If indoor play followed by outdoor play isn’t enough to tire out the little crotch goblin, we’ve met our match.
They decorate the mansion for holidays, and while Thanksgiving and Christmas are both coming up pretty freakin’ quickly, part of me is loath to believe I’ll be with Raffi even next week, let alone for major holidays.
Gotta get through this first family “date” first, right?
Wyatt’s running circles around the dining table brandishing a plastic sword. He’s swinging a shield too, but I have no clue who he’s running from.
A sharp knock at the door makes me start, even though I’m expecting it. Palms clammy, heart racing, I open it and learn that casual Raffi might be my favorite. He’s in sweats and a Raccoons t-shirt, clearly ready to crawl through tunnels and zip down slides with the toddler.
He kisses me on the cheek. “You look great.”
My face heats. It’s only jeans and a sweater, some boots and day two curls, but he makes me feel like I’m dressed to go to the most formal occasion on the planet. The way his approval skims my curves makes me want to strip and do him right here on the kitchen table.
“Raffiiiiiiiiiii!” My pint-sized terror comes flying toward him, sword and shield held high as he screams. “Why are youhere?”
His directness is adorable and also a bit rude, but Raffi doesn’t miss a beat. He hands me the bag of bagels. “I was thinking about taking your mom out to the Fun Station. Would she like that?”
Wyatt’s face falls as his mouth drops open. “No! Take me! Mama doesn’t like it.”
“You sure?” Raffi picks him up and spins him around. “You don’t think me and your mom would have fun going down the slides?”
Wyatt shakes his head emphatically. “No. Meeeeee! Take meeeee!”
Raffi laughs. “Okay, what do you say we go get your shoes on while your mom gets to eat a hot breakfast?”
Wyatt nods, grabs Raffi by the hand, and drags him toward his bedroom. Mom comes trudging down the hall, slippers protruding from the bottom of a fluffy green nightgown.
“What was all the fuss about?”
I open the bag Raffi handed me, and cheesy warm air smacks me right in the face. “Raffi brought breakfast.” Guessing each bagel is the same, I offer them to Mom. “Want one?”
She takes one and unwraps it with a groan.
“He then told Wyatt he was taking me to the Fun Station, and Wyatt lost his shit because he wanted to come too.”
Mom both laughs and burns her tongue at the same time. She’s always been a sucker for a breakfast bagel.
When I take the first bite of melty cheesy goodness, it blows my mind. The combination of egg and sausage is chef’s kiss. If Raffi doesn’t hurry back I’m going to eat his as well. Except, the bag has four more bagels inside.
I shouldn’t be surprised since Raffi most definitely loves his food. The guy’s constantly eating, and yet never gains a single poundin weight. Jerkface.
Why is it so many guys can eat whatever the hell they want, but when I so much as look at a calorie it takes up residence in my butt cheeks?
Speaking of my butt, my phone vibrates in my ass pocket. There’s a message from the bestie on the screen.
Eloise: Are you panicking? Please don’t panic. Raffi’s a nice guy, and he’s not going to leave you again.
Tori: It’s not Raffi I’m worried about. What if he decides he doesn’t like me?
The bagel lies heavy in my stomach. Why are we like this to ourselves? We tell our friends and our kids they’re the best thing in the world and mean it, but when it comes to self-talk we often don’t truly believe all the good things we say. Or anyone else says about us for that matter.
We can be such assholes to ourselves. I’m a fucking delight. I know this. But add in a boy I want to really like me, and I’m questioning everything about myself.
The fuck is that all about?
Eloise: Of course he likes you. What’s not to like? You’re a delight aren’t you?
I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. It’s like she’s in my head right now.
