Page 51 of From Nowhere

“That look isn’t nothing.”

Maren’s gaze focuses in the direction of the restroom. “You made sure no one was hiding in the restroom.”

“I did.”

She slowly nods, shifting her attention to me. “You’re fueling my fire,” she whispers. “Every text. Every word. Every glance. Every touch.”

“Should I do something to extinguish you?” I smirk.

Again, she watches for Lola. “You should burn with me.”

Fuck me . . .

My mind reels, plotting, planning, desperately searching for a solution. I have to take Lola home and wait for her to go to bed. Then I can ride my bike to Maren’s. That’s another twenty-five minutes. Will her roommates be there?

Then it hits me. This is what she’s talking about. Right now, this desperate need to touch, kiss, and feel every inch of herisburning with her.

Misery loves company.

“Do you have hand sanitizer, Dad? The bathroom was out of soap,” Lola announces, returning to the table.

I shake my head. “Sorry, it’s in my backpack, but I didn’t bring it.”

“I’ve got you.” Maren digs a small bottle from her purse and sprays it in Lola’s cupped hands.

I was all talk at work with Ira because I don’t like borrowing trouble. But she wasn’t wrong. Maren has a high-risk job. Is it fair to bring someone into Lola’s life who could be ripped away from her like Brynn was? Could my heart handle falling for another woman only to lose her?

“Are you a mechanic like my dad?”

“No. I’m a pilot—a firefighter. I help control wildfires by dumping a special retardant onto them from a plane. Your dad keeps my plane in tip-top shape.” Maren winks at me.

I so badly want to kiss her again.

“That’s a cool job.”

Maren nods. “It is.”

“Is it scary?”

“I’d say it’s more exciting than scary. I get to feel like a bird in the sky.”

“Have you ever crashed?” Lola asks.

Jesus.

“I have not.” Maren doesn’t miss a beat.

Lola picks at her food, her face tense, like she’s formulating her next question.

“Why don’t you finish up, Lola? We need to get you home. Tomorrow is a school day.”

“I am. I am. I am. Besides, it’s almost summer break.”

Maren snickers, wiping her mouth, and I rest my hand on her leg, knowing that Lola can’t see it. She slides her hand over mine, interlacing our fingers and moving my hand a few inches higher and toward her inner thigh.

I clear my throat, adjusting in my seat because I’m getting an erection. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this sort of intimate contact with a woman.

My old friend has impeccable timing—three feet from my daughter, minutes before I have to climb onto a bicycle and ride home.

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