No part of me was putting the pieces together. Not one single bit. All I did was nod before turning around to face the dad still sitting on the bench, watching and listening. I smiled at him. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for the offer.”

The dad’s gaze bounced from me to Dallas and back again before he nodded, slowly. “Yeah, sure,” he said, going back to Dallas who suddenly seemed to be standing inches away from me. I could feel his body heat.

I didn’t even freeze a little when what was obviously his hand landed on my shoulder, gently turning me in the direction where everyone was headed. I only partially eyed his hand as I dropped my own for a low-five from Josh, who gave it to me easily.

“Good practice, J-Money?” I asked, completely conscious of the weight on me and of the man beside me.

The eleven-year-old smacked my hand again with a smirk. “Good practice. Did you have fun talking to your friend?”

Did I give my eleven-year-old the stink eye? Damn right I did.

The problem was, I’d learned the stink eye from the best: him.

I stuck my tongue out at him and he stuck his right back.

“That’s why I have to follow you two home,” came the voice that seemed right by my ear.

I stared at Josh a second longer before I winked at him, and he winked at me right back.

“Do you want to have dinner with us, Mr. Dallas?” Josh asked as he continued to watch me.

Since when did Josh invite people over for dinner? That was Louie’s job.

“J, I’m sure he has better things to do than see your face longer than he needs to,” I said jokingly, still watching that face I knew too well. It felt like he was up to something, but what? “Plus, I’m sure he wants to spend some time with his grandma.”

“There’s nothing better I could be doing,” came the reply right by my shoulder a moment before the hand on the opposite side gave me a squeeze before dropping. “And Nana’s probably asleep by now.”

With my heart up in my throat and this sneaky shit with Josh going on, I managed to keep my attention forward.

“All right, I just have to go pick up Louie first,” I said, mostly to my shoulder.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that what had to be a hand touched the small of my back. “I’m good at waiting,” he replied.

I nodded, and as I raised my gaze to start making our way toward the parking lot, I noticed it. A good chunk of the moms, waiting around for the kids or talking, were watching us. Why did that surprise me? And why didn’t it bother me?

“We should start carpooling.”

That comment had my head swinging to the side and up. Dallas was looking down at me, his expression clear. The hand on my lower back made a circle even through the material of my jacket, and his thick, dark eyebrows rose a millimeter, like he was trying to challenge me.

But why would he do that?

I didn’t narrow my eyes, but I wanted to. “That would save gas…” I cleared my throat. “Maybe not on the days Louie doesn’t come though.”

And this man, this man of my dreams who I didn’t know I even wanted, stitched back up a whole inch of that part of my heart that hadn’t been the same since my brother. “I don’t mind picking up Lou.” There was a pause and he blinked those beautiful eyes. His voice was hesitant. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

Didn’t want him to? What a dumbass.

I smiled at him, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wanted him to love me back. To kiss me again. To tell me what he wanted from me. “What did I tell you about stupid questions, Mr. Clean?”

* * *

I had just finished setting the last clean dish on the rack when my phone rang from wherever I’d left it.

“Aunt Di! It’s abuelita!” Josh shouted from the living room a moment before the slapping of his feet on the floor warned me he was coming.

Sure enough, he had my phone outstretched in his hand; his practice uniform still on. Before I’d gone into the kitchen to wash dishes, he, Lou, and Dallas had all been sitting in front of the television, taking turns playing video games. It was too much. So I’d gotten up and decided to wash dishes while I collected my thoughts.

“Thanks, J,” I told him, taking the phone from his hand. “Hey, you and Lou need to go ahead and get ready for bed, all right? It’s past ten.”

The entire time I’d been talking, his lip started to snarl a little but he nodded, reluctant and shit. “You want me to tell Mr. Dallas to go?”

No, I didn’t want him to kick out the neighbor, but I couldn’t exactly say that. “Don’t worry about it. You and Louie get ready for bed. Dallas can leave when he’s ready.”

Josh nodded and turned to walk out of the kitchen as I brought the phone to my face.

“¿Bueno?”

There was silence before my mom’s voice came over the line, slow and crawling. “Who is at your house?” she asked in Spanish.

I hated rolling my eyes seconds into our conversation, but I couldn’t help it. “My neighbor.”

“You have a man at your house?”

She was hissing. Fantastic. “Yes, Mamá.”

“It’s ten o’clock at night!”

“I know,” I told her, drawing the letters out in frustration. “Did you need something?”

“Is he alone with the boys right now?” She was still speaking in quick, angry Spanish.

Fuck. “Ma, did you need something?”

“¿Qué piensas? Qué estás haciendo?”

“I know what I’m doing, Mom,” I told her as calmly as possible even though the reality was, I never had any idea what I was doing. Ever. “What do you need?”

“Diana,” she grumbled. “Is he going to spend the night?”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Mom, tell me why you’re calling. I still need to put the boys to sleep and I have to go to sleep.”

“Que Dios me bendiga. ¿Donde te fallé?”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head in exasperation. She had just asked where she had failed me. God help me.

“It’s the man with the tattoos?”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, already deciding I needed to find my Pop-Tarts and stick two of them in my mouth at once. “Si. What do you need?”

The most dramatic noise ever made in the history of bodily sounds came through the phone and my eyes tried to go find my brain again.

“Mom, I like him and you’re going to have to live with that. So tell me why you called, please.”

She started mumbling words in Spanish that I was pretty sure made up a prayer I hadn’t heard in decades, since my First Communion. There was something about God helping her and something after that about paying for her sins. Planting one hand on the kitchen counter, with the other one holding the phone to my face, I dropped my head back and fake sobbed.

“Mom.”

She wasn’t listening to me. Like always.

I only fake sobbed more.

Then I heard the soft laugh behind me. It was Dallas with his hip to the counter, those muscular arms crossed over his chest. He looked way too amused.

Had he heard me say I liked him?

“Mom, Mom, just call me later, okay? You’re not paying attention anymore. I love you, tell God I said hi.” I waited a second, and when she still hadn’t acknowledged me, I sighed and hit the red button on my screen.