Page 73 of Dancing in the Dark

“Here where? This is my apartment! This is where I live wif my daddy.”

“Oh?” I pretend to study our sheet-covered fort. “My mistake. Did you see me sleep?”

She swings her head up and down in a nod.

“Was I snoring?”

Laughing, she throws her head side to side.

“Was I…” I tap my bottom lip. Thinking pose. “Talking in my sleep?”

She shakes her head again. “No! But Daddy said I had to leave you alone so you could keep sleeping.”

“Oh, yeah?” Don’t panic. Don’t panic! If he hated you or wanted to get rid of you, he would’ve grabbed your shit and tossed you out the door. Not tell his five-year-old to let you keep sleeping. “And where is your daddy now?”

“He’s outside,” she giggles happily. “Drinking his coffee.”

“Outside… the apartment building? Does he do that often?”

“Outside the pillow fort!” She swipes out with a fast hand and grabs the sheet covering our small sleep space. Yanking it away and revealing the rest of her living room and the man folded over his counter, his taunting smirk poorly hidden behind a steaming coffee mug, she cackles. “See! There he is.”

“Ah… Yep.” My throat thickens with nerves and curiosity and what ifs and so much more. But the smirk is good, right? The twinkle in his eyes surely means the world is no worse than it was twenty-four hours ago. “There he is, indeed.”

“I can’t believe you slept over last night!” Full of beans, Mia jumps to her feet and accidentally kicks me in the ribs. Spinning in circles, too energized to know which way she wants to go, she takes off at a sprint and slips on the million cushions. Tumbling to her hands and knees, she bounds up again and cuts a line through her living room, climbing nimbly to the stool directly across from her father and steals my view of the man whose eyes glitter with mischief. “Can Fifi sleep over all the nights, Daddy? We could make another fort and everyfing!”

“Mm. Maybe.” He boops her nose with the tip of his finger. “We’ll see what Fifi wants to do.”

“And the times she doesn’t wanna sleep on the floor, she could have my bed! I would share.”

“I know you would. That’s why everyone calls you the nicest person in the whole world.” His lifts his chin and indicates away. “Go have a shower. It’s almost time for school.”

“I don’t need a shower!” She lifts her arm and takes a noisy sniff. “I don’t even stink!”

“I disagree,” he chuckles. Setting his coffee on the counter and coming around to meet her nose to nose, he picks her up and sets her on her feet. “You stink kinda bad. That’s why people also call you McStinkerson.”

“Only Cato! And he’s being silly when he does that.”

“Still.” He spins her with a hand on her shoulder, then he swats her butt and sends her scrambling. “Go. I need you in and out in ten minutes. And brush your hair while you’re in the shower, too. You’ve got knots.”

She skids to a stop at the mouth of the hallway, her little face wrinkled with crankiness. “Don’t leave while I’m in the shower, okay, Fifi? I would be sad if you sneaked out and didn’t say goodbye.”

Nerves prickle beneath my skin and whoosh in my belly. I’m still on the floor, still tangled amongst pillows and a blanket that smells like the Fletchers exactly. I have no clue what state my hair is in, and though I’m dressed, I feel the way fabric twists on my torso.

“Please, Fifi?” Mia’s eyes turn devastatingly vulnerable. “School takes a long time, and I’ll miss you all day.”

“I’ll wait for you.” I drag my blanket higher and force my lips into a small smile. “I promise.”

“Fanks!” She rotates on her heels and sprints into the bathroom, then slamming the door with a loud crack, she breaks the otherwise silence with a giggle. “Sorrrrrrrry!”

A mere ten seconds after that, the shower starts.

“Stop freaking out.” Charlie leaves his coffee behind and wanders around to the front of the television. If the sheet still covered our poorly made fort, I’d probably only see his legs from this position. Wading amongst the pillows, careful not to step on my legs, he lowers into a crouch and stops with his eyes half a foot higher than mine. “Whatever your brain is doing right now, overthinking and panicking and catastrophizing, I want you to stop it.”

“But—”

“Nuh uh.” He presses a terrifyingly perfect kiss to the center of my forehead. “No buts. No stress. No running away.” He nibbles on my bottom lip, his smile quirking up to the side. “I’m glad you stayed. Even if… ya know,” he chuckles. “We slept on the floor.”

“I’m glad I stayed, too. Even if… Ya know.” I clear my throat. “I spewed a bunch of weird trauma into your lap, and then I made you sleep on the floor and smell my feet all night.”