Which meant he was keeping a secret—he couldn’t tell her how he felt until he’d figured it out for himself. Telling her was bound to make things weird between them, and he didn’t want that. He wasn’t sure if his feelings were just because they were together so often and he was lonely, or if this was something more serious. Was Zoey simply a safe choice because he literally knew everything about her?

Or was she the most dangerous choice of all?

CHAPTER FOUR

“THIS IS YOUR weekend with your dad, Hazel. He’s expecting you.”

Zoey chewed the inside of her cheek. She sympathized with Hazel, but she had to do the right thing here. Just as soon as she figured out what that was. Hazel was supposed to be with Chris and Genna-with-a-G two weekends a month. Hazel had always been Daddy’s Little Girl, but since the divorce, her role in her father’s new life was uncertain. She didn’t like going to the new house his girlfriend had insisted on, tearing Hazel away from the home she’d grown up in.

“Why should I have to abide by some contract the two of you came up with without my input? It’s all so...mercenary.” Hazel’s eyes shimmered with tears. A lot of this was hormones. Zoey’s hormones had her on edge, too. But she couldn’t just dismiss her daughter’s concerns.

“It’s not mercenary. There’s no monetary advantage for anyone whether you’re at Dad’s place or mine.” Zoey looked around her daughter’s bedroom. It was still a drab olive green—the same color her father had painted it twenty-some years ago. She’d promised Hazel they’d paint it, but it kept getting pushed off for other projects. Right on the heels of her guilt came the burning of tears in her eyes. Oh, yeah. She was hormonal for sure.

“But why should I have to go if I don’t want to?” Hazel sat on the edge of the bed next to the small duffel bag sitting open. “It’s like you two are telling me what I’m supposed to feel. This weekend, I’m supposed to like Dad. Then next weekend, I’ll like you. It’s stupid.”

Zoey crouched down on one knee in front of Hazel. She rested one hand on Hazel’s leg, waiting for her to make eye contact. “I want you to like both of us. All the time. This...” She nodded at the duffel. “This is just...logistics. We’re talking about where you’re going to lay your head at night, not how you’re supposed to feel. It’s not easy for us, either, but your dad and I are doing the best we can.”

Hazel rolled her eyes dramatically. “Really? ’Cause I’m the one who’s always packing.”