there’s a team of us out here to piss him off.
“Dude!” he shouts, flinging the door open. I lose my balance and fall inside a step or two. “I mean, come on! Have some respect!”
He’s wearing a robe, and he looks ridiculous. It’s red velvet, like he just rolled in from the Playboy Mansion. That, on top of what he just said, has me in a fit of laughter. I have to bend over to catch my breath.
“Fuck,” he says, gripping his head with one hand. I had a feeling he was hung over. He slams his door shut behind me, wincing at the sound he made.
“Get dressed,” I say. He slouches on his couch, both hands on his head now, his hair wild and in all directions. He looks like a poor-man’s mad scientist.
“I am dressed,” he grunts.
“In clothes you can go out in. Come on, I’m hungry, and you’re buying me lunch. Then, we’re going to talk about all of the damned dating websites you’ve got me on, and then we’re going to take me off those sites,” I say. I refuse to sit down, instead pacing back and forth in front of his ugly plaid sofa.