I didn’t know how to say what I meant. “I don’t know, like my crazy dad and my weird high-school days. The anxiety and depression. None of those things really go away. I just feel bad saddling someone else with my effed up genetics.”
The wind blew up from the ocean, ruffling Hayden’s dark hair, and he shot me an amused smile. “You trying to get rid of me? Because that’s not going to happen. I know your dad and your sordid history—I’m part of it.”
He came to a stop, dragging me into his arms. Being around Hayden made me feel safer and more protected than anyone else. Partially from his sheer size but also just his nature. He tilted my chin up and said, “What’s running through your mind, Heaven?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Changes, I guess. Amber moving home. Getting Sadie. The new gym expansion. Things at work are a little hectic. Our lives are progressing and I guess I find it a little scary.”
“Progress is good, babe.” He thumbed my bottom lip, opening it for him, and then bent down to give me a kiss. I allowed myself to sink into him the way I’d been doing since Amber got my mind reeling about the future and kids. Being with them physically kept me grounded, and I didn’t know if it was hormones or fear or what, but I wanted them all the time. Certainly, none of them seemed to mind.
“You’re right,” I told him when we parted. “I’m good. Just being weird.”
“That,” he said, kissing my forehead, “I knew. But listen, if anything’s bothering you, just tell me or the guys. We’re here—always. You know that’s how we do things; we get each other through.”
I knew he meant it, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d feel that way if he knew the truth about what I wanted or didn’t want. If they’d still support me. Sadie ran up and shook cold drops of beach water over our feet.
I had a feeling we’d find out soon enough.
7
Heaven
Sadie and I were rounding the corner at the park when a wide stroller blocked our path. Monique, our neighbor, had her hands on the bar across the back—both kids were inside. The boy and girl, both looking like they were nearly the same age, squealed with delight when they saw Sadie. Sadie was also delighted and pulled me to a stop.
“Doggie, doggie,” the girl said. She had on a pink hat with cat ears and shoes coated in glitter.
“Woof, woof,” the boy added in. His hair was a shiny white-blonde and he had brilliant blue eyes.
Monique smiled down at her kids and then looked at me. “Heaven, right? I don’t think we’ve formally been introduced. I’m Monique.”
I shook her hand. “Sorry I’m sweaty.”
“Ugh, I wish I could run again. They’re just too heavy to lug all over the place.”
“You were a runner?” I asked, discreetly checking her out. Monique had one of those bodies that was tight and fit and made you wonder how she’d had two kids already. Her cleavage was on point in her workout tank and her ponytail was messy but in that way that looked good—not like the disheveled mess of my own.
“Back in the day. Now I mostly go to the yoga studio. They have a child care center, which makes it easier for me to get to.”
“Oh, well that make sense.” Both kids leaned over and Sadie happily gave them kisses. “Sadie, stop, no one wants your slobber on them.”
“Oh! They do. They love this dog! We see the guys walking them all the time.”
“She needs a lot of exercise. Otherwise she starts chewing up things.”
Monique laughed and looked down at her kids. “Sound familiar. Why do you think I have them out all the time? They make me nuts indoors.”
I eyed the kids. I can’t imagine Amber having one of these—and soon.
“I have to tell you, I was a little star-struck when I realized we were living down the street from Anderson Thompson. I’m a huge Olympics fan. Then my husband recognized Hayden. How in the world are you friends with both of them?”
“We went to high school together. We’ve all known each other forever.”
“Oh wow, that’s really cool.” The kids started to squirm in their seats—bored with Sadie. “I can’t imagine what it’s like being around them, and not just because that level of athleticism has to be intense.” She fake-fanned herself. “Not that the other two guys are bad looking.”
“No, they’re not.” It came out more defensive than I intended but I didn’t pull back. “But like all guys they’re a handful; messy, distracted, obsessed with work.”
“Tell me about it. My husband is commuting right now and he’s only home on weekends.”
“You’ve got the kids all by yourself all week?” That sounded like a nightmare. Score one more for the no-kids decision.