Behind me, he froze, too, instantly sensing the change in my body language.
I tugged frantically at his wrist, and he complied, stepping back so quickly that I almost fell over.
I didn’t want empty or fast, even if it was mutual.
Hot, embarrassed tears blurred my vision, and I took a few jittery breaths to will them back. I’d been doing it my entire life, whenever my feelings got too big for my body. Happy tears, sad tears, and in this case, tears that sprang up when I wanted to run and hide from the consequences of my own choices.
I couldn’t, though, could I? I might not see his face again, but I’d still have to make peace with the fact that I’d allowed myself to go this far.
With trembling hands, I buttoned up my pants and righted my shirt. When I finally risked a glance up, his face was unreadable, but his eyes ...
His eyes still burned.
“Too much,” he said. “My apologies if I went too far.”
I shook my head. “No, it was ... it was both of us.”
He took a small step forward. “Tell me your name,” he begged.
Tomorrow I’d wake up and none of this would be real. Trying to fit this into the reality of my life was absolutely futile.
“Good night,” I told him instead. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else to dance with soon enough.”
Chapter One
Remi
One month later
If a single mom on a tight budget were hired to rule the world, we’d all be in a better situation. Shit would get done, and everyone would be taken care of. The side effect, of course, was that wasting money was the scariest thing you could possibly talk to her about.
Case in point, my normally fearless ten-year-old wavering in the hallway just outside my bedroom door, breathing loudly. He never did anything quietly, which I was grateful for most days.
“Gavin, I can hear you. What is it?”
He sighed. Did that loudly too.
Instead of waiting for him to pluck up the courage to come into the room, I merely glanced up, and when there was no sight of him, I went back to pulling the needle through the hole in his school uniform pants.
Another sigh. This one even louder.
“Did you get in trouble at school?” I asked, wincing when I almost stabbed myself in the tip of my pointer finger.
“No.”
“Good start. Is someone bullying you?”
“No.”
“Even better. Now, how about you stop sighing in the hallway and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Gavin shuffled through the open door, leaning his shoulder against the frame and staring down at the floor. No eye contact was never a good thing.
“Do you remember that really expensive present I asked for, for my birthday last year? And you said it was something I needed to take care of and respect and not, like, roll around in the dirt when I was wearing it?”
My brain was locked on my never-ending to-do list and not on past birthday presents, and I had to blink for a second while my thoughts came into focus.
“Yeah, the football thing.”