Babysitting the Bad Boy

Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter contains content that could be an emotional trigger for some readers. Please read with caution if you are triggered by any kind of mention of sexual assault. I will have another warning as the moment gets closer, and another note in bold for when the content is no longer possibly triggering in bold.

Clara had an absolute field day in the museum. She ran from exhibit to exhibit, painting to painting, sculpture to sculpture, taking in every detail of every single one. Lucas and I couldn't take her eyes off of her, because she consistently tried to touch the displays.

Every time one of us would look away and then turn back, her hands and fingers would be mere inches from the surface of the paintings. We'd said, "Clara, no touching!" more times than we could count.

It wasn't until we were in the Andy Warhol exhibit, where Clara had almost knocked over one of the class cases, when things got awkward.

"Clara, how many times have we told you to not touch the exhibits? You can look at them all you want, but you can't touch them. They're very delicate." I said to her, bending down to look her in the eyes.

She nodded earnestly before turning an looking at the exhibit curiously. I looked at Lucas, us sharing the same knowing smile, "What are we going to do with her?" He asked and I laughed.

"She's getting antsy. We've been here for a couple hours I think it might be time to call it a day and get her some ice cream." I said and he nodded.

Before anything else could happen, a young woman gave us a kind smile before nodding to Clara, "She's adorable." she said.

Both of us smiled and nodded, "Pretty rowdy, but they all are." I said and she gave a light laugh.

"That is true. How old is she?" She asked.

"Six." Lucas answered.

The woman nodded, "I have to say, you two make a beautiful couple, and your daughter is wonderful." She said.

Lucas and I both froze, not knowing what to say. Couple?? DAUGHTER???? I'm sorry but, children are not in my foreseeable future. Especially not children with LUCAS FUCKING HUNTER.

"Oh-she's not-we're not-that's his little sister, I'm just her babysitter." I said, trying to sputter out the words.

Realization dawned on the woman's face, "Oh I'm so sorry! I just assumed but, I'm sorry." She said before walking away, looking mortified.

Lucas and I were silent, refusing to look at each other. I looked at the ground, trying to ignore the creeping blush on my cheeks, as he rubbed the back of his neck, not even a dumb smartass comment. 

But I refused to let it stay awkward for too long, "So, let's get her and text the others to meet at the ice cream shop down the street in fifteen minutes?" I asked, picking my head up and looking him in the eyes.

It seemed to catch him off guard but he stood up straighter before clearing his throat and nodding, "Um, yeah. I'll text them." he said before pulling out his phone and beginning to type a text message.

I walked over to Clara, "What do you say? Are you ready for some ice cream?" I asked her and she nodded eagerly with a smile.

With that we left the museum and drove a few streets over to the ice cream parlor, where all the others were waiting for us. The car ride was sufficiently awkward, to say the least. Neither of us spoke, just listened to the radio quietly.

It was a relief when we were out of the car and in the shop. I went up to the counter with Clara and she picked out her ice cream. I sat with her as she ate it, and Maya joined me.