“I want to believe that.”
“You can.”
She smiles, and I don’t know if she believes it yet, but she looks content in the moment. I brush my thumb along her lips as they part, and I want to kiss her so fucking bad right now, but I know I’ll catch hell from my daughter if I try.
“Ohhhh, Daddy!” Madison says, grabbing my attention, catching me off guard as she launches herself my way. Laughing, Kennedy sits up, moving out of the line of fire as Madison damn near tackles me, leaping on my back and trying to cover my face with her hands from behind. “You’re not supposed to do that!”
“What?” I laugh. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re kissing her!” she says as I pull her hands away from my mouth when she tries to cover it. I playfully pretend to bite her, making her squeal. “Stop, Daddy!”
She flings herself on me, falling into my lap, as I glance up at the screen, realizing Breezeo is kissing Maryanne. I scowl, tickling Madison. “It’s just a movie. It’s not real.”
She giggles, slapping my hands away. “You didn’t really kiss her?”
“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s Breezeo, not me.”
“It’s still yucky,” she says, making a face.
“You think kissing me is yucky?”
I tickle her again, and she struggles, laughing, trying to get away, but I’m not going to let it go that easy. Grabbing ahold of her, pinning her to me, I nuzzle against her cheek as she shoves my face. “Help, Mommy!”
“Oh, no, you’re on your own there,” Kennedy says. “You got yourself into that one.”
“Ugh, no fair!” Madison says, slapping her hands over my mouth. “No kissing ‘till the end!”
“Fine.” I let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You win.”
She sticks her tongue out at me.
The girl seriously sticks her tongue out, gloating, as she leaps at her mother and kisses on her—planting big, sloppy kisses right on Kennedy, making sure I see it. She’s gone again then, right back to her movie now that the love scene is over.
“Unbelievable.” I shake my head. “I get no love.”
Grinning, Kennedy lays back down with her head in my lap. She stares at me, reaching up, her fingertips brushing across my lips. “You be good, and I’ll make it worth it for you later.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Is that right?”
“Yep,” she says. “I’ll—”
She’s cut off before she can elaborate by my cell phone ringing. Cliff. I decline the call, but he calls back again right away. I decline that call, too, but then comes another, this one from an unknown caller. After that number calls twice, I turn the phone off and put it away, turning my attention back to Kennedy. I’m not dealing with that shit tonight. “So, you were saying…?”
She gives me a sly grin, shaking her head, shifting position to face the screen.
I try to pay attention to the rest of the movie, but that’s harder than it sounds. I’m relieved when it’s over. We stand up as the credits are rolling, though I know we can’t leave until the post-credit scenes play. I grab the blanket, folding it up, and the moment Madison gives the okay, we’re walking away.
Our ride is waiting by the curb to whisk us home.
Madison jumps out when we make it back to the apartment. She’s twirling in circles, her dandelions crushed in her fist as she holds onto them, so not to lose them, as she runs ahead of us. I put my arm around Kennedy, pulling her to me, no hesitation, and kiss her—softly, sweetly at first before trying to deepen it, but she pulls back, grinning, pressing her pointer finger to my lips.
“We see one movie and suddenly you think I’m putting out?” she says. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“I think you’re the kind of girl that would usually put out before the movie.”
She gasps, playfully shoving me away, before grabbing my shirt and pulling me right back to her, whispering, “Maybe I’ll even let you bend me over a table.”
My footsteps stall, and I laugh at that as she walks away, pulling out her keys as she makes her way to the apartment door. I stand back, staring at her and Madison, smiling. It feels like my chest wants to fucking burst with all these feelings building up inside of me.
I can’t believe we’re here, that I’m with her… with them. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love her. Can’t believe I’m finally a father to my daughter.
Hell, I can’t believe I made it all night without being bothered.
I start to say something—to say just that—when a voice cuts through the silence… feminine, and familiar, and oh fuck. “Johnny?”
I turn, tensing, and see her a few feet to my right in the parking lot of the apartment building.
Serena.
“Johnny!” She runs, flinging herself at me, and I stagger a few steps as she wraps her arms around me, squeezing. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Madison gasps. “Mommy, it’s Maryanne!”
“I know,” Kennedy says, her voice a whisper. “I see.”
Serena turns, loosening her grip, like she’s just now realizing I’m not alone out here. She plasters a smile on her face, zeroing right in on Madison. “Oh, who might you be, cutie?”
Madison stares at her. She looks conflicted, fidgeting, tinkering with her dandelions as she says, “I’m Maddie.”
“Well, hello, Maddie,” Serena says. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
Madison fidgets even more.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Kennedy says, grasping Madison by the shoulder to lead her into the apartment. “Let’s go inside so they can talk.”
Madison resists. She looks confused, like she doesn’t want to go, but she eventually gives in. Kennedy casts a look my way, and it only lasts a second, but it’s long enough for me to see the concern in her eyes, mingling with something else. Hurt.
The moment they’re gone, Serena’s expression changes, her smile dimming. She turns back to me, groaning, shoving against my chest. “Johnny, what the hell? I’ve been looking for you all night!”
“Why?”
She lets out an incredulous laugh. Her eyes, Jesus Christ, they’re like saucers—completely black. “Why? I haven’t seen you in over a month!”
“I know, but…” I shake my head, taking a step away from her as I run a hand down my face, trying to put a bit of space between us. “I thought you were in rehab.”
“I was,” she says. “But I couldn’t stay there. It was hell, Johnny, and those people didn’t get me. Not like you always did. And I missed you. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to—”
“Don’t do that,” I say, cutting her off. “Don’t try to make you leaving rehab about me.”
“You were hit by a car! I was worried!”
“You’re worried now? But not worried enough to check on me the night of the accident?”
“You know I hate hospitals,” she says.
“So do I,” I say. “And I know rehab feels like a glorified hospital, but sometimes a person needs help.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m better.”
“You’re high right now, Serena.”
She rolls her eyes. “So?”