Page 43 of Because of Her

“What could be better than my favourite meal?” she says with a giant grin, but when she sees my wide eyes and subtle headshake she stretches her arms out wide in what is clearly a fake hug. “But, I am pretty tired.”

Maisie kicks her feet against me in protest.

“No, Maisie.”

A puff of air hits my head as she gives in.

As if she senses the changing mood, Cassidy races off ahead, calling out a goodbye before she ducks into her apartment.

Whatever reservations she had about Maisie, the demons she still holds, I’m glad Cassidy has been able to relax and have fun today. And I hope she realises we can still be ‘us’, even though I have a child.

Going through the motions of cooking dinner, and helping Maisie to bed, I’m stuck replaying Cassidy’s comment about sweet and sour chicken in my head. Wondering if it is her favourite meal or if she was making excuses because she wanted to spend more time with us.

The idea she wasn’t quite ready to leave warms my heart, until I remember the many lunch breaks we shared.The slightly sour, pineapple smell of her left over dinner filling the tiny break room, and the way it stained the microwave orange. The time a carton of sauce came in with damaged lids and she took them all home. I never asked what it was she liked about it, never thought anything of it. But for her to consider choosing it over Amira’s cooking, there must be something special about it.

With Maisie finally sleeping, I creep into the hallway. Keeping the doors open so I can hear her just in case.

I lift my hand to knock, but Amira appears in the hallway before I get a chance.

“Cassidy,” she calls as she walks towards the stairwell.

Tapping my knuckle against my chest, I try to remember why I’m here. Cassidy comes out of her room wearing the baggy oversized tee she loves, and I can’t take my eyes off her.

“Do you really love sweet and sour chicken?”

Of all the things I could have said,thatwas what I led with. I cringe at myself, hoping I haven’t blown my chances at spending the evening with her.

“Oh,” she whispers.

Her whole demeanour changes and I instantly regret bringing it up. Cassidy’s lips tremble and she plays with the ring on her forefinger. Her shoulders round down as she folds into herself, but she shuffles forward.

“I’m sorry.” I rush to take back the question. “It doesn’t matter, you don’t have to answer.”

She shakes her head, looking up with glistening eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” she says slowly. “It’s the only meal I can remember my mum cooking. When she left, I started making it for Madison. It reminds me of the good times.”

I know enough of her family history to know I hit a sore spot. Reaching out, I take her hands in mine, allowingher enough freedom to keep playing with the ring. Instead, she loops her fingers through mine and squeezes.

“It’s okay.”

I step closer, wondering if I can envelop her in a hug. I want to. I want to do more than that, but I won’t. Not again. Not until we are both ready. She steps in, too, and I take my chance, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into me. Squeezing tight, I’m reminded of all the times I used to comfort her. All the times she needed a parent and never had one. Her runaway mother and her deadbeat dad let her down far too many times.

“Maisie is in bed. Do you want to come watch a movie?”

Cassidy steps back, her face going bright red. I cringe, remembering the last time we did that. For the second time tonight, I want to take back the words right after they have left my mouth. I stutter, not knowing what to say to turn this around. Instead of retreating, Cassidy slaps me on the shoulder with a laugh before leaning into my ear.

“I promise I won’t climb into your lap this time,” she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.

Her breath hits my pulse point and sends sparks down my back. Blood rushes south at the reminder of the last time we were this close.

“I wouldn’t hate it if you did, Rogue.”

Cassidy follows close behind me, and there is nothing stopping my erection when she makes herself comfortable on my couch. The faded fabric of her dress stretches over her breasts and gathers around her legs. My fingers tingle, daring to imagine how delicate the skin of her inner thighs would be.

This is exactly how we should be. Together.

“Thank you, for today,” Cassidy starts.

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