Page 16 of Bad Date, Good Dad


Font Size:  

“Head in, son,” I tell James. “I need to check something.”

The truth is, I’ve just looked out the lobby window and saw Samantha step from her car and take out her phone. Something’s clearly wrong with the vehicle. Maybe it’s fate playing games with us. Throughout my career, I often toyed with the idea of fate. I’ve been far too lucky, far too many times.

“Uh, okay,” James says, walking up the stairs that lead to the main gym.

I head back outside, my heart pumping harder the closer I get to her. It’s been literal minutes, maybe even justoneminute, yet it feels far longer than that.

“Car trouble?” I ask.

Samantha looks up, the corner of her lip twitching. It’s like she’s as happy to see me as I am to see her. I should be cautious and stop reading so much into every gesture or expression, but I can’t help it. I don’twantto.

“It’s been messing me up for a while,” she says. “Mom’s already eaten through most of her savings to help me with college.”

I nod. “How about I give you a ride home? Then I’ll arrange for somebody to come and look at it.”

Her mouth drops open, making her look so cutely shocked I almost kiss her right now. The only thing that stops me is that James could be watching us through the window. Even without kissing her, how will I explain giving his date a ride home?

“Are you sure?” she asks after a pause.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” I reply. “Maybe you could pay me with one of those paintings.”

“Some payment,” she mutters.

“Itissome payment,” I say fiercely. “Your work is brilliant. You should have some confidence in it.”

“You’ve seen one painting,” she says quietly.

“Maybe you could show me more,” I reply, not quiet at all. I’m letting out too much of the fierceness rumbling inside me, the scorching need that dominates me whenever I’m close to her. Or even when we’re separate, come to think of it. I gesture toward my car. “Shall we?”

“Uh, yeah, okay, thank you.”

“Just give me a second…”

To tell my son, I almost say, but instead, I let the sentence hang and then turn back to the gym. She can assume I’m doing some admin task, something unrelated to the steam we will share. I find James waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

“I’m giving Samantha a ride home,” I tell him. “Her car is busted.”

James narrows his eyes at me. Is that jealousy I can feel radiating from him? This is a messed-up position to be in, in competition with my own son. If I were a good person, I’d read his discomfort and tell Samantha to find her own way home, but I can’t fight this hunger. Or maybe I don’t want to.

“Oh, okay,” James replies.

“I shouldn’t be long,” I tell him.

“Why areyougiving her a ride?” he asks.

It’s difficult to answer this. I definitely can’t be honest. Outside the gym, somebody makes a loud banging noise. Or maybe it’s a car. It pisses me off, my reaction. I duck, turn, reaching for my hip like there’s a goddamn gun there. Gritting my teeth, I let my hand drop. It’s annoying as hell when that happens. James sees the whole thing, frowning. I know he probably wants to say something, but I don’t want to talk about it.

“Good publicity for the gym,” I say. “That’s a decent reason for giving somebody a ride, eh?” I try to play it off as a joke, but James is watching me closely.

“Yeah, sure,” he says after a pause.

I turn away and walk back down the stairs. James has never mentioned Samantha before. He didn’t say anything about having a crush on her or anything like that. As far as I know, they had one date, and that was it, but what if James has wanted her for a while now? What if I’m betraying my own son?

The moment I see Samantha standing near my car, awkwardly carrying her art supplies, I’m able to let these concerns go. I find myself actively letting everything else drift away.

Approaching her, I take the art supplies from her arms. Our hands touch. That warmth pulses into me, making my balls swell, my manhood stiffen, and my mind erupt with all the things we could do together. No, wewilldo together.

After stowing her stuff in the trunk, I open the passenger-side door for her. She looks at me from beneath her eyelashes. Overseas, I’d often read novels. I read that phrase many times. I’ve never actually seen it in real life until now. Her gaze is turned down, and she looks up nervously. She’s so, so beautiful.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like