Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(78)

“When does she close on her house?”

“Two weeks or so, I think. Not really sure.” I glanced back at the microwave clock. “Not much longer, kiddo. Bedtime soon.”

“No. Play.”

“Yeah, mommy. We want to play.”

“Really, Mal?”

“What? I’m just trying to help the man out and get him some more time.”

“Are you going to help me out when he’s cranky from not getting enough sleep?”

Malcolm threw up his hands in defeat and went back to playing with Shawn, which was where most of his attention had been all night. It was more than just him playing with Shawn; it felt like a distraction. He’d not been acting like himself from the moment he arrived. No flirty, suggestive comments. No closeness or attempts to touch me. Hell, he’d seemed almost reluctant to come over when I’d invited him to dinner.

I knew we were at a strange place when he dropped me off yesterday. He’d planned a whole night out, one I’d managed to screw up. We’d talked, and I thought—well I wasn’t sure what I thought—but I felt like it’d been resolved. I’d tried to make sure he understood my reaction wasn’t about him directly. Our relationship seemed to be in a near constant state of change. I didn’t know what I expected, but I never imagined it’d be awkward all the time. Being friends with him was easy. We just worked. I didn’t have to think about it, and I didn’t have to worry about doing or saying something wrong. But now there was so much at stake.

I finished off my glass of wine and resisted the urge to refill it. Watching Malcolm play with my son, while barely acknowledging my presence, raked on my already sensitive nerves.

“I’m going to take him up now.”

“All right. Guess I’ll head out then.”

I picked up Shawn, who instantly started throwing a fit, trying to wiggle out of my arms. “Can you wait a minute?”

Mal checked his watch. It wasn’t late, close to eight, but I was taking away his distraction so he was ready to bolt.

“Yeah, sure.”

It took me longer to get Shawn down. He fought hard against going to bed, knowing Malcolm was here. When I got back downstairs, Malcolm sat on the couch, looking like he’d been called into the principal’s office. I noticed he’d put away the toys, and Shawn’s books were stacked neatly on the ottoman. He’d also removed the wine bottle and my glass from the side table. I shot a quick glance toward the kitchen, didn’t see the bottle there, nor did it sit on the bar.

Pressing my lips together, I held back from asking about it as I took a seat on the couch next to him and half expected him to get up and move, but he didn’t. “Thanks for staying.”

“No problem. I guess spending time with you is slightly more important than kicking G’s ass in Madden.”

“Wow. You know how to make a girl feel special.”

He leaned over, bumping me with his shoulder. “I do what I can.”

I slipped my arm around his. My heart rate increased. A tidal wave of dread washed over me. I mentally counted to ten, trying to get ahold of the uncertainty. I’d wanted to talk to him, but now every reason why I should let it go played in my head. My hand squeezed Malcolm’s arm.

“You all right?”

I nodded. “Yeah...yeah I’m okay. Just got a little dizzy.”

“Too much wine?”

I sat up, moving away from him. “Are you going to lecture me again about my drinking?”

“For real? First, I’ve never lectured you about a damn thing. I made an observation that you took the wrong way. Secondly, it was a simple fucking question. You had drinks. You said you were dizzy. It’s not a huge fucking leap to connect the two together.”

I stood and crossed my arms across my chest. “It felt more like a judgement than a simple observation.”

“If it felt that way, then that has more to do with you than me.”

I turned my head, feeling the sting of his words as harshly as a slap to the face. The nervous jitters in my stomach intensified. Mal was right. His question had been simple, but his previous comments about my drinking, coupled with my anxiousness, set me on edge.

“How does this happen? All I did was ask a question and you were ready to bite my head off.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.”

His arms wrapped around me, and I sighed as I leaned into his embrace.

He kissed the top of my head. “I’m not gonna lie, baby, your drinking bothers me. And before you go off on me, let me explain. I don’t care that you drink. I care about the reason why you drink.”

“It’s just a few glasses of wine. You’re reading too much into it.”

He pulled away, and lifted my chin so he could see my face. His warm, hazel eyes stared at me. Normally, such scrutiny would make me feel self-conscience, but this was Mal. His gaze never held judgement. When he looked at me, I knew he really saw me, the real me. I was of two minds about that. On one hand, Malcolm knowing my darkest secrets added to my anxiety. On the other, I took comfort in the fact that I didn’t have to pretend.

“Don’t do that. You want to lie to yourself fine, but don’t bullshit me.” His tone was stern, but also full of warmth.