Page 36 of The Way We Collide

After a few heartbeats of silence, I take a step away. “Houston, I think we have liftoff.”

He grins, allowing his blue eyes to run over my face in a way that makes my skin prickle with heat. “You’re really good at all this.”

“I’ve been doing it a while. You’ll get the hang of it, too.”

“You make it look so easy.” The side of his mouth cocks a grin that reminds me of Jacob Elordi.

Or maybe with those blue eyes Austin Butler? He definitely has the young, cocky LA heartthrob down pat, with a touch of southern accent. It’s a silly thought I dismiss at once.

“Your voice is so smooth and polished. I didn’t know you were such a good singer.”

“Remnants of my pageant years.” My eyes fall to my hands. “Singing was my talent.”

“We’ll have to do karaoke! I’d love to hear you sing for real.”

“Maybe.” I nod, considering it. I’ve never suffered from stage fright. “I guess that does it. Goodnight, Hendrix.”

He’s still studying me in that way. “Good night.”

I take a few steps in the direction of my bedroom when another round of hiccuped cries begins. Freezing in place, I look over my shoulder, and our worried eyes meet.

Hendrix has been pretty game for learning all this baby stuff, but Haddy’s cries really throw him off balance. I can’t blame him—it takes getting used to.

He’s still right outside her door, but he holds up his hands, whispering. “Should I wait?”

Nodding, I retrace my steps to stand beside him again. Her hiccuped cries are different this time. Now she seems more awake for some reason, and she sounds really pitiful. She sounds like an abandoned child in a dark and scary new room.

Her whimpers grow louder, and our eyes meet briefly before Hendrix and I both burst through her door, hustling to where she’s standing inside her crib.

When she sees us, she holds out her arms. Hendrix beats me to her, lifting her straight onto his chest.

“It’s okay, baby.” His voice is soothing, and he rubs her back as she makes baby humming noises around her pacifier. “We’re here. We got you.”

My lips press tightly as I watch him, and I have no idea why I’m so sentimental. “She’ll probably need a night or two to adjust to the new place.”

He nods, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “Everybody needs to adjust to a new place. Why should a baby be any different?”

“I know what will help. Where do you watch movies?”

Shaking his head, he exhales. “We’ve already established this?—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt. “Sports. Where do you watch sports? Do you have like a home theater or something?”

I’m pretty certain in a house this size and this luxurious (and with as much as he loves football), there has to be a home theater. I’ve always heard everyone in LA has one.

“Right this way.” He takes off ahead of me, carrying Haddy, who’s clutching Axel and looking ahead. She seems right at home sitting on his arm.

“Here it is.” He opens the door, and I gasp.

“Oh my gosh…” I walk into the dark room with lighted sconces on the walls. “It’s exactly like a real movie theater!”

“That’s exactly what it is.” He reaches out to hit a button.

Black curtains open slowly over a wall-sized screen, and my eyes widen. It really is a small theater. The only difference is instead of rows of seats, there’s a large, black leather sofa in the shape of a horseshoe for us to sit on.

Armrests divide it into sections, and I sit beside him as he arranges Haddy and Axel on his lap. She leans back against his chest like she’s been doing this all her little life, sucking her pacifier and staring at the white screen.

“What do we do now?” I look from her to the screen as well.

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