The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(44)

I don’t look at Paige until she’s almost completely down the steps, but Leah, she watches the entire time, her eyes widening, and her smile growing. When I look up, I see why.

I’m pretty sure she’s done this on purpose. Paige is wearing a pink dress with matching shoes, and her hair is a perfect glow around her face. She’s holding a pink purse in her hands, and the closer she gets to Leah, the bigger my daughter’s smile becomes.

“Hey, Leah. I’m Paige. We met once, at your dad’s work?” she says, kneeling down so she can look Leah in the eyes.

“I remember,” Leah says, her voice soft. She’s swaying side-to-side, her teeth pinning her lips in a forever kind of smile.

“Can I come to the park with you today?” Paige asks, peering up at me for approval. I give her a thumbs up.

“Yes,” Leah says, her swaying picking up speed. I hold my hand against her side to calm her. She’s excited.

I urge Leah toward the door, and Paige and I follow. Leah runs ahead, climbing into the backseat of my car and buckling herself quickly in her booster seat. Paige waits for me while I lock the front door, and I catch a glimpse of pink as she twists behind me. I think she wants me to notice her, to say something. I laugh once under my breath when I catch her hand on her purse as I turn. The woman even painted her nails pink.

“Thanks,” I say, nodding my head toward her. “You have just replaced Santa Claus on the hierarchy of cool people in Leah’s life.”

Paige beams, satisfied; she pulls the edge of her dress out a little, bending her knees in a curtsy. “What girl doesn’t want to be Barbie?” she smiles. I notice her soft lips—they are perfect, too. Her lips—that’s something I shouldn’t notice. Those aren’t part of the costume. Those are just…her. And I’ve been looking at them for too long; I look down quickly and begin patting my pockets.

“Damn, keys…” I say, and a second later I feel Paige tug on my thumb, where the key ring is linked. Yeah, that was lame. I shrug, signaling that I’m a dumb-ass, then I let her walk to the car in front of me, so I can watch without her catching me. I’m starting to think Leah isn’t the one who needs to get used to our new roommate—I am.

We get to the park in minutes, and Leah warms up to Paige almost immediately, pulling her to the swings to push her, then dragging her to the slides to watch her race up and down. When she tries to talk Paige into helping her fill water cups to dump in the sand, Paige waves her hand in front of her face and says she’s getting a little warm and tired, and Leah lets her off the hook. She joins me on the bench while Leah runs from the drinking fountain to the sand and back again.

“Hey, thanks for being her playmate today. That’s usually my gig, but she seemed pretty emphatic about you doing it today,” I say, glancing at her as she sits next to me. She lifts her arms and pulls her hair into a pile on top of her head, exposing her neck—I look at that too.

She turns her head to the side to face me, and I adjust quickly, meeting her eyes. No, Paige…I wasn’t looking at your neck, or thinking about kissing it.

“I was going to walk through campus later, find my classes. What time is your mom making dinner? I don’t want to be late,” she says.

“We usually eat early, probably around five thirty,” I say.

“That should work,” she says, looking forward, picking up her hair again, and I watch. Her fingers move slowly through her hair, wrapping strands around knuckles. It’s such a simple movement, but damn—it’s kind of sexy.

“Stop it!” a voice yells. A voice. A voice! Leah’s voice! I get to my feet, out of my trance fast, and I storm into the sand, but Paige is already ahead of me, her pink shoes kicked off in the grass. I slow my step as Paige has her hand around a little boy’s wrist, a full cup of water in his hand, which is hovering above Leah.

“Owwww, Mommy!” the boy is yelling, twisting his neck over his shoulder. I walk toward Leah and give her my hand to help her up, letting Paige take over the role of bad cop. Another woman rushes to the sand and grabs Paige’s arm, jerking it away from the boy.

“Get your hands off my kid!” the woman practically spits at Paige. Paige doesn’t flinch, instead taking a step toward the woman, leaning in close, her hands on her hip.

“You should teach your kid how to treat girls. This little creep was going to pour water all over her. He was teasing her; I saw the whole thing!” Paige is seething. I feel Leah clutch my leg and I look down at her, worried she’s scared. She’s smiling. She’s watching Paige stand up to someone, and she’s grinning ear-to-ear.

“I should have you arrested!” the woman yells as Paige is turning to walk away. She flips around quickly, stopping at the edge of the sand where she bends down to pick up her shoes, then spins with them dangling from one hand.

“Yeah, well I should have punched you in the nose. So touché,” she says, turning back to me. Her lips are in a hard, straight line, and she passes Leah and me, walking straight to the car. We follow, and Leah skips ahead, climbing in the back seat to reach around from behind to hug Paige. I pause at the front of the car to watch, noting the initial surprise on Paige’s face at the feel of tiny hands around her neck. That shock slides into a proud grin, and she brings her hand up to squeeze Leah’s, patting it once. When she looks up at me, she drops the smile quickly, then looks down at her lap.