A Bluewater Bay Collection by Witt L.A. & Gallagher Ann & Gallagher Lauren

Author:Witt, L.A. & Gallagher, Ann & Gallagher, Lauren
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64230-095-6
Published: 2021-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Brennan

It was almost two when Zafir pulled into Leyla’s driveway. I stayed in the car—my ankle was throbbing like mad now, so he insisted I just relax while he went in to get Tariq.

As I waited for them, my mind wandered through the last several hours. I was a little disappointed we hadn’t made it to the asexual group, especially since it was anybody’s guess when we’d have the opportunity again. Still, the day hadn’t exactly been wasted. Quite the opposite. I was tired, and my ankle was sore, and I was ready to just face-plant in my pillow, but I still felt kind of . . . high? It was a little like when the adrenaline was tapering off after I’d competed—I was wrung out and completely done, but still kind of giddy. Like I desperately needed to sleep but wasn’t ready for the day to be over.

At least it was better than feeling sorry for myself and pining for Aimee. Had I been pining for her? Now that I thought about it—not really. I’d been pining for that year and a half where I’d been cruising along in a relationship, taking for granted that things would never change and that I knew who I was. Ignorance was bliss, apparently.

But now she was gone, and my ego was healing because I’d found out some things that had never occurred to me, and I was grinning like a dumbass in the passenger seat of Zafir’s car because we’d just spent the most awesome day together. My life felt like it had flipped on its head overnight. Everything seemed different now than it was a month ago. Or even a week ago. And I liked it. A lot.

The door opened, and Leyla stepped outside to hold the storm door. Then Zafir followed, his son in his arms. They were backlit, so I couldn’t make out anyone’s features, but Leyla’s hijab gave her away, and Zafir . . . well, I pretty much knew his shape by heart now.

Slowly, balancing his son in his arms, Zafir came down the front steps. Tariq wasn’t a big kid, but Zafir wasn’t a big guy either. I would’ve offered to carry him, but with my ankle in that stupid boot, I was a little off-balance. Getting myself down the stairs would’ve been enough of a challenge without being scared to death I was going to drop Tariq. Today had been a good day—didn’t need to end it on a sour note by breaking Zafir’s kid.

After Zafir had cleared the steps, his sister jogged past him and opened the car door.

I twisted around as Zafir gently set Tariq in the booster seat.

“Another year,” Leyla said, “and you won’t be able to carry him like that.”

Zafir groaned as he buckled the seat belt over his sleeping son. “Another year? More like another month.”

“He’s growing fast.”

“Explains why my back is all jacked up.”

I chuckled. “Could just be you getting older.”

“Hey.” He playfully wagged a finger at me. “That’ll be enough out of you.

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