Page 26 of Anything But Lonely

This is not what I need to be thinking about.

Who cares if my nanny has pictured me naked? I hate to admit it, but it’s safe to say she’s not the only one. It’s par for the course with my job.

It’s never bothered me before, barely even crossed my mind.

But that was before I knew it was possible that someone like Emerson could be in the crowd, watching me in the place I feel the most comfortable, pouring everything I have into my performance until there’s nothing left, fantasizing about me.

Too bad for her; she’s better off sticking to the fantasy.

It’s been years—literal years—since I’ve had sex.

I stayed committed to my marriage until the divorce papers were signed, even though it had been at least two years, probably since Crew was conceived, that Talia and I were even intimate.

And now, two more years later, the thought of trying to get a woman into bed gives me heart palpitations.

I’m a divorced, single dad of a four-year-old. I’m pushing forty, for fuck’s sake.

There’s no way I’d ever live up to anyone’s fantasy—especially someone like Emerson—not when the stage lights go down, and I’m no longer the lead singer of a rock band.

She’s beautiful; she’s confident; she’s young. And she’s completely off-limits.

Double fuck.

I resist the urge to groan out loud, not wanting to wake Crew. It was a feat to get him down in the first place, and I think he’s only still asleep because of how busy yesterday was for him.

Talia leaving, him not being home, it’s not going to be easy on him. And it’s my job as his father to do everything I can to not make it any harder on him.

And that means not lusting over his nanny.

Careful not to move the bed too much, I roll to my side, exhaling a long breath as I close my eyes. But sleep evades me, over and over again, until the early morning light begins to peek through the curtains, and I feel Crew beginning to stir.

“Daddy?” I hear his little voice just as he crawls over to me, his body resting over my shoulder. “Are you awake?”

Rolling onto my back, I close my eyes, pretending to snore as loud as I can.

Crew giggles. “Daddy, wake up.”

I inhale noisily before blowing out a breath through my lips, hard enough to make my lips flap together before more dramatic snoring, putting on my best show.

Crew’s giggles turn to bigger laughs as he continues to try and wake me up.

“Daddy!” he exclaims, and I hear the smile in his voice.

And that’s when I strike. “Good,” I start, stretching out the word before opening my eyes and catching him in my arms, digging my fingers into his sides, “morning!”

The more I tickle him, the more full-on belly laughs I get, making me grin ear to ear.

“How’d you sleep, buddy?” I ask when he settles back into the bed next to me, his laughter dying down.

“I like this big bed,” he says, his hands folded over his tummy. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all different ways, and he’s wearing his favorite Halloween pajamas, even though it’s about to be December. “Why is the bed so big?” he then adds, his curiosity always at the forefront of his brain.

“So we can both fit in it,” I answer matter-of-factly, knowing this is the first of many questions Crew will be asking me today.

He goes on to ask why we both can fit in, which is followed by why we need sleep and why we sleep at night. It isn’t until I finish telling him why we aren’t like the bats on his pajamas who sleep during the day that he finally grants me a reprieve of coming up with age-appropriate explanations on the fly.

“What sounds good to eat, bud?” I ask as I help him climb out of bed.

“Waffies,” he answers immediately.