Page 54 of Trusting You

15

Carter

I left Locke and Lily at the zoo, conscious of my growing feelings for Locke and come back to a different man, conscious of what I’ve done wrong.

And I hate that.

The growing, nauseous sway resulting from the guilt over merely existing next to a person. Because that’s all I’ve done—been beside him, functioning through Lily and refusing to be regarded as a pimple growing on his chin, or worse, a freeloader.

I remember how his gang of buddies looked at me. What they think.

Paige always made fun of me for caring too much. Being too much of a people pleaser. Yet here I am, changing Lily on autopilot, my mind distracted by the guy lying on the couch in the other room, clearly in pain.

But did that give him an excuse to be a dick to me? Hell, no. And as soon as I finish wiping one human’s bum, I’m not about to kiss another.

The meeting at the cafe went well enough. I was lucky Pierce, the owner, was open to another artist. I was even luckier to have Pierce express interest in the artwork, a few pieces of which I showed him on my phone. I was lucky Locke took pity on me and let me stay for a while longer with Lily.

This past week, I’ve been really lucky.

Maybe, it’s time for it to run out.

“Baby,” I whisper, and pull Lily close so I can smell her sweet smell. She coos, grabbing for my hair.

Laughing, I pull back. “When are you gonna talk to me, huh? Or grow some teeth?”

She grins at me, displaying her full, pink, toothless mouth.

“God, I love you.” I hold her tight until she demands I don’t and balance her on the floor, taking her hands.

“How ‘bout we show Dad your catwalk?”

“Ahbahdahba.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Keeping a hold on her like a puppeteer, I prop the nursery door open with my foot while Lily and I toddle out.

We come into view before Locke notices, and I take in his dark frown, his thousand-yard stare into the wall, and I want to know everything he’s thinking.

Does he regret having me here? Is he gearing up to ask me to leave?

“Hey, Dad,” I say with forced cheer.

Reluctantly, Locke uses his neck, but when he lands on Lily, she can’t help but crack through his barriers.

“Look at you!” he says, propping himself up. He covers it well, but I notice the grimace and wonder, again, why he won’t take any medicine for it.

“Walk to Daddy,” I say to Lily, and let go.

Tentatively, she takes a few steps and watching Locke’s face go from depressed to brooding to ecstatic, I want to kick myself for not showing him sooner.

“She’s got her sea legs!” he says, and claps when Lily does. “C’mere, little sputnik.”

She screeches and walks faster, then topples to her hands and knees.

“Whoops,” Locke says.

It pains him, but he moves his legs off the couch, then gets onto the ground with her, worsening the strain.