Dirty Curve

“For reals.” He looks over. “Maybe I want as much Meyer time as I can get.”

I shove him and he grins, pulling himself up beside me.

“We’re already studying a ridiculous number of hours.”

“Who said anything about studying?” he says in a light roar, lifting Bailey up so she can push off on her tiptoes.

“Right.” I laugh. “Well, this little trip you forced me into did manage to give me my first full weekday off in forever.”

“Oh, yeah? Does that mean you’re coming to my game?” He smirks, but his tone is painfully hopeful.

I shake my head, and he looks away, but not before his frown takes over.

“I’m on the clock both days we’re here, but I guess the school’s required to give a twenty-four-hour leave after staff travel, so Thursday I’m free and I can’t wait.”

“Guess you should thank me for making this happen,” Tobias jokes, teasing Bailey with the bill of his hat, and then tears it off quickly, but she doesn’t care. Her hands still go right for his head, her little palms rubbing across the dark strands, and not a second later, she dips forward, attempting to bite him.

Tobias grins, pulling her back, and her eyes dart my way, going straight to the bun on top of my head. She jolts in again, ready to grab at it, but I lean back.

“Awe, come on, she wants yours now.” He makes a pouty face, shimmying Bailey a bit. “Is she being mean, Bailey Bay?”

With a playful sigh, I pull my hair free, letting it fall around me, and Tobias wastes no time, blindly grabbing a long strand and holding it up, tickling and teasing her with it.

She tries to grab it, but he moves it just fast enough that she can’t quite get it, and she begins jumping in his hold, smiling and giggling like crazy.

His chuckle is warm, and when my head turns to look at him, his follows. His blue eyes meet mine, a tenderness written within them. His mouth curves a little higher, but it’s different than his usual grin, expressive in a way that makes my throat run dry.

But everyone gets in their feelings when an infant’s smiling at them, and Bailey hasn’t stopped.

She lets out a squeaky scream and a laugh leaves me.

My lips pull to one side. “She wants your attention back.”

Tobias’s eyes move between mine, and now his grin is full of conceit.

“Of course, she does.” He gives her what she wants, focusing on her. “They all do.” He leans forward, making ridiculous faces she seems to enjoy. “All but your ma, Bailey Bay.”

My stomach leaps into my chest and he knows it, a mischievous chuckle escaping him.

I push his shoulder with mine before climbing off the bed as an excuse to face away, and walk over to my bag, pulling out a hairbrush. I sit on the vanity chair, brushing the tangles out of my hair since I just tore the hair tie from it. As I grab it all in my palms again, twisting to throw it right back up, my eyes shift in the mirror.

Tobias is propped against the pillows, half lying down and half sitting up, Bailey’s chest on his. He’s looking at something on his phone, his other arm wrapped around her lower back to make sure she doesn’t roll off.

Bailey pats his jaw, squeezes his nose, and drags her hands down his face to pinch at his mouth. Tobias tips his chin, allowing her to explore the shape of him however she wishes, but that’s not even the part that creates the ache in my chest. It’s the way his lips pucker the slightest bit, as if he’s pecking her fingers adoringly, if he even realizes it.

I don’t think he does.

I think it’s natural.

He likes her.

Right then, his eyes fly my way, instantly finding mine in the mirror, and my stomach dips.

He doesn’t look away, and I’m not sure how long my hand stays frozen in the air, my hair half twisted up, but neither of us snaps out of it until Bailey begins to fuss.

Her bow slips off when she buries her head in his neck, and she begins rubbing her eyes as a fake little cry leaves her.

“I think someone’s hungry, mama.”

I nod, allowing my hair to fall back down, and his gaze follows the movements.

Tobias pushes to his feet and I spin on the vanity chair.

When he’s taking his last step toward me, I finally remember to stand, reminding myself to breathe as I do.

He passes Bailey to me, but his hands don’t fall to his side, but instantly reach forward, pushing my hair over my shoulder, his fingers lingering near my exposed collarbone.

His jaw flexes, his eyes lifting to mine as he brings one strand back, handing it to Bailey. “She likes to hold it when you feed her, right?”