Page 63 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
He chuckles and I gasp when he swoops down and presses a kiss to my cheek. Before I can scold him for it, he lets himself out and the door clicks closed behind him.
Bracing my hands on the counter, I shake my head and try to get rid of the feeling of warmth spreading through my body.
Damn him.
CHAPTER 19
HARLOW
“She broke her arm?” Poppy exclaims once the morning rush has died down and I’ve had a chance to fill her and Pablo in on what happened.
“Yep.” I set about making myself an iced oat milk espresso since there currently aren’t any customers to serve.
I didn’t get much sleep last night and IwishI could blame it on being worried about Monroe and her arm, but the star of my dreams—or nightmares, I should say—was Spencer. In my dreams, he didn’t stop at kissing my cheek. His mouth moved to my lips and down my neck until he had me stripped bare in the kitchen. He hefted me up into his big arms and carried me down the hall to my room where he removed his clothes. When he sank into me it was like coming home—so sweet and so right and so fucking perfect. I woke up panting, my underwear damp, and my body on the verge of an orgasm.
“I can’t believe Hot Daddy let that happen,” she snipes. “Did you rip him a new one?”
“At first,” I admit, adding the oat milk to my drink and snapping the lid on before giving the cup a swirl with my wrist to mix it up. “But then I realized accidents happen and somethingsimilar could’ve just as easily happened on my watch. He was torn up about it. I didn’t need to add to that.”
Poppy shakes her head. “Poor Roe.”
“She’s not fazed by it. At all.” I laugh and reach for a straw. Ripping the paper off, I stab it into my drink. The paper straw will be soggy in no time, but I can’t stand not using one. “I’m not sure anything could shake that girl.”
“She’s resilient. Like her mom.” Pablo gives my arm a squeeze as he passes with the bucket, headed to the back to fill with ice.
“Do you think she’ll let me sign her cast?” Poppy asks, popping her gum.
“I’m sure she’ll request it.”
“Sweet.”
The chime dings, signaling a customer and I turn around with a ready smile plastered on my face. Spencer might be the actor, but there’s a certain amount of performance that comes with working in the service industry.
Hours later, my back aching, I head over to my parent’s house to pick up Roe. I smell like coffee, my feet are tired, and I still need to go home and make dinner and work on a paper. One day, all this will be worth it. And it’s not that it isn’t now, but I’m just so damn tired most of the time.
I pull in the driveway, and I’m tempted to text and ask my mom to send Roe out, but I haven’t seen both my parents in a while so I figure I might as well muster up some energy and say hi. It’s the least I can do for the support they’ve always offered with Roe. I can’t imagine what it felt like to have their teenage daughter announce she was pregnant, especially when they’d spent so many years worried about Willa and she’d finally gotten her transplant and was on her way to being her healthiest self.
I knock on the front door and wait for it to open.
“Oh, hey, sweetie.” My dad smiles in surprise and pulls me in for a hug. Tears nearly prick my eyes at his familiar scent. Sometimes I’m still just a little girl who needs a hug from her parents to feel better.
“Hey, Dad.” I squeeze him tight. “Where’s my little monster?”
“In the kitchen making cookies with your mom.”
“Oh, god,” I groan.
He locks up the door. “Don’t worry, your mom told her no cookies until she eats dinner. She made lasagna since you worked late, figured you might want to take it with you or eat here if you want.”
“That was nice.” Really nice. I don’t feel like cooking, and I hate to admit it, but with how I’m feeling I’d probably stoop to getting Monroe a McDonald’s Happy Meal just so I wouldn’t have to think about cooking.
“Sure, sweetie.” He squeezes my shoulder. Perry, our family golden retriever, brushes past me in greeting and I reach down to scratch his head. “You know we’re always happy to help.”
Dad disappears into the family room to sink into his favorite chair to watch the game—what game that is, I have no idea, but there’salwaysa game.
I head straight back to the kitchen and smile when I find my mom and daughter.
My parents both still look great for their age, but my mom is starting to get more than a few streaks of gray in her hair.
