Page 69 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

“My mom?” I mouth, unsure why she’s calling Sadie.

She nods. To my mom, she says, “Sure, okay. That should be fine. Let me ask Des.” She covers the phone. “Your mom and Lennon are in Windfall, visiting E and Delilah. They all want to swing by later and see Max.”

“Of course they can.” Though I’d hate not being there. Kind of resent Mom for not including me. “It’s not my call.”

Sadie shifts on her feet. “She wants to know if you’ll come.”

I should never have questioned my mom. Woman’s always helping me out, even when I’ve been a bear. “I’ll check my schedule, but I think I can make that work.”

Considering the only things on my schedule are to flirt with Sadie and spend time with Max, it shouldn’t be tough. I don’t push the sitter issue and another date either. As far as I’m concerned, this is progress. It’s time for me to check no one’s eating poisonous mushrooms.

I turn to head over to the kids. But Olivia.

I thought I was past But Olivia. I assumed Monday’s bracelet win and our talk about her dad pushed us past antagonistic territory. Apparently not. She’s by a grouping of tiny white mushrooms. Instead of intently sketching her discovery, she’s standing, arms folded, intently watching me. Her evil-mastermind expression doesn’t bode well.

I go for evasion and try to beeline for Max.

She steps in my way, smug as ever. “You and Sadie, huh?”

“Me and Sadie nothing. And we’re done with the questions. I don’t care if the others hear about my past. You’ve lost your leverage.”

Her smugness grows into a gleam. “Did you know straight men spend a year of their lives staring at women?”

“And?”

“You’re going for the staring world record. There’s no point lying. You and Sadie were basically making out over there.”

Honestly. Why do I even bother? “Sadie and I were just talking over there,” I say sternly, hunched lower, attempting not to growl. “Not making out. Maybe mind your own business.”

She squints at me so intensely I start to itch. “Is Max your son?”

What in the actual fuck? I pat my suctioned yellow shirt, checking for a wire. I have no clue where she gets her intel. “Why would you ask that?”

“You were with his mom before your dad ruined your life.” She holds up her thumb, counting off her first point with a hefty dose of condescension. “That was, like, ten or eleven years ago, and Max is ten.” She ticks up a second finger. “Your eyes are pretty similar.” Finger three. “And Max drew you in his sketchbook.” Four. “If you’re not his dad, I might have to call child services on that last one.”

She’s gunning for an extralong silent treatment from yours truly, but . . . “He drew me?”

Not only am I grinning like an idiot, but I’ve just given Olivia all the ammunition she needs to make my life intolerable. What else is new?

“He’s really good at drawing,” she says.

“He’s fantastic. And you better not breathe a word to him about Sadie and me. It’s too early to tell him.”

She taps her chin, drawing out my pain. “Guess that leverage is mine again. Four questions a day, and you have to tell me your real name.”

I grip the back of my hair, nearly yanking it out. I’m not sure if this leverage is better or worse than her last question-extortion stunt. With how cagey Sadie’s being, possibly worse. But I have an edge of my own. “Zero percent of kids who get greedy when blackmailing receive more kickass bracelets. And my real name’s Desmond. I was planning to tell the group about that and my WITSEC interlude at the end of today’s hike anyway.”

She makes a huffy sound. “Fine, Desmond. One question. So—”

I hold up my palm. “Not today, Satan. You wasted question number one at the start of this ambush.”

Her irked expression is my reward for thinking on my feet. “Fine, but FYI, Sadie’s doing that thing my mom does when she likes a guy, but she’s worried he’s a dick or thinks it won’t work out.”

“First, don’t say dick. Second, what thing?” More to the point, I should not be on the proverbial edge of my seat, eager for advice from a twelve-year-old extortionist.

“The avoidance thing. You’re chasing, and she’s avoiding.”

I glance at Sadie, who’s flipping through Jun’s mushroom book with him. A regular adult-kid interaction. My heart still does this strange squeeze-pinch-roll number. “How do these guys get her to stop avoiding?”