Page 46 of We Can Forever

I like this woman—a lot—and why not show Katie what healthy dating looks like? Plus, Katie seems to like Hannah.

I just need to make absolutely sure. I need to talk to Katie about it before I go any further, need to see where her head is at.

The two of them walk ahead of me, laughing over some knitting joke Hannah just shared. My lips pull into a smile, but at the same time, my chest aches.

My dad was right, as much as I hate to admit it. Aside from the annual visit to Pine Island, Katie didn’t have any female influences growing up. At eleven, it seems that I’ve robbed her of years of important interactions.

Is it too late? Have I fucked up that part of parenting completely?

We arrive at the pizza joint, and Katie slides into the booth next to Hannah, stealing any opportunity for my leg to rub against Hannah’s under the table.

Oh well. At least sitting across from her means I can look at her.

And, damn. She looks gorgeous tonight. Her blonde hair has a slight wave in it, highlighting the mix of white and light-blonde strands I hadn’t noticed before. Instead of the glasses she often wears at work, she’s opted for contacts, I assume, causing her blue eyes to really stand out. And the all-black outfit makes her look like a beat poet about to take the stage.

“Dad. You’re staring.”

“Huh?” I blink at Katie.

She snorts. “You were staring at Hannah.”

My face warms. Shit. How do I even answer that?

“It’s okay.” Katie leans back in the booth, a knowing look on her face. “You can stare at your girlfriend. It’s allowed. It’s just funny, is all. You had a goofy look. Like this.” She demonstrates, dropping her jaw and crossing her eyes.

Hannah presses her fingers to her lips, but it does little to stifle her laugh. Meanwhile, my mental gears are turning so fast they’re probably overheating.

I haven’t called Hannah my girlfriend. Ever. But hell yeah, I would love to give her that title… If she’ll take it.

I try to catch her gaze, but she’s looking at someone approaching the table.

“Hey, guys. How are you doing?” The waitress puts down some water glasses and then cocks her head at me. “Michael?”

Oh no. Someone from Pine Island works here?

I force a smile, trying to place her. Brunette…about thirty…green eyes…

Nope. It does nothing for me.

“Rochelle,” she supplies.

With that, the memory hits me. A dark bar on the mainland. Last call. Following Rochelle’s car back to her place. A frenzied, drunk couple of hours, followed by my leaving in the middle of the night without asking for her number.

That was, what? Four years ago?

Okay, yes. So, I’ve engaged in random hookups from time to time. They haven’t been my proudest moments, and there’s a reason I always left the island to find someone. I didn’t want to bring any part of that habit into my regular life.

But now it looks as if I’ve done exactly that.

“How…are you?” Something feels stuck in my throat—air?—and I cough.

“Good.” She gives me a quick eyebrow raise, the daggers from her eyes piercing me right in the face.

“You’re our waitress?” I ask, aware of Katie and Hannah looking at me.

“I’m the owner. I was just bringing your waters over. Your waitress will be here soon. Enjoy dinner.” She smiles at Hannah and Katie before turning on her heel and striding away.

I pick up the menu and hide my face behind it. “What are we having tonight?”

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