Page 102 of Biggest Player
Not that she has to find out about my conversation with Trent, but I was an idiot when I told Landon about it because saying the words out loud somehow made it feel sordid?
“We’re just friends and she knows it. Deep down inside she knows this isn’t the real deal,” I mutter to myself.
How could she? I am a grown child!
“Now is not the time to grow a conscience.” I shrug off the angel on my shoulder—he has no place here. I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Dex!” a voice calls to me, and I see Wyatt flying toward me, braids flapping behind her as she beelines toward the column where I stand.
“Hey, Wyatt.” I return her enthusiasm, though it may not quite reach my eyes. Too much on my mind for that.
I try to shake it off ...
“Hello, Mommy,” I say to Margot.
She scowls. “Don’t do that.”
“Too soon?” I chuckle.
“Uh—yeah.” She laughs, though, shooting her gaze at her daughter.
Whoops.
Guess I shouldn’t be making innuendos in front of the kid. She’s too smart. In fact, her beady little gaze is bouncing between her mom and me, back and forth, back and forth until I clear my throat.
Busted.
“Who’s ready to have fun?”
Wyatt’s arm shoots in the air enthusiastically, as if she were raising her hand at school. She waves it around for good measure.
“I cannotwaitto climb this wall. There’s nothing I want more,” Margot deadpans, and I can’t decide if she’s being sarcastic or not, so I ignore her tone.
I tilt my head.
Goddamn, she’s cute even when she’s being a shithead.
Margot is dressed in one of those ways chicks dress when they try to look like they made no effort in their appearance but took a ridiculous amount of time to make it look like they made no effort in their appearance.
Leggings. T-shirt with a college logo. Sneakers.
Fanny pack.
My brows go up atthatchoice.
I’ve taken the liberty of getting us registered and have the waivers ready for Margot to sign. All that’s left is introducing ourselves to the climbing instructor, who is so granola he doesn’t recognize me, and if he does, he clearly does not give a shit.
He is so. Into. Rock climbing.
Nerd.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom before we get started,” Margot announces, giving her daughter one of those looks my mother used to give me when I was young. It says “Behave while I’m gone.”
I watch her walk off, sidestepping several people along the way, as the place is moderately busy.
As soon as her mother is out of sight, Wyatt whirls toward me, eyes wide. “You know what we should do?”
She is wasting no time.
