taste. Her eyes widen almost immediately. She goes back in for another taste, then another, then another, until Selene and I are laughing at her again.
“I take it you like it?”
“Mommy! I found my new favorite ice cream!”
I glance at Selene just as she’s taking a long lick of her ice cream, and Jesus Christ, I may be pissed as hell at her, but my body obviously doesn’t share the same feelings. Heat coils deep in my gut, and I have to force myself to look away.
“Little miss, you finished over there yet?” Sal hollers toward our table. Luna glances over at him, wearing an ice cream mustache.
“Yup!”
“Want to come help make the next batch of ice cream?”
Luna slides out of the booth, hopping up and down in front of our table. “Mommy, can I go help? Please, please, pleaaase.”
Selene smiles. “Go on. But make sure you listen to Sal, okay?”
She runs off, letting herself around the counter. She stands beside Sal, waiting for instruction, eager to make ice cream.
It doesn’t escape my notice that when it came to asking permission for something, she asked Selene first, not me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. If I didn’t feel that sharp laceration of rejection in my chest. I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before she feels comfortable enough to ask me permission for something. Or will that only ever be her mother’s position? Just thinking about it makes me angry all over again. My gut seizes with frustration, and I see red.
Forcing myself to look at something else and calm down, I spot a table a few spaces down from us. There is a group of people sitting there. Two women and three men. What bothers me is the man at the end of the booth has his eyes glued to Selene. She’s completely oblivious to him eye-fucking her as she finishes her ice cream, her gaze glued to Luna. He’s not even being sneaky about it either, the fucking bastard.
I grind my teeth together, tension filling my body as I think about Selene with another man. I have no right. I shouldn’t even care at all, but I suddenly feel possessive of this woman. The woman who birthed my child. The woman who lost her virginity to me. I can’t stop thinking about another man touching her because even though I loathe to admit it, she feels like mine.
Every one of her firsts is mine. I hate that I don’t remember that night. I hate that I was such a fucking idiot, and I hurt her enough to drive her away and keep Luna from me. I want to make amends for the past.
Idly, I wonder if she’s slept with anyone else since then, and I grow angry over the possibility of it being true.
If she was out with someone, who was watching Luna? And Jesus, the thought of another man parenting my child has red seeping into my vision. My hands fist under the table. For as long as I am walking this earth, no one else will step in as father where my daughter is concerned.
I shift back around in my seat, only to find Selene staring at me. She glances away quickly, realizing she was caught ogling. That damn flush climbs up the creamy expanse of her chest to her slender throat, and I’m riveted by the sight. Sneaking another glance at me, she realizes I’m still staring and shoots me a wary smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
As I stare at her, taking everything about her in, I wonder what the past few years have been like for her. I can’t imagine she has a lot of friends, not while being a single mother and trying to make ends meet. The sinister part of me hopes she didn’t have time for dates or friends. Because if she did, if she did date and find the perfect someone, things right now would be a whole hell of a lot different. To think of Selene having another child with someone else makes me feel fucking violent. It also makes me wonder if she’s been with that asshole that Luna was talking about the other day. Theo, she said his name was.
“Who is Theo?”
She seems startled by the question. “What?”
“Luna mentioned a man named Theo the other day. The one who was ‘in love’ with you. I’d like to know what other men have been around my daughter.”