Page 90 of Only and Forever

She shrugs. “Despite what you’ve seen at soccer, I’m just one of those people who clicks with kids.”

“I loved what I’ve seen at soccer.”

She laughs as she strolls past me into the kitchen. “That’s because I whipped them into shape for you.”

I follow her, trying not to stare at her wide, swaying hips and failing miserably. “I know I sort of begged you to help me again this week, but would you want to keep helping me coach them... for the season?”

Tallulah pauses, a bunch of markers gathered in her hand. She glances up. “You want me to?”

I want whatever you’ll give me, Lu.

“Of course I want you to.”

She smiles, eyes back on her task as she sets the markers in their container, then snaps it shut. “That sounds fun, yeah.”

“Good.” I shuffle together the unused papers scattered across the counter, separating them from the ones Linnea drew on, which I’ll stick on the fridge. There’s a picture I hadn’t noticed before—she was coloring with Tallulah for a bit while Theo and I read books on the couch. I stare at it, my heart thudding.

Three stick figures standing on green grass, all of them smiling. One tall, with a huge brown beard and brown hair and a dark blue ball cap. One short, with ice-blue hair and a triangle dress. The last one, biggest, in the foreground, wearing a rainbow triangle dress, bright smile, blue eyes, black squiggly hair. Me, Tallulah, Linnea. Red hearts dance all over the stick figures, floating up to the big sun overhead.

Stick-figure Viggo and Tallulah hold hands, two overlapping circles.

Tallulah steps beside me, peering at the paper. “Kids don’t miss a thing.”

I peer down at her, aching for her. I want to lay her down and make her feel so fucking good. I want to cuddle and kiss her senseless, until I’m dizzy from the need to breathe.

Turning, Tallulah peers up at me and brushes my wrist with herknuckles. “Speaking of missing things...” She steps closer, her hand skating up my arm. “You missed out on a return favor, earlier.”

I swallow nervously, panic that’s been my frequent companion this past week creeping through my body. I’m feeling so much, so much more than I ever thought I would about the woman standing before me. The woman who once swore that my idea of love, of everything I believed would hold together me and the person I wanted was a lie. The woman who now says she wants to try to see it differently, to open herself up to possibilities she’d never believed possible before.

I’m scared she’ll change her mind. I’m scared she’ll change her mind aboutme. I’m scared to give her my body when so much remains unanswered. But I don’t want to push her away, either. I don’t want to tell her no. I want to tell her... not yet. I hope she can hear what I’m saying, what I’m asking, what I need.

I cup her face, my thumbs sweeping along her cheeks. “You don’t owe me anything in return for what we did earlier.”

Tallulah frowns, her mouth pulled tight. “Why?”

I exhale unsteadily, stepping closer, dragging my knuckles against her cheeks. “What we did, there’s no scoreboard. I’m not keeping a tally. I did that for you because I wanted to.”

“And I want to do that for you, too,” she says earnestly.

“I know.”

Her eyes search mine, understanding seeping in. “You’re not sure... if you wantmeto.”

How to explain something so complicated? How to tell her I want more than she may want to give me, that I’m afraid to finally give myself to someone this way, only to have it possibly mean so much less to her than it would mean to me?’

“I...” Exhaling slowly, I hold her eyes, find my courage. “I’ve... never... done this before, Tallulah.”

She tips her head. “Intimacy outside of a clearly defined relationship?”

Heat creeps up my cheeks. I shake my head.

Tallulah blinks once, twice. “Wait. You’ve never done it...”

“Ever,” I whisper. My face is bright red. I am my father’s son in this aspect—no red hair like Ren and Ziggy’s, but a solid auburn streak and their same capacity to turn the color of a beet when thoroughly embarrassed.

“Viggo,” she breathes, clasping my hand. “God, I’m sorry. I feel so thoughtless. I should have asked. I didn’t know—”

“Don’t be sorry,” I blurt. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I could have told you. I wasn’t even thinking about anything at the time, except making you feel good, Tallulah, and I loved what we did. I wanted to do it. So much.”

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