Page 13 of His Curvy Happiness
“I’m so sorry. Were you hurt? Did I scratch you?”
I shook my head, my voice finally catching up with my brain. “I’m good. Sorry. I… I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m always covered in dirt, so clearly I’m not going to worry about a little water.” That light sparkled in his eyes as he smiled. Little lines appeared next to his eyes, like he was someone who enjoyed laughing and did it freely.
I breathed a laugh, appreciating the fact that he was not yelling at me for making a mess. “Thank you. I’ll just—” I reached for the tower again.
“Don’t worry about it. I can take care of it in a few minutes.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”
“Things happen. As long as you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Yes. I’m good. I’m fine.” I stood, nearly hitting another tower. “I’m going to go before I ruin your entire store. I’m so sorry.”
“No big deal. I promise.”
“Yep. Okay. Thanks. Bye!” I clutched my bag to my side and hurried toward the door, getting as far from Landon and his too-tempting eyes as possible.
Too bad his eyes weren’t the only tempting part of him.
4
I made it home before the bus, my cheeks still flaming at the way I’d behaved. Landon. Shit. Listening to him talk was hypnotic. I could have stood there all day. The way he described flowers as if they were erotic.
I fanned my face. I could not think about him like that. I couldn’t think about him at all.
Reegan wasn’t a good friend, but we had friends in common. They were a couple everyone expected to get back together, eventually. After three years together, they were enmeshed in each other’s lives. It was inevitable that they would work it out.
It didn’t matter that it had been a year since they broke up. I was not wading into the middle of that.
Plus, I didn’t want a relationship.
A fling would be?—
No! No. I could not think about a fling with Landon. He wasn’t really available. And I was too old for him.
The bus rumbled down the road toward the building, giving me the distraction I needed to pay attention to what really mattered. My daughter.
When we moved into the apartment, Mikayla was embarrassed. She hated we had to give up the house we’d lived in since she was a baby. I felt the same, but I couldn’t afford it on my own, and Kyle didn’t want to stay there. Before we were even officially separated, he’d found someone to live with, so selling the house meant he had money in the bank and I had money to pay for Mikayla and me for a while.
After a year in the apartment, she was getting used to living here and liked it. I had a suspicion her favorite part was that she got off the bus without me being outside and had her own key to get into the building.
She didn’t have to know I watched from the window and rushed to the kitchen and pretended to be casual by the time she made it to our apartment.
“I’m home!” Mikayla called as she walked into the apartment.
I emerged from the kitchen, wiping my dry hands on a dishtowel. “Hi, honey. How was your day?”
“It was so good. I got to sing the solo in chorus today, and Mr. Johnson said I should try out for the lead in the school musical next week!” Her smile lit up her entire face, her blue eyes sparkling with joy.
“Wow! That’s amazing. If anyone knows, it’s your chorus teacher. When are the auditions?”
“Thursday. You have to sign my paper so I can do it. And you have to pick me up from school because there’s no bus.”
“I have to pick you up?” I did mental gymnastics as I processed what that would mean.
“Yeah, but you’re always home anyway, so what difference does it make?”
