Page 138 of A Little Crush
On shaky legs, I reach for my purse on the kitchen counter, sliding it onto my shoulder while trying to ignore Poppy’s wails no matter how much it kills me.
Dodging her flapping arms, Jaxon kisses her on the forehead. “Love you, Pops. We’ll be home soon. I promise.”
Tears well in my eyes as I fight the urge to grab Poppy from Mack and never let go, even when I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt more torn in my entire life. How do parents do this? How do they leave their babies? How do they shut off the voice inside their head screaming at them to pull them close and never let them go? But the worst part? The worst part is that I don’t know if it’s my OCD rearing its ugly head or if the instinct is real and shouldn’t be ignored. And what if itisreal and Idoignore it? I’d never forgive myself. And it’s not that I don’t trust Uncle Macklin. I do. I trust him asmuch as I would my own dad, but still. This is…this is torture. And what if?—
A warm hand touches my lower back, and I glance up at Jaxon.
“She’s okay,” he murmurs.
She’s okay.
She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay.
Holding onto his words like they’re a lifeline, I shove my irrational fears aside and lift my quivering hand to drag it over Poppy’s wispy blonde hair before leaning in for a quick kiss. “Love you, Pops.” A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow past it. “Like your daddy said, we’ll be…we’ll be home soon, okay?”Breathe. “I promise.”
Jaxon reaches for my hand, tugging us into the waiting elevator. Once the door closes behind us, he leans against the rail, and I tuck my arms around me, digging my fingers into my bare skin to keep from giving into my compulsion and tapping against my thigh. Even then, it doesn’t stop the carousel of thoughts circling through me. What if they’re on the balcony and Macklin trips and she falls over the edge? What if she finds something on the ground and chokes on it? What if he forgets she’s there and trips over her, breaking her or arm or leg? What if he steps on her head? I know it would be an accident, but?—
Stop!
“I can’t decide if what I just did in there was a mistake or not,” Jaxon announces.
“Hmm?” I look up, finding his attention on me.
He gives me a sad but reassuring smile. “You know I always love taking you on dates, but you look about as excited as a woman on her deathbed. You okay?” He moves closer and brushes a stray tear from my cheek, spreading the moisture between his thumb and forefinger as if inspecting it. “I’ll take this as a no.”
Batting his hand away, I sniffle pathetically. “I just…I hate to see her sad.”
“Me, too.” His focus moves to the closed elevator door, and I realize he hasn’t pushed the button to the main floor yet. “Do you want us to bring her?” he asks. “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something and figured a night off might be good, but we can go in?—”
“No, no, no,” I rush out, no matter how appealing the idea of bringing her with us is. “Honestly, I know it’s good for her.” I wipe at my cheeks and let out a slow breath, trying to get my shit together. “To be exposed to new people and have a positive time, even if it sucks to see her sad in the beginning. And I know it’s good for me too. It’s just…the OCD is OCD-ing, and”—I force out all the air from my lungs in a short, sharp breath—“wow. I’m good. I’m good. I swear. I’m good. And I can’t go back in there. Not until after dinner. If I do, it’ll only feed my OCD and”—I take another quick but deep breath—“I’m good.”
“Come here.” As if he can’t handle witnessing my own mini-meltdown, he pulls me into his chest and rubs his hand along my spine. “I’m sorry that triggered you.”
“It’s okay. I just can’t give in.”
“We won’t,” he promises. “Although, it’s nice to see how much you care about her.”
I blindly smack his butt, offended he’d even think about assuming anything different. “Of course I care about her?—”
“I know.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “It makes this even easier.”
With a frown, I wiggle out of his hold, unsure if I heard him correctly or if I missed something thanks to being distracted by the memory of Poppy’s little cries. “Makes what easier?” I ask.
“Come on. We’ll talk at the restaurant.”
“Jaxon—”
“You know what? You’re right.” He wraps his arm around my waist again, tugging me into him and kissing the shit out of me until my head spins and my legs grow weak. It’s hot and minty and so damn commanding, I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to brand me with his lips. Then again, I wouldn’t complain. I’ve always been his. Or maybe he’s trying to distract me. It's definitely working. I open my mouth wider, and he takes full advantage, slipping his tongue into me, so I suck on it the same way I would his?—
He pulls away from me. “Careful, or we won’t make it to dinner.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I blink slowly, trying to get a handle on my libido after being blindsided by the hot as hell kiss, only to find Jaxon staring at his phone.
Really? He’s looking at his freaking phone after a kiss like that? I fight the urge to smack him all over again.
“What do you think of this one?” he asks.
“Huh?”
