My throat hitched. “I’m lucky to work with them.”
The kids. The teens. That was another reminder. My focus was on the next generation. Not on me. Not on my needs. I had to keep my blinders on and concentrate on helping the kids who needed me, not sowing any wild oats.
My mom hummed, staring at me quizzically. “You seem different. Are you okay? Did you meet a nice man tonight?”
She was a bloodhound. She could sense anything.
Probably the shift in my mood. Or maybe she was reading my mind.
I laughed her off, hoping to throw her off the scent. “Yes, Mom. I put the moves on all sorts of men tonight at the fundraiser. I was like Tinder, swiping back and forth. Now, get to work.” I shooed her to the door. “You’re going to be late for your shift. You have fifteen minutes to get to the hospital.”
My mom fixed me with a stare. “I want details of your Tinder quest.”
I scoffed. “Mom. There are no details. I was joking.”
Mostly.
Her gaze said This conversation isn’t over, missy, and I rolled my eyes. “I love you, but you need to skedaddle. Thank you again.”
“Anytime,” she said, and walked out. But in two seconds, she propped the door back open and held up a finger. “And ‘anytime’ means if you want a booty call with these guys, you know where to find me. Because I’ve got some flesh-eaters to destroy with my grandson.”
“I’m not having any booty calls, but thank you for the generous offer,” I said, then shut and locked the door and walked down the hall to check on my son.
Alex was sound asleep, curled up under the covers, air conditioning rattling loudly in his pigsty bedroom. His dark hair was a wild mess and would be sticking up in all directions in the morning. I bent down and dropped a quick kiss on his forehead.
“Night, sleepy boy,” I said, then left his room and returned to the living room, where I sank down on the couch.
And wished.
Wished my life were different.
Wished I’d made smarter choices once upon a time.
Wished I hadn’t stayed so long with a man who’d been a mistake.
My throat hitched.
And another stupid lump lodged.
I was such a fool.
I’d been so caught up.
I had to be better now. Smarter now. I had to protect myself and my son.
My past gnawed at me and vexed me. Nagged and twisted away at my heart. But my mind tripped back in time again to that almost kiss.
I played it again.
And again.
And, holy hell, once more.
This was a problem.
Maybe a distraction would stop the memories of tonight from sneaking up on me. Leaning forward, I grabbed the game controller from the coffee table and turned on the TV. Lowering the volume so as not to wake my son, I proceeded to blast through a town of the infected, quickly clearing several blocks of zombies as night fell in video-game land. When a flesh-eater appeared out of nowhere, I panicked.
“You need to run away.”
Pausing the game, I leaned my head back and looked up at Alex, my heart expanding in my chest, growing two sizes bigger. My boy. “I do?”
With his rumpled hair, basketball shorts, and gray T-shirt, he walked around the couch and parked himself next to me. “Yeah, you don’t have to fight the super zombies every time. If you successfully run away from them, you can level up your agility skills.”
“My agility skills suck,” I admitted with a smile, loving every second of our chats, then added, “Why are you up?”
“Had to pee. Is that a crime?”
I deadpanned an answer. “Not that I’m aware of. I’ll let you know if that changes though.”
Alex laughed and grabbed the controller. “I’ll show you how to run away from the zombies,” he said, turning the game back on and demonstrating his speed and skill in evading the enemy. “Now, we just need to get back to the safe house.”
“So does this count if you’re playing for me?”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m like your pinch hitter.”
“When we enter the Xbox tournament, can you just fill in for me when I get in a pickle?”
“If there’s a tournament and you’re holding out on letting me play in it, you’re in big trouble,” he said as he attacked bad guys on the screen, then yawned ferociously.
“And that means it’s back to bed for you, young man.”
He huffed, but a yawn broke through again. “Okay, you might be right.” He thrust the controller into my hand. “Try not to get killed before you get back to the safe house.”
“I’ll do my best. See you in the morning, sleepyhead,” I said, and I could barely contain a grin. A simple conversation. It was everything.
“See you in the morning,” he echoed, and returned to his room.
A few minutes later, I flicked off the game. Late-night encounters like that—random, casual, exceedingly normal—had a way of settling my nerves and calming my heart. Things were back to business as usual with Alex, and I was so damn grateful for that.
I headed to my bathroom and scrubbed off all my makeup, staring at the calligraphy T tattooed on my wrist. T for my roller derby name. Titanium. Strength. Unbreakable strength. I dried my face and brushed out my hair, but I didn’t feel as strong as metal.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Colin.
The last time I’d been caught up in a man like this, I’d nearly made myself sick. I’d barely slept. Plagued by insomnia, haunted by memories, by broken vows and fights. By this time will be different pleas.
But Colin wasn’t like my ex, I tried to remind myself.
Colin Sloan—tall, tatted, tempting, witty, and forthright. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him, and when he touched me tonight . . . it had been a pure rush.
He was different from my ex. He wasn’t an asshole. And as a social worker, I knew people could change. Colin had done everything my ex hadn’t. He’d kicked his habit and was living a new life. I left the bathroom, and as I flopped down on my bed, shoving a hand through my hair, I wondered if I could have a little something.
I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I’d taken ten thousand chances with the father of my child, and we’d nearly destroyed our son. All those chances had ripped my life to shreds, and I’d finally put the pieces back together in the last year.
But what if Colin and I were ready to spend more time together?
Away from the center.
As friends.
That wouldn’t be a broken promise, would it?
Surely there was nothing wrong with that—with a normal friendship.
I’d maintain my boundaries. Only friendship. Nothing more. That wouldn’t destroy life as I knew it.
I picked up my phone and texted Colin.
8
Colin
Nothing like a late-night workout to get your mind off a woman. I powered through a five-mile run on the treadmill as the clock ticked well past midnight. Pushing myself harder because I was training for the Badass Triathlon in a month, and I was determined to conquer that beast of an event after two failed attempts.
Just another mile.
I zeroed in on my goal, pushing, running, reaching.
When I finished, I slapped the off button, my breath coming fast as I hopped off the treadmill, grateful for always-open gyms.