I barely slept. I kept waking up at the slightest sound and then gave up on sleep altogether and made an extra large pot of coffee and sat in the living room and waited for her to get up. When she wasn’t awake by ten I panicked and peeked in on her, thinking she might not be there. Maybe she’d run away in the middle of the night. But she was in my guest room, sprawled across the bed, snoring. It hit me that she probably hadn’t had a decent bed—or any bed—to sleep in lately and so she was taking advantage.
I relaxed and headed back into the living room where I laid out on the couch and turned on HGTV and fell asleep sometime during a ridiculous episode about a family of four with two huskies that want to move into a three-hundred-square-foot tiny home. I wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of knocking on the front door. I have no idea what’s happening or even where I am for a second and then reality slams me in the face. I rush to the kitchen and find Mackenzie cooking. She looks up at me, still clad in the extra pair of pajamas I gave her last night that are swimming on her, and gives me a guarded smile. “You said I could eat anything.”
“I did,” I say with a nod. “Throw enough on there for me, okay?”
“Sure.”
Another knock on the door. I hesitate for some reason, not wanting to leave her, but I force myself to make my way to the front door. I glance through the peephole and find Alex’s rugged face staring back at me. I unlock the door and swing it open, smoothing what must be epic bed-head from my couch nap. Our eyes meet and he smiles. It’s soft and even a little shy—nothing like the brash, oversexed guy I’ve come to know.
“Sorry to bother you at home. I know you probably didn’t expect unannounced visits just because I shared an Uber with you guys last night,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “I have a three-day road trip and I just wanted to make sure everything is good. You know, with Mac and everything.”
I nod. “It’s good so far. She’s cooking breakfast.”
“Cool.” Alex’s eyes move from my face to his own feet. His shoulders are hunched and he’s emoting this vibe—sadness or something else I can’t define—but it makes me want to sooth him somehow. “So you’re going to get her into Daphne’s House?”
“That’s the plan Laurie is working on,” I reply. Without even thinking about it I add, “Do you have time to come in for coffee? Food?”
“What? Really?” He’s as shocked I asked as I am. I nod. He hesitates. “Yeah. I’ve got some time.”
I step out of the way so he can step into my home. As I close the door behind him I self-consciously tug at the shirt I’m wearing. I’m still in my pajamas. A faded old Tinker Bell shirt that’s too small and barely hits my waist, and a pair of pajama bottoms with white and black sheep all over them. Not exactly professional, but after last night I think Alex and I are past that part of our relationship. Now I’m more than just a boss at a place he volunteers. It feels like we’re kind of almost friends.
He follows me through the living room and dining room into the kitchen. “Alex stopped by to say hey.”
She turns around and sees him and she smiles brighter than I’ve seen yet. Not actually very bright at all, but for her, it’s bright. “Hey.”
“Hey back. How’s the arm?”
“Okay.”
She reaches for the eggs in the carton on the counter as I head to the coffeepot and pour him some, handing him the mug. “Black, right?” I question and he nods, a little surprised. “I remember from Starbucks.”
That shy smile comes back. “I really would prefer if you forgot that whole encounter.”
I laugh. Mackenzie is watching us curiously. “Are you two a thing?”
“What?” I sound horrified. I know it and I regret it but I can’t change it.
Alex’s eyes dart to me and then to Mackenzie. “We don’t even really know each other, Mac.”
“Oh.” She seems genuinely startled by that truth. She turns back to the pan, scrambling the eggs with her spatula.
“I’m going out of town for a few days and I just wanted to swing by and say good-bye,” he explains.
“You’re leaving?” Her normally confident voice is soft, feeble, scared.
My eyes fly to Alex’s face in time to see his jaw clench at the sound of it. He clears his throat and his voice is calm. “You’re in a safe place. Keep it that way, okay?”
She looks at me. She still doesn’t fully trust me, clearly, but I get it and I won’t push her, I’ll just prove to her she can let me in. I give her a little nod, as if to back up his statement. She shrugs. “I don’t make promises, but I’ll probably be here when you get back.”
“I guess I’ll have to take that,” Alex says and I motion for him to follow me back into the living room.
I sit down on one end of the couch. He stands awkwardly and looks around. I feel like he’s judging me as his eyes survey the room. I start to feel defensive. He finally sits down on the edge of the chaise longue across from the couch. “Nice place.”
“My grandmother left it to me,” I explain. “She owned a lot of real estate, which was divided up between her grandchildren when she died. I got this place and the building where Daphne’s House is located.”
“Oh.”
For some reason, I feel the need to impress him. Or at the very least change his opinion that I’m some spoiled rich kid who has never faced adversity. “I knew since I was young that I wanted to work with kids struggling in the foster system and give them a different choice,” I explain and pause. I’m about to tell him why—the full real reason—but I chicken out. “My grandmother died when I was nineteen and the only way to start the ball rolling on Daphne’s House was to have it done in my parents’ name because they were the trustees on my inheritance until I turned twenty-five. The place is mine, from the idea, to the money, to the building. I just never bothered to change the paperwork once I got out of college and started running it.”
Now his expression changes. Those stormy blue eyes now regard me with awe and, most importantly, respect. “Was Daphne your grandmother’s name?”
“No.”
“Breakfast!” Mackenzie yells.
She’s carrying three plates of eggs and bacon. Alex and I stand up. I walk over to the tiny square dinner table that’s set up just next to the kitchen, but Alex doesn’t join.
“I already ate and I have to head to the airport,” he explains and carries his half-empty coffee cup down into the kitchen. I watch him drain it and place it in the sink. Mackenzie shrugs and starts to scrape the food on his plate onto hers.
“Thanks for the coffee.” He smiles at me and his eyes dart to Mackenzie, who is basically shoveling the food into her mouth at an astonishing speed. “And everything.”
I get up and walk him to the door. He leaves without another word and I close the door and lock it behind him. When I sit back down at the table she’s already finished half of the food on her plate.
I pick up a strip of bacon with my fingers and tear off a piece. She’s cooked it perfectly; it’s crispy without being dry. Mackenzie is watching me with a hopeful look so I smile. “Delicious.”
A brief but happy smile flies over her elfin features.
“How did Alex find you?”
She swallows down a mouthful of eggs. “He stopped a dude from beating me up for taking a half-eaten piece of pizza from a Dumpster.”
I nod like that’s no big deal, but it’s gross and it breaks my heart that it was her life. I have to make sure it doesn’t become her life again. She shoves and entire strip of bacon into her mouth and swallows it down after only a couple chews. I can’t help but warn her. “Take your time.”
She pauses and for a second I think she might be pissed off but then she admits, “I’m just used to having to rush.”
I nod and for some reason I don’t even want to analyze, I find myself pulling the conversation back to Alex. “So he stopped the guy from beating you up and you became buddies?”
“Not really. He bribed me with money to meet him again so he could give me info on your charity place, but I ghosted him,” she tells me and pauses to eat another heaping forkful of eggs. “I didn’t trust him because he fed me some crap about having been a street kid. I mean, really, street kids don’t turn into him, you know?”
Wait, what? Did she just say…
I swallow down my own mouthful of eggs. “He said he was homeless? When? Why?”
She nods and takes in my expression. “I know, right? It’s gotta be total bullshit. Anyway, I don’t know if it was just dumb luck, but he found me again and made me show him my arm and well, you know the rest.”
“Yeah.” I chew absently on another strip of bacon, not really even tasting it.
Alex told her he was homeless? Was that just a line to get her to open up to him? He’s full of lines. He is a genius at coaxing and flattering and getting what he wants. Maybe he was using those “talents” for good in this situation with her instead of evil. Because honestly, there is no way he was homeless. How does a homeless kid play hockey? And he had to have played when he was young. You don’t get to the professional level without working hard as a teenager. I’ve got so many questions, but will he answer them if I ask?
“So what does he do for a living?” Mackenzie asks. “Is he like an actor or a model or something?”
The strangest sounding bark of a laugh escapes my mouth and she stares at me, both eyebrows raised. “Sorry. I just…No. He’s not.”
“He could be,” Mackenzie says, shrugging. “He’s handsome for an old dude in a rough action-hero kind of way, don’t you think?”
I don’t answer her but I answer the question internally. Yes, he is handsome, I had to admit that even when he was being a cocky player. And the man who showed up here this morning, the humble, soft-spoken, man…he was even more attractive. But I will not confess that to a child.
“He plays hockey.” I answer her original question instead and stand to collect her now empty plate. “For the Brooklyn Barons.”
Her green eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Wow. Plot twist. Didn’t see that coming. So is he any good?”
I shrug. “I guess so. He’s been playing for years for a lot of teams.”
“Guess that explains all his scars.”
I smile and as I carry the plates into the kitchen I realize it doesn’t explain all his scars…and I’m suddenly more interested than ever in learning where his biggest ones came from.