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“Sounds like her loss, because you might be the coolest kid I’ve ever met.” She doesn’t use a sad voice, or a baby voice, she just talks to him like a normal human being. “Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath because she just practically hired herself.
“Eaton. You grumpy motherfucker. You just laughed,” I blurt. “Yeah, Red. I did.”
“The joke’s on you though. I wouldn’t last ten minutes and just because you’d be quiet doesn’t mean I would be.”
She’s a spark in the dark. Dancing flames against a midnight sky. She shines brighter than almost anyone in this entire place with her glossy hair, bright dress, and twinkling green eyes.
And she’s the fucking nanny, which means I shouldn’t be counting songs and minutes like some sort of possessive psycho, when all I’ve been to her for over a week is a grumpy asshole.
Willa might be a bit of a psycho—after all, she did just push a child into the pool—but the more time I spend with her, the more I feel like she’s my psycho.
“I’ve watched you with my son. I’ve watched you, period. I’ve longed for you. I went crazy tonight thinking of you out with Lance. I know in my bones that I won’t want to let you go at the end of the summer, but I’ll take what I can get. Because you’re too fucking special to pass up. Fuck my promises, that’s what I was going to say.”
“Because you’ve never been just the nanny, Willa.” My chest lurches as I look back at him, feeling suspended in time. “You’ve always been more. The woman I wanted but wouldn’t let myself have.”
