Page 24 of Make Your Shot
“Can I have one before bed, Daddy?” Tella questions me, tugging on my hand again.
“Of course,” I smile at her, patting the top of her head.
“Can I watch TV?”
“Yep,” I say, nodding at her. “Take off your apron first, though.”
Tella pulls the string, whips it off over her head, and tosses it onto the chair at the counter before disappearing into the living room.
I slowly spin on my heel to face Mia. “I hope she was good for you.”
“Oh, yes,” she says, a smile stretching across her lips as she nods eagerly. “She’s a little spitfire, but she’s fun. She really is a great kid and I enjoy hanging out with her.”
I stare at Mia, my eyes slowly bouncing back and forth between hers before trailing up to the flour on her forehead. “You have a bit of flour on your face,” I tell her, wiping my own forehead to show her.
She rolls her lips between her teeth, lifting her handto wipe it away. “Did I get it?” she asks me as she brushes half of it away.
“There’s still a little bit there.”
Mia wipes at it again, missing once more, leaving the tail end of the streak just above her eyebrow. “How about now?”
I shake my head, closing the distance between us. The room shrinks as I enter her space, my toes nearing closer to hers. She tilts her head back to look at me. My heart stumbles over itself, my breath quickening as I lift my hand to the side of her face. She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, her nostrils flaring as I run the pad of my thumb just above her eyebrow. Her eyes fall closed at my touch.
A shiver trails down my spine as I brush away the flour, her skin warm and soft beneath my fingertip. Mia releases her lip as my touch moves down her cheek to her jaw and lingers there, her lips parting slightly as a ragged breath escapes her. My throat bobs as I swallow hard, the muscle in my jaw tightening.
“There,” I murmur, my voice low and hoarse as my hand lingers along the side of her face. Her eyes slowly search mine and I pick out the three flecks of amber in her left eye, peppered around her dilating pupil. I could get lost in her gaze.
The timer on the stove begins to beep, ripping me away from the moment. I drop my hand in a rush, and take two large steps away from her in a rush. Confusion and conflict engulf me. Mia’s eyes are wide and she spins on her heel, grabbing an oven mitt from thecounter. I turn away from her, my cheeks puffing out as I blow out a slow breath.
Mia is six years younger than me.
She is my nanny and her father is my coach.
There are so many things that are wrong about this moment, but most importantly...
She’s not Amelia.
I swore I’d never replace her.
Tella comes sprinting into the kitchen, sliding across the floor in her fuzzy socks and stops beside Mia. “They smell so good. Can I have mine now?”
“Not yet,” Mia tells her, her voice barely audible over the sound of the blood rushing through my veins. “I have to go, but your daddy can cut them after they cool a bit.”
I haven’t slept with anyone since Amelia. I tried dating last year and it was an absolute disaster. It’s only human and natural to feel lonely, to feel the deprivation of the comfort of another, but what the fuck is wrong with me?
I slowly turn back around to face Mia and Tella, guilt flooding me as I catch the look on Mia’s face. There’s embarrassment etched in her features, but there’s something else lingering beneath it. The inside corners of her eyebrows are turned downwards and she gives me that stare again, with her eyes round and soft.
“Mia.” My voice is strained as I speak her name. I clench my teeth together as a myriad of emotions rush through me. I’m so goddamn conflicted, but this can’t happen. I willnotlet this happen. “Thank you for watching T. I’ve got it from here.”
Her throat bobs and she gives me a curt nod. “I just need to grab my bag.”
“Okay. We will see you tomorrow.”
She stares back at me, her expression void of any emotion as she straightens her spine. “Have a good night.”
She drops her gaze from mine, skirting past me as she heads toward the hallway. Just as she’s about to step through the doorway, I find myself glancing over my shoulder at her, calling out after her.
“Mia.”
