Page 67 of Hot Shot

Wilder: Oh.

Remy: Yeah. Just be careful, man. Okay?

Wilder: Thanks. I appreciate it.

Remy: You’re not gonna though, are you?

Wilder: Nope!

Remy: Cool, thanks bro

CHAPTER 26

GIRL DAD

WILDER

It’s Friday afternoon and Cricket is hunched over her math sheet, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she carefully writes out the math problem, translated from the word problem.

I watch her from where I lean against the end of the island, amused. My heart is all warm and funny inside between sitting next to her at the island and Cass chopping vegetables on the other side.

My mind wanders, never straying far from that fuzzy feeling in my chest. It’s Friday afternoon, and her grandparents are coming to get her after dinner for the weekend. I don’t want her to go, but I know she should be with them as much as we can manage. They’re her home. I’m a stranger.

Anger flares at the thought of the years I’ve missed, but fades when I remember the woman I’m mad at is gone.

Tate didn’t know much else about Trent’s arrest, only that he was taken in. I wonder if Ashley’s parents heard anything. I wonder if they’re as worried as I am. Maybe worse off. But they’d know better than me whether or not he’s dangerous. I hopethey’ll tell me he’s harmless and he’ll never come for Cricket. I’d sleep better if they did.

I’ve made a mental checklist, decided to get a security system. Start locking the back door. And the windows. Maybe get a Doberman.

“Okay, what’s the next one?” Cass asks, scooping up a handful of carrot medallions and dumping them in the pot next to her.

Slowly, and with a serious lisp, Cricket says, “Jordan has seven oranges. Maria has three fewer. How many oranges does Maria have?”

“Good. What do we do first?” Cass begins to slice the celery, the knife clicking on the board.

“Find if it’s more or fewer?”

“Right. So what’s it say?”

“Fewer. So that’s…minus.”

“Good job. So, how do we write it out?”

Again, Cricket hunches over in concentration as she painstakingly scrawls out the numbers with a minus between them. Cass watches her with a small smile. I almost tell her to pay attention so she doesn’t cut off a finger, but remember she’s a fucking grown woman and doesn’t need my help.

But the impulse to protect her is a dick like that. Despite the fact, I keep my mouth shut.

I do, however, want a snack.

Cricket pushes the eraser into her chin as she thinks about the answer. “Seven minus three,” she says, but keeps staring.

“Make a model,” Cass suggests as I step up behind her, reaching around to grab a section of celery stick. Our bodies barely touch. I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, but here we are—Cass looking up at me, close enough to kiss, and me smirking down at her like an asshole, chomping on a celery stick.

She makes a little face as I retreat, but I shrug. “What? I was hungry.”

Cricket is all lit up, busy drawing seven squares, then coloring in three of them. The eraser leaves a little mark on her chin, but I don’t want to interrupt her. “Four!”

“Good job!” Cass laughs as Cricket celebrates with a riot of giggling. “What’s next?”

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