“Sometimes I forget just how smart you are. That’s definitely one reason.”
“I’m happy it’s her.”
Now I get choked up again. “Me too.”
She drops her head onto my shoulder and the two of us sit here, lost in our thoughts.
“You have school tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today now.”
“And you have work.”
“We’re both going to be tired then.”
She giggles, and never has a sound made me smile the way this one does. “I went into your office earlier. I saw the plot of land on your computer. The blueprints for the house. It’s not just sketches anymore. It’s actual blueprints.”
“Oh?” That catches my attention.
“The land is six million dollars?”
I chuckle at her shocked tone. “It is.”
“But there’s no house on there. That’s just the land. You’d have to build the house.”
I kiss the top of her head, breathing in her sweet, clean scent. “It’s a lot of land, and this is Boston. What did you think of it?”
She looks up. “Will you build me another greenhouse?”
I press another kiss, this one to her forehead. “Bigger than the one you have now, yes. And with all that land…”
She climbs onto my lap the way she used to when she was a little girl, and I just about lose my shit again. My arms snake around her, and I hold my baby because when the hell will I ever get this chance again? She’s growing. So fast. Too fast.
“Do I have to be a doctor when I grow up?”
I laugh at her scrunched-up, grossed-out expression. “It’s the Fritz way.”
“Uh-uh. Aunt Rina is a nurse.”
I grin at her I got you there expression. “But she’s still in the medical field,” I tease.
“Daaad,” she whines with a sing-song inflection.
“It’s medicine or bust, kiddo. Sorry.”
“Then I’m running away tonight.”
I pinch her side, and she smacks at me, but my tone grows serious. “You can be whatever you want to be as long as you’re happy. That’s all I ever care about.”
“Then I think I want to be a chef. Open a restaurant called Stella’s that serves food I grow.”
“I think that would be incredible.” And I do. Truly. She’s an Abbot-Fritz and has a trust fund bigger than the gross national income of some small countries. She can make all her dreams come true and then some.
“I guess I might like the idea of moving and building that house. Can we show the land to Elle?”
I lean back against the step, my eyebrows at my hairline. “You want her to see it?”
She turns her head fully in my direction and nods exuberantly, her bony butt digging into my thighs, and I adjust her on me. “I love her too.”
God, this girl.
“I’d be okay with it if she was my stepmom one day.”
And now I’m about to cry like a pussy again.
“We’ll talk about it another day. Like I said, she might not be ready for all that yet. Us Fritzes are a lot to take on.”
“I think she could handle it.”
“I hope so.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Maybe I shouldn’t even be thinking along those lines, but I did, and I am, and fuck it. I want it. I want it all, and I want it with Elle.
“I’m beat, and you need to get some sleep.”
She groans like the teenager she is and climbs off my lap, standing up and stretching out her limbs as a yawn hits her lips. Without waiting for me, she trudges up the stairs, heading for her room, and I follow, pulling her in for another hug in front of her door because I’ll never get enough of them.
“Night, Bellas. I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
She shuts the door, leaving me out here, and it’s almost as if I don’t know what to do with myself now. I never thought I’d feel like this again. Never dreamed of it because I never wanted it.
“Thank you, Reese,” I whisper and walk down the hall to my room.
It’s pitch-black in here, but I find my way to my window and stare out toward Elle’s dark one. She’s asleep. Barely stirred when I finally dragged myself away. It was torture, and I miss her already. Wish I were back in her warm bed with her sweet body wrapped around mine.
This thing between us is tricky. But now she’s ours, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep her that way.
28
“Penis,” I say with a loud, unmistakably confident voice. “Vagina. Breasts. Testicles.”
Everyone in the room either blushes, giggles lightly under their breath, or both.
“Come on,” I cajole. “It’s your turn. Say those four words and say them loud and proud.”
Nothing.
“Y’all, we can’t talk about sex until you’re comfortable with the parts of your anatomy, and I will not allow slang in my classroom. So, let’s do this. Penis. Vagina. Breasts. Testicles. Sing ’em out now.”
More giggles, but then some of the wise-ass boys take this as their moment to shine and start shouting them out. But since that’s the point of this exercise, for once, I encourage them. The fact that I’m standing in front of twenty thirteen and fourteen-year-olds yelling out penis and vagina is not a scenario I saw coming when I left David.
But now, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’m so here for it.
“Remember, my room is Vegas. Let’s preach this out so we get all this awkwardness over simple words out of our systems. Then we can get to the good stuff.”
“Like sex?” Justin Thompson asks, his eyes trained right on me. Yeah, the little shit likes to flirt with his much older teacher.
“Like sex,” I reply, staring straight back. “Do we need a little encouragement?” I grab my phone that’s sitting beside where I’m perched on the front of my desk and unlock it. I already have the song cued up, so I hit play, making sure the speaker is as loud as it can go. Salt-N-Pepa’s “Let’s Talk About Sex” blasts through the room.
I hop off my desk, grab the large bag of Hershey Kisses I had hiding behind me, and tear it open. If the awesome ’90s hip-hop beat doesn’t get the kids going, sugar certainly will. So much for wellness.
“Pop Quiz hotshots,” I say, stealing a note from Speed as I walk down the center aisle. “What happens if someone asks a question in this class?”
“We listen and answer respectfully. No making fun of anyone,” Candice, a goody too-shoes if ever there was one, answers.
I toss her a chocolate that she fumbles and has to dive for. “That is correct. Are we going to make recommendations, jokes, or inappropriate comments on things like vibrators, dildos, lubricants, or best techniques for masturbation or sexual positions?”
“Um. No?” Katherine Ford answers it like a question, but I’ll give her credit for being brave enough to answer that one in the first place and toss her a candy.
“That is also correct. If you have specific questions you’d rather not ask aloud, you can drop them in the questions box I have at the front of the room. I am the only one who will read them and feel free to leave them anonymous if that makes you more comfortable. I will answer questions I deem appropriate as they come along. Anything inappropriate will not be answered, so save it if you’re going to use it as a mechanism for being lude. Nothing embarrasses me and nothing rattles me.”