Page 142 of Stay Wild Darlin’

Cora blinked, confused by the sudden stillness, and then reached her little hands toward me.

“Ma-ma,” she said again, a little more certain this time.

Still, no one spoke. No one breathed.

Dalton finally broke the silence. He gave Cora’s thigh a gentle squeeze as his voice softened into something so tender I thought it might break me. “That’s right, sweetie. Mama.”

The lump in my throat turned into something unmanageable. It was the size of a goddamn grapefruit.

I couldn’t speak. Could barely swallow. Everything—the win, the cameras, being publicly claimed as Dalton’s girlfriend, and hearing Cora say that out loud for the first time . . .

It was too much.

“I, uh . . .” I stepped back slightly, blinking fast, trying to force air into my lungs. “Do you guys have her? I— I’ll see you at dinner.”

Before anyone could answer, I turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction toward the hotel, needing space and to not fall apart in front of everyone.

The second I stepped outside, I backed up against the nearest wall of the arena. My spine hit the siding with a quiet thud. The metal was warm from the sun and solid enough to hold me up when my knees felt like they might give out.

I sucked in a shaky breath, then another as I fumbled for my phone, needing something to tether me. I opened up my old group. My favorite corner of the internet, full of strangers who somehow always knew exactly what to say. I hadn’t posted in months. Didn’t need to because I had Dalton to talk to now, but I needed someone who didn’t know my face.

I clicked into the group and started typing, fingers flying like muscle memory:

My boss told me he loved me. The little girl I nanny for, his daughter, called me Mama. Her mother’s not in the picture. I think I’m in love with him, too, but I told him thank you. Oh my god. What is my life?!

I hit Post and waited, but it didn’t take long for the responses to come in.

@CactusMama: Hey, take a breath. You were overwhelmed, it happens. You didn’t say the wrong thing, you weren’t ready to say the big thing yet. That doesn’t make your feelings any less real. You’re allowed to take a second before falling heart-first into forever.

@LaundryOnMyFloor: It sounds like you’ve already built a life with him, even if you’re only now realizing it. Don’t focus on what you didn’t say—focus on what you want to say next. When it matters, say it.

@SinglePringle87: GIRL. You said thank you??? I’m sweating. I’m crying. I’m screaming into my pillow.

@YeeHawBarbie: Tell him you love him with your boobs. Words are for amateurs.

I read each message like they were handwritten letters from a hundred different versions of the friend I hadn’t realized I missed and smiled through a blur of tears.

I wasn’t ready to go back in there, but I was ready to talk to him.

Not in front of everyone. Not under fluorescent lights with strangers waiting to see what happened next. But just . . . us.

I opened my messages and started typing, thumbs moving slower now, more intentional. Less panic, more heart.

Hey. I needed a second. Everything hit all at once. I’m so proud of you, Dalton. That ride was everything. You earned every second of it. Instead of dinner, I think I want to go home. If you’ve got the car seat, I’ll see you there.

I hovered for half a second before hitting Send.

Seconds passed.

Home sounds perfect. Cora’s out cold in my arms. Take all the time you need. I’ll be there.

That damn grapefruit-sized lump came back, but this time, it didn’t hurt.

48

Poppy

They came home while I was in the shower, not too long after I’d gotten back. The front door opened quietly, the muffled sound of Dalton’s boots on the hardwood, followed by the soft shuffle of him carrying Cora, probably asleep on his shoulder.