Fumbled (Playbook #2)(31)

“Deal,” they both say with wicked smiles on their faces, making me almost positive I’m going to regret this.



* * *



? ? ?

“HE’S KNOCKED OUT.” TK startles me out of the book I’m reading.

I close it and lean forward on my elbows. “I’m honestly shocked he lasted as long as he did.”

I watch as TK crosses my kitchen. His hair down, swaying with every step, and bare feet padding across my kitchen floor. The ease and confidence he exudes make it so he fits in whatever environment he’s in.

Like he belongs here.

My heart stutters and I shut down that train of thought. TK reappearing in my life has forced me to acknowledge how my feelings for him have never faded. I may have slept with other people, had a few almost-relationships, but now that I’m being honest with myself, I can recognize how I sabotaged every “relationship” I’ve had over the past ten years.

Under the table, I kick out the chair across from me and watch as TK folds his oversize body onto my IKEA furniture. I hold my breath, not sure he—or my poor chair—isn’t about to meet his demise.

The chair creaks and groans under his weight, but thankfully my screw-tightening skills hold up.

“He’s a fantastic kid.” TK leans back in the chair, propping his hands on the table and kicking his long legs to the side. “You’ve done a great job, Sparks.”

I try to school my features to not let him in on just how much his words make me feel. When Maya was around, she’d tell me I was a good mom, but since she’s been gone, I’ve been trucking along, trying my best and hoping I don’t screw Ace up too bad. This parenting shit is so hard and I question every single decision I make. Having TK tell me I’m doing a good job is enough to set my sinuses on fire with unshed tears.

Also, he called me Sparks.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and fiddle with my fingers. “That really means a lot.”

“It’s true.” He grazes his fingers across the back of my hand. Electricity surges up my arms and down my spine, leaving goose bumps in their path. “The way he looks at you. How respectful and polite he is. It’s obvious to anyone around you that you’re a great mom.”

“You have to stop complimenting me or I’m going to cry.” I pull my hands from the table and tuck them between my thighs. “You don’t want me almost passing out again.”

TK laughs even though it was a terrible joke. “You’re right, I wouldn’t want that again.”

We sit at the table, neither of us saying anything, and I’m one hundred percent okay with it. Some people hate silence. I’m not one of them. Bad news can’t be delivered without words. Sometimes quiet is the only way to maintain peace. It’s the noise that brings chaos.

TK doesn’t appreciate the quiet like I do. He fumbles around, tapping his foot and creating a beat on my table with his hands, before sitting up straight in his chair.

“We still need to talk, a lot has happened.”

See?

Chaos.

My stomach lurches and my palms start to sweat. No good has ever come from “we need to talk.” And hearing those words come from TK’s mouth is quite literally the nightmare I’ve had every day since Ace was born.

“About what?” I ask like a freaking idiot. The list of what we need to talk about is so long, we’d have to kill hundreds of trees to get enough paper.

“About what happened when you were pregnant, what happened when he was a baby . . . hell, Poppy. What happened last week!” He takes a deep breath and leans forward, like his words alone didn’t riddle me with anxiety, now he’s added serious body language. “What happens in the future?”

My stomach flips and my back goes straight. Everything in front of me blurs and my fingers start to tingle.

Oh no.

This.

This is what I was afraid of. I cannot . . . no. I will not lose Ace.

“No,” I say.

“No?” His eyebrows scrunch together. “No what?”

“The future,” I repeat his words. “No, you cannot take Ace from me. I won’t let it happen.”

“What the hell, Poppy?” His jaw tightens along with his fists, the veins in his muscular arms becoming more pronounced. “I just told you I think you’re a great mom. You really think I’m that big of an asshole to try and rip a kid away from his mom?”

Do I?

“You have zero right to get angry right now.” I point a deliberate finger across the table. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know you anymore and the side of yourself you showed me when I told you about Ace didn’t instill a sense of confidence in me.” I don’t want to be a bitch, but I’m also not going to mince my words to protect his fragile feelings. “You’ve spent the last ten years of your life having shit handed to you on a silver platter. You pass out hundreds like they’re Tic Tacs so you don’t have to wait in line. Are you really expecting me to not think you won’t spend thousands on a lawyer for my kid? Seriously?

“All I know is Ace is the only person I have, and if you think for a split second I won’t go to the ends of this earth to keep him with me, you’re out of your mind.” I roll my neck and raise my eyebrows. “Got me . . . Trevor?”