Page 118 of The Plan

“Okay, but today is different.” He takes his hand in mine, spinning my ring. I look down at our hands, then up at him, and he looks like he wants to tell me something, but before he can, Isa walks in.

“I’m ready!” She’s not ready because her hair is a mess, and her leotard isn’t tucked into her tutu.

“Where are your shoes?” I lightly chuckle when I notice she’s barefoot and is sliding her feet along the floor. They’re probably slippery because of her stockings.

“Can’t find them.” She shrugs and turns her cute little head to the side. “It’s okay. We take off our shoes sometimes.” I look over at Sire, and he’s shaking his head with a smile.

“You can’t—” He lets out a breath, not bothering to explain to the four-year-old in front of us that she can’t just walk outside barefoot. “Just look for your shoes, please.” She walks off while sliding her feet along the floor, and I hold back a laugh.

“You’re really going to leave me alone with her all day?” he teases.

“Jackson left her to you, so yes.” I honestly don’t mind staying with her, but I have a lot of patients to see today and a meeting, as I said.

“I wanted to spend the day with you. Today is—”

“I left my shoes at home!” Isabelle interrupts him once again, and she sounds petrified, as if she wasn’t okay with not having them a minute ago.

“They’re in your bag, Isa.” We both look over the counter as she walks to her bag.

“I found them!” I lightly laugh at her as she lets out a relieved breath and dramatically wipes her forehead.

“What were you going to say today is?” Before he can reply, my alarm goes off, telling me I have ten minutes to leave before I’m late. “Shit, I need to go get ready.” I walk off to get dressed but don’t miss the regretful look Sire gives me, so I stop.

“What is it?” He shakes his head and gives me a reassuring smile.

“I’ll tell you later. Go get ready.” With that, I walk off.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sire

After dropping Isa off atballet, I drove back to my place. Before walking into my apartment, I glance at August’s door.

I think for a second if I want to go over. After that feeling I got to drink on the way here, I realize I need to talk to him. Before I change my mind, I walk over.

His door is unlocked once again, so I walk right in. I glance around his living room, but he isn’t in sight. “Yo!” A second goes by before he replies.

“In here!” I follow his voice to his room. He’s sitting at the mirror, taking his braids out. “Can you help me with this one? I think I made a knot.” I smile at how nervous he sounds, and I make my way over.

I start detangling his hair, and when I steal a glance at him in the mirror, he looks scared, so I decide to mess with him. “Um...” His fear grows, and I bite back a smile. “I think you’re going to have to cut it.”

His eyes widen, and his hands shoot up as he tries to undo the knot he created. “No, no, no.” His voice is panicked as he runshis fingers through his hair, trying to find the knot, and I finally break into a laugh. When he notices I was joking and already brushed his tangled hair, he lets out the biggest sigh of relief.

“Please don’t fuck with me like that,” he pleads, and I let out another laugh. I think he loves his hair more than his life.

I lean against the wall as he continues taking his braids down. I keep my eyes on him, kind of amazed by how focused he is. August can’t stay still for more than a minute, but when it comes to his hair, his ADHD makes him hyperfixate.

After about a minute or two, he glances over at me and then looks around for something. “Where’s Isabelle?” I tell him I dropped her off at ballet, and he looks almost offended. “And you didn’t bring her over to say hi to me?!”

“We were running late,” I explain. He nods once, and then his eyes light up like he remembers something.

“I think I should do ballet.” He watches me carefully for my reaction, but I don’t give him one since I’m no longer surprised by the shit that comes out of his mouth.

“Sure, August.” My tone is bored, but a smile grows on his face, and he nods again, happy with my approval for whatever reason.

“Why don’t you seem more excited?”

“That you want to start ballet like a four-year-old girl?”

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