Page 20 of Let You Love Me

Not a total lie.

“I don’t know why you bought that place,” my father grumbles. “You have a perfectly good roof over your head here. What are your mother and I gonna do with all this space by ourselves, huh?”

I grin. Dad didn’t support my purchase of the lake house. Not because he thought it was a bad investment, but because he wants me to move out about as much as he wants a hole in the head.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, unable to help my smile, “walk through the living room without stepping on a Lego for once? Enjoy being able to watch something other than cartoons during the day?”

“I like cartoons during the day,” he grumps. “Who’s going to give me my shoulder rubs?”

“Dad, Sophie has the grip of a gnat.”

“And how am I going to have an excuse to eat fruit snacks if she’s not here? You know your mother won’t buy any of that shit once she’s gone.”

I fight a smile as I step forward and press a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Dad, we’ll only be ten minutes away. We’ll still visit, have dinners on the weekend, and you can stop by anytime you want. And, hey, since I’m taking this internship, I’ll see you all the time.”

“During the season, anyway.” He purses his lips. “I know your reasons for wanting to move out, and I may not like it, but I respect it. Can’t say I’m not proud.”

I swallow over the thickness in my throat. His words are what every child, especially one who’s screwed up in the past, wants to hear from their parents. After I discovered I was pregnant, I thought I’d failed them. At the very least, I wrote myself off as being a huge disappointment, so knowing I can still make them proud, even after I’ve made mistakes, fills my heart with joy. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Only speaking the truth. I’ll tell Reid you accepted the spot. Drop by and fill out the paperwork tomorrow, then start Wednesday. That gives you a couple days to get Sophie registered at the CU day care.”

I nod as my phone pings, interrupting us, but when I check it, I see a text from a number I don’t recognize and frown.

I swipe it open, prepared to delete it when my stomach leaps into my throat.

Unknown:

What’s the minimum amount of time you have to wait before you can text a girl you’re interested in without looking desperate or uncool? Asking for a friend.

Teagan.

I almost forgot about giving him my number, too distracted by the conversation with my father.

I bite my lip, fighting the smile threatening to split my face in two. Part of me is shocked Teagan’s already reached out. This boy is a charmer, and I’m not sure what to make of it or his interest in me. It’s not like I met him in class when I was alone. He knows I have a child, yet he’s interested, anyway.

I don’t know whether to be thrilled or skeptical, which is probably why I feel a little bit of both.

“What’s got you looking so chipper?” Dad asks.

I glance up at him to find him staring and realize I’m smiling at my phone like a dope.

“Oh. Uh, nothing.” I drop my smile. “Just someone from school.” I hook a thumb toward the hall. “I better check on Soph.”

I stare down at my phone, unsure if I should respond and what to say if I did. It’s not like I have a ton of experience with men. I went from dating a little the first couple years in high school to falling in love—or what I thought was love—and getting pregnant. Whatever flirting skills I had are poorly developed at best and have long since dried up. Besides, now that I’m back home, the reality of my situation comes crashing in like a tsunami.

I can’tactuallydate him even if I want to.

Earlier, I was on a high. A cute, flirtatious boy was interested. But now, I’m stone-cold sober. I have a daughter. I’m far too busy to date, and even if I weren’t, I’m in a completely different phase of life than your average college student.

Most kids my age are only worried about their grades and which party they plan on attending over the weekend.

I’m worried about my mortgage, a leaking roof, and potty training.

Which is precisely why I shouldn’t add him to my contacts, yet I find myself entering his name, anyway.

I’m still smiling when I enter the living room to find Sophie asleep on the couch. The sight of her so innocent and peaceful tugs on my heart, even if her napping so late in the day means she’ll be up later tonight.

Deciding to take advantage of the rare time alone, I climb the stairs to retrieve the new romance novel I started the other night instead of catching up with laundry like I should.