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“We are definitely not sleeping together,” I assure her. For some reason, it’s important to me that she believes that but I’m not sure why. “Her husband is one of my closest friends. Besides, she’s not my type.”
She eyes me suspiciously and takes a large sip of her own drink, squeezing her eyes shut as the alcohol hits her system. She laughs as she sets her glass back down on the table and looks at me shyly.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” she says, already sounding more relaxed. “Of all the things I thought we’d talk about, I didn’t imagine I’d spill the employee secrets.”
“You imagined what we’d talk about?” My interest is piqued. Once again, I realize how fit she is, how pretty her face is. I suddenly can’t believe I’ve been so insistent on ignoring her all this time. She’s gorgeous. And she’s blushing.
“I mean, I never thought we would ever have a conversation,” she backtracks. “Like I said, you only ever talk to Meredith. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile at anyone else.”
“I don’t like smiling,” I admit. “It’s a sign of weakness.”
She snorts into her drink, then blushes deeper, clearly embarrassed.
“You’re not in danger of looking weak,” she says, covering up the action. “I don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you and made that mistake.”
I smile at this and catch her eye. For a moment, we sit there grinning at each other like idiots. This isn’t me. Not the smiling or the innocent banter. I save my rare smiles for girls I want to sleep with. Even then, they’re less than genuine. It’s been forever since I’ve smiled at a woman because she’s genuinely made me happy.
No, I can’t fall into that trap. Melissa the dance teacher is only a girl who needed someone in a specific moment. I was the poor bastard who happened to be around. Yet, I’m mesmerized by the way her lips pucker after every sip of her drink. I’ve already memorized the way her eyes light up when she’s said something she thinks she shouldn’t have. I imagine those eyes staring into mine as I bring her to the peak of pleasure.
I shake my head and look down at my hands, eternally grateful when the waiter shows up with our food. Whether I should sleep with this girl isn’t the question. It’s more a matter of when I’m going to do it. How much time needs to pass after an event like this for it to be appropriate? There’s also the matter of her being the polar opposite of any other girl I’ve hooked up with.
She won’t be the type I can flirt with in the club, or one of the bar women who knows it’s going down from a mere look. She’s classier, more refined. She’ll need to be wined and dined, and not out of responsibility.
I also have to consider she absolutely would be one of those girls to imagine our future. She’s already admitted she’s noticed me and has been thinking about me. If I sleep with her, she might take it the wrong way. She might assume I want something. More than I do, and she’d be disappointed when I don’t give it to her. I can’t avoid her.
Seer’s assigned me to the center every Friday afternoon. I can’t avoid her if this goes wrong. Damn him, once again cockblocking me. Then again, I could go back to ignoring her if it went wrong. I’ve been doing it for the last three months. She might be upset, but it’s not like that’s bothered me before.
“How are you feeling?” I ask after she’s had a few minutes to enjoy her meal.
She swallows and holds up her hand, examining it carefully. It’s steady now, not shaky at all. I could leave it here, consider this a fluke. I’ll go back to ignoring her, pretending she doesn’t exist. She’s fine now. I’ve done my duty.
Only the thought of ignoring her after this feels hollow. How can I overlook her now when I’m so attuned to her voice, her smile, her eyes? No, ignoring her isn’t an option anymore. I screwed up, thinking I was doing a kind thing for a friend’s employee. I should have driven her home and had her call a friend to come stay with her. I’ve undone years of careful avoidance and feigned indifference now by getting involved more than I should have. There is a niggle in the back of my head that says Melissa will be impossible to ignore now, and that can only mean trouble.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Thursday mornings are my absolute hell. It’s almost the weekend, but not near enough to feel relieved. It’s also the day I have to take care of both kids. Abigail has meetings all morning. Usually, we split the work, her taking Benji to daycare and me taking Daisy to school. On Thursdays, I’m in charge of both. Neither of my kids makes the morning very easy.
When I wake up Daisy, she’s immediately upset about the outfit Abigail picked out for her. She screams and cries until I cave in and let her pick her own outfit. I leave her to get dressed while I wake up Benji. Benji who’s fully in the throes of his terrible twos and doesn’t sleep much through the night. Naturally, when I try to wake him up, he screams bloody murder because he’s so tired.
Honestly, on days like this, I miss having guns shoved into my face. Better a gun than a screaming kid. I get Benji ready, blocking out the screams and moving through his morning routine. Change diaper, change clothes, brush his teeth, get him downstairs for breakfast. Daisy is already sitting at the kitchen table, demanding I make her pancakes. A quick glance at the clock shows me we have exactly enough time for cereal and yogurt. Besides, my pancakes always come out lumpy.
Abigail will back over me with her car if she sees what Daisy’s picked out to wear. She’s wearing swim shorts and a princess t-shirt with mismatched socks and flip flops. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, knotted on top of her head. I pour out her cereal and open a yogurt for her, then hand Benji his usual breakfast of applesauce and milk.
He has to eat breakfast in front of a cartoon or he’ll scream, but Daisy isn’t allowed to watch TV with him because it makes her concentrate less in class, apparently. Today, rules be damned. I have to run upstairs to get the magic hair spray that detangles her hair and find a better pair of shorts and shoes to match her shirt.
I do this all as quickly and efficiently as I can. When I get downstairs, both kids are in tears. Cereal is all over the kitchen floor. It has to be a later problem. I have exactly ten minutes to get Daisy changed and manage her hair before I wrestle them both into the car. She fights me the whole time. She screams at the top of her lungs when I brush her hair, no matter how gently I try to do it. It doesn’t help that I feel all her emotions. She’s projecting them onto her brother. She can’t help it, but her time at the center is making it better. I let her stay in her mismatched socks, letting her display some of her personal style.
Getting into the car is another fight I’m too exhausted to deal with. Benji tries to bite me as I strap him into his car seat. Daisy says she’s too big to be sitting in a booster seat.
“Daisy, my love,” I say in my calmest possible tone. “I agree that you’re a big girl. And as a big girl, I need you to understand that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to. Your booster seat is one of those things.”
She crosses her arms and glares at me, waiting for me to come to her side of the van and buckle her in even though she knows how to do it herself.
“Another thing big girls have to do is set a good example for their little brothers,” I tell her gently as I strap her in. “It would help Daddy if you could help Benji calm down.”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, frustrated but compliant. A serene look comes over her face. Benji immediately stops fighting. I hate manipulating Daisy to use her powers on her brother, but on days like this, it’s the only way to maintain my sanity. With both kids quiet and calm, I drive them to their respective locations. I drop Benj off first, knowing the second he’s away from Daisy’s influence, he’ll start screaming his head off.
Thankfully, for the next eight hours, it’s his daycare teacher’s job to calm him down. On our way to Daisy’s school, I put on her favorite kid’s station and smile at her little voice singing along to the nonsense songs. She does dance moves along to the words. She loves dancing. I’m glad it’s offered at the center now. It’s helped her chill out the last few months.
