Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

QUINN

"How come you don't live with your mommy?"

My feet catch on the sidewalk, Flora's unsuspecting question throwing me for a loop.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know I don't live with my mom because she's dead and my dad is in jail for being bad, but I don't understand why you don't live with your mommy if she's so amazing."

It's not the first time Flora's mentioned her parents, but it is the first time she's referenced where they are. I imagine she asked Hayes about them at some point since she seems to be very aware, but she's not talked about them with me. Not like this.

Until now, on a nice quiet walk back from the library, her little backpack full of books while she clutches a sucker the size of her head in one hand and mine in the other. Giving her so much sugar probably wasn't a good idea, but when her eyes grew to twice their size at the sight of it, I knew she had to have it.

It's exactly what my amazing mommy would have done. We've been talking every day since I walked in on her and Hayes in his kitchen. I had no idea how much I needed to hear what she said, but it gave me a renewed sense of worth.

Well, that and Hayes's words. He's been tossing a lot of compliments my way in the last week or so. If he wasn't already getting laid so often, I'd say it's because he's trying to score, but I know it's not. It's all genuine, and it makes my heart go thump thump thump just thinking about it.

"I'd live with Mrs. Bess if I could, so why don't you live with her?"

I smile. My mother would love it if Flora lived with her.

"Well, it's because I'm a grown-up, and grown-ups don't usually live with their parents."

A poor excuse for one who does bad things like sleep with her boss but is still a grown-up.

"Oh." She nods like it makes so much sense. Then she wrinkles her nose, looking up at me. "Then why do you live with me and Uncle Adam?"

Adam. Just hearing his name does something funny to my insides, especially since he makes me say it whenever I come.

I shove the totally inappropriate thought away and answer the curious child. "Because I work for your uncle and we figured with his work schedule, it would make more sense for me to live with you guys." I squeeze her hand. "Why? Do you not want me to live with you anymore? I thought we were having fun."

"Of course I do! We are having fun. I love you."

I smile. "I love you too, little flower."

"So does Uncle Adam."

I trip again. Damn these sidewalks.

"What?" I ask as I recover. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he looks at you."

"Okay?"

It comes out as a question because I don't really understand what she means.

She huffs like she's annoyed by my confusion. "When you aren't looking, Just Quinn. That's when Uncle Adam looks at you the most. He loves you."

I don't have anything to say because I don't know what to say. Hayes looks at me? And he does it enough that Flora's noticed? What does that even mean? Does it even mean anything? The lines between us have been blurred for quite some time now and even more so since Thanksgiving, but could Hayes love me?

Could I…love him ?

No. It's completely crazy.

I shake away the thought before it can develop any further, but no matter how many times I shake, it doesn't go away. I like Hayes, yes. I like spending time with him, and I like how much he makes me laugh. I like watching him with Flora and the way he takes care of her in ways she doesn't even realize, like always keeping pickles on hand for her. I like how he buys me butterscotch candy without me ever asking and how he always orders extra spring rolls because he knows I love them. I like Hayes. I like Hayes a lot.

But love him? No. It's not possible. It goes against all the rules.

So why can't I stop thinking about it? Even as we make our way back home and Flora asks for grilled cheese for dinner, it's there in my head. As I brush her hair after her shower and twist it into a braid, it still won't go away. And even when I read her a bedtime story and should be focusing on doing all the amazing voices I've come up with, it's all I can think about.

The thought doesn't leave me even when I tell her good night, or when Hayes calls from Boston like he always does when he's on the road. For the first time, I don't answer. Instead, I shoot him a text and tell him I have a headache, Flora is already in bed, and I'll talk to him tomorrow.

When I lie down and close my eyes, I'm still thinking about it, especially because loving Adam Hayes doesn't sound like such a crazy idea after all.

"I think we should do this more often."

"Have sex? Because I think we do that fairly often already."

It's true. The second he got home from his latest road trip, during which the Serpents won three of their four games, our lips locked together, and we stumbled through the house to his bedroom. It's where we've been for the past several hours.

"No. Well, I mean, yes—always that. But I mean sleep in my room. My bed is so much more comfortable than yours."

I gasp. "Hey! I worked hard to pay for that mattress."

"While I'm sure you did, that doesn't make it any more comfortable. I've even had to have our team chiropractor do some extra work on my neck."

"You could always just sleep in your own bed, you know."

He doesn't have a rebuttal for that.

He loves you.

I slip the thought right back into the box I placed it in when Flora mentioned the crazy idea a few days ago. I've been trying hard not to think about it since, but I'd be lying if I said late at night, when everyone is asleep, I don't pull it back out and mull it over and consider the fact that I just might love him, too.

"So, I noticed you were looking up colleges the other day."

I lift my head off his chest, looking down at him. "Adam Hayes, are you spying on me?"

"No." He twists his lips. "Well, sort of, but it's unintentional. You left your computer on the counter when you went to braid Flora's hair, and I was cleaning up and accidentally bumped it, and the screen booted back up."

I raise my brows at him.

"What?" he asks. "That's totally what happened."

"I'm just struggling to believe you were cleaning."

"Hey, my cleaning lady has been very impressed with the state of this house lately. She joked about wondering if her services are needed anymore. I kept her on. You're welcome for that."

I pinch his nipple, and he yelps.

"Shh!" I tell him. "Flora's sleeping."

"Then quit pinching me!"

"Quit needing pinching!"

"I didn't." He rubs at his nipple, smirking because he damn well knows he deserved that just now. " Anyway, you're still thinking about going to school, huh?"

I settle against him, loving how he grazes his fingertips over my naked back, like he's not capable of not touching me.

"It's just a thought."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why is it just a thought? Why haven't you enrolled?"

"Well, for starters, college costs money."

"So?"

"So," I say pointedly. "We're not all rich hockey players, you know."

"No, but I'm sure there are grants or loans or something you can use to get you started, then you can figure out the rest later."

That's always been my life—figuring out the rest later. For once, I don't want to do that. I want to jump in with both feet and be completely secure in what I'm doing. I want to be sure. Absolutely so.

It would be a lie if I said my siblings' words weren't still haunting me. I can't help but think about them because what if they're right? What if I fail at this too? What if I am rushing into it? What if I?—

"Stop."

"Stop what? "

"Overthinking it," Hayes says, his touch still light against me. "I know that's what you're doing. I can hear you all the way up here."

"You cannot."

"Can too."

I don't miss how he covers his nipple…just in case.

"For what it's worth," he says, "I think you should do it."

He does? "You do?"

"Yeah, I think you'd be great at it. And you'd look totally hot in those buttoned-up teacher's outfits."

I roll my eyes.

"Plus, you already have the silly earrings the kids will undoubtedly love. It's perfect for you."

"I do have some pretty amazing earrings."

"I said silly ."

I lift my hand to pinch him again, but he's too quick, covering up before I can. Damn those hockey reflexes.

His chest rumbles with a low laugh, and I can't help but smile. Sometimes, I think I like moments like these where we're lying in bed and just talking as much as I like the sex.

He loves you.

"But in all seriousness," Hayes says, distracting me before my brain can descend into overload again, "I think you'd be great, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a little biased since Flora loves you so much. I'm saying it because I mean it. I see the way you look at her when she gets an answer right on her homework or recites something you've taught her. Those hazel eyes of yours light up, and you give her a secret grin like you just did something right—and you did. You taught her. So, yeah, I think you'd be good at it, and I think you should do it. If you want to, of course."

I don't have the words. I'm too busy trying to choke down the sob that's attempting to work its way free. I have no idea why it means so much to me that Hayes supports me in this decision and thinks I can do it, but it does, and it gives me just a little more confidence that I can do this.

Maybe I should.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll re-enroll. I'll go back to school. I'm going to become a teacher."

Just saying it out loud makes my heart thunder with excitement.

"Good. I'm glad. We can figure out all the other details later."

I'm sure he means Flora and her schedule and his. We'll work on that after I know when classes will actually start .

Hayes presses his lips to my forehead. "Now that we have that settled, you need to get some sleep. I'm planning to wake you up very early with my tongue between your legs."

Who could possibly argue with that plan? I close my eyes, letting sleep wash over me.

He loves you.

This time when the thought comes, I don't push it away. I don't hide from it. I let it happen. I let it sink in.

All I can think is, I love him too.

"You're doing it wrong."

"I am not."

"You are too."

"I am not ."

"Are too."

I laugh as I watch Flora and Hayes argue back and forth while they work on building her swing set that's been sitting in pieces in the backyard for far too long now. With the weather not cooperating and Hayes's hockey schedule, it's been next to impossible to get anything done on it. So why not build a playscape outside in the middle of a random sunny Saturday in December ?

"You're supposed to put E and F together, not E and H. Don't you know your ABCs?"

"I guess not. Want to teach them to me since you're so smart?"

Flora rolls her eyes at her uncle and hands him the correct piece while I sit on the patio, sip my butterscotch hot chocolate, and enjoy the show they're putting on. They're never going to get this done, but I'm not sure I mind. I like watching them like this. I probably shouldn't be so excited to see them arguing, but it's such a far cry from where they were when I first met them that I can't help but love it.

I love him. I love her. I love them.

The thought doesn't scare me as much as it once did. It probably should, especially since I have no idea how Hayes feels, but it doesn't. For once in my life, I feel like everything is going okay. I re-enrolled in school the night after Hayes told me to. He even helped me with the forms. Sure, for every answer I filled out, he would lick my pussy, so there was definitely some incentive there, but still.

I'm officially going back to school. Again. Something about it feels different this time, like I can do it. It feels right , and I'm so excited to get started. I still have several weeks until classes start, but January can't come soon enough.

The doorbell chimes, and I rise from my chair. I let them continue arguing while I trek through the house to the front door. I pull it open and take a surprised step back.

"May I help you?"

"Hi." The gorgeous woman with long blonde hair steps forward, extending her hand. "I'm Rachel Carr. I'm here to interview for the nanny position."

Interview for the what?

"The…nanny position?"

She frowns. "I'm sorry. Do I have the wrong house? I could have sworn this is the address Mr. Hayes sent."

Mr. Hayes.

Nanny position.

What the hell is going on? Am I…getting fired? Or is this some horrible, awful prank Hayes is trying to pull?

"Oh, you're early."

I turn to find Hayes waltzing up, a smile on his face directed at the woman standing on the other side of the door.

Not at me. At her.

And man, does it make my blood boil.

"Come on in." He waves her inside. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Carr."

"Likewise," she says, stepping in, shooting me an innocent smile as she passes like she's not here to steal my job. "Thanks so much for inviting me over today. I can't wait to meet little Florence."

" Flora ," I correct. "Her name is Flora."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought Flora was short for Florence."

That doesn't even make sense!

"Nope. Just Flora."

"That's such a lovely name." She looks at me like I'm the one who named her, like I'm Flora's mother. Does this woman not realize she's here to take my job from me?

"Rachel, this is Quinn. She's?—"

"Going to go lie down. I have a horrible headache."

Hayes frowns, likely because I was just sitting outside with him and Flora and I was fine then.

That was before you brought someone here to steal my job.

I don't wait for either of them to respond before turning on my heel and racing away, hoping Hayes didn't just see the tears that are threatening to spill free. I have no idea what's going on right now, but I know one thing for certain—I'm done here.

I close my door, pressing my back up against it just as the tears spill over. I hate that I'm crying, hate that I'm feeling the way I am. But even more, I hate Hayes for blindsiding me with this.

I shove off the door, marching over to my dresser and grabbing a handful of clothes before throwing them on the bed. I'm not staying here. I can't. Not right now. Not after Hayes just brought some other woman into this home to take my job away from me, to take Flora away from me.

Wait. No. She's not mine. I know that. She's Hayes's, but I…I love her like she's mine. These last few months with her have been nothing short of spectacular. That little piece of my life that always felt like it was missing something… It was her. It was them.

And now it's all being ripped away.

I grab a bag from the closet and start shoving clothes inside. I don't even pay attention to what I'm grabbing—I just want something so I can be gone.

Gone.

Ugh, I don't even know where I'm going. I haven't thought that far ahead. But that's sort of my MO, isn't it? Just do as I please and worry about the consequences later. Like sleeping with Hayes. Now look at me—completely in love with him and crying because he's cast me aside, decided he's moving on and forgot to tell me.

When my bag is filled to the brim, I zip it up, then sling my purse over my head and march out of my room. I stop in the hall just before I reach the living room, straining to hear. I didn't really think about waltzing out of here holding my clothes and the scene that'll cause with the new nanny.

But there are no voices, just the low hum of the refrigerator. I peek around the corner, then look through the kitchen and out the large glass door leading to the backyard. Hayes is standing on the back porch, his back to the house. Rachel's out in the yard with Flora, bent down and chatting with her, laughing about something.

My chest aches watching it. That should be me out there. That should be my laugh from Flora. But I'm not out there, and that's not my laugh anymore. I thought I'd finally found somewhere I was accepted, somewhere I could be myself and that made me feel like me , somewhere that didn't make me feel like a complete mess.

But I was wrong. This isn't it. I'm being replaced. I don't belong here anymore.

I'm not sure I ever did.

As if he can sense my eyes on him, Hayes turns, staring into the house. He can't see me, tucked back into the hall like I am, and I'm glad for it. I don't want him to witness this. I just want to press my shoulders back and hold my head high and walk out of here with a bit of my pride intact.

So, that's exactly what I do. When the door clicks shut behind me, I exhale shakily and look around.

What the hell am I going to do now?