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So, did I want to risk telling her about the feelings I had for her—feelings that had been growing since that day in the freezer section?
Did I want to chance her not feeling the same and leaving?
Did I want to possibly put her in an awkward position where she felt stuck in the job because she needed the room and money even though she was creeped out by her older boss?
“You seem distracted,” Lexie said as she opened the pizza we’d had delivered before glancing down at her phone.
“Could say the same about you,” I teased. “You’ve looked at your phone like ten times in the last minute.”
“Ugh, it’s this dating app,” she said.
I nearly doubled over as if she’d punched me in the stomach.
Well.
Hell.
I guess that was my answer to whether or not I let her know how I felt.
“This guy is so pushy. Like, I’ve told him I’m not interested, but he doesn’t seem to get it.” She swiped at her phone. “There. Blocked. I feel so much better.”
“But you’re interested in dating?”
She shrugged, her cheeks pinking. “Honestly, I am, but I’m kinda hung up on someone in particular. I just haven’t gotten rid of the app. It’s more just like a train wreck I can’t look away from—sometimes it can be pretty entertaining.”
“Why don’t you approach the guy you’re interested in?”
She shrugged again. “It’s kinda a weird situation and I don’t want to make things weirder.”
Damn, girl. I get it.
“Maybe it’s not as weird as you think. Would it hurt to at least let him know how you feel? If he’s worth dating—and you deserve worthy guys only—he probably wouldn’t let a little weirdness cause a problem.”
She stared at me for a long time before finally nodding and taking a bite of pizza. “That’s actually really good advice. I think maybe I’ll let him know.”
We finished our pizza while watching a few episodes of sitcom.
“You want to watch this?” I gestured to the show coming on next. It was a romantic drama I thought looked decent—at least it could serve to pull me into a fictional story that had to be more satisfying than being a lonely, single father.
“Yeah, looks good. You want any wine?” She asked as she carried our trash to the kitchen.
“Please,” I called out.
Lexie returned with two glasses of wine and settled on the couch with me.
The show was actually really good—and the sexy times were a double-edged sword reminding me both of what I didn’t have and exactly what I wanted.
But the problem was, I wanted it with Lexie.
And only Lexie.
Later that night, after checking on a sleeping Jack—I swear, the kid was even sleeping better since Lexie arrived—I climbed into bed and sighed as my mind automatically drifted to the pretty, intriguing, amazing girl down the hall.
She was young, but so damn smart. She’d come into our life and taken charge, making things better from day one.
Part of me knew I needed to just forget about her—we weren’t in a position where sex or dating orwhateverwould be a good idea.
But the other part of me argued there was absolutely no reason Lexie and I couldn’t explore something between us.
