My best friend since we were kids is my opposite in a lot of ways—reckless, compulsive.
Lately, I’ve been feeling more like him than I let on.
Sawyer frowns. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My life’s better with her in it.”
When he arrived at Russell U last year, he had been coming off some legal drama in New York. He didn’t want to be here, but was forced to through circumstances. He decided to stay.
Doesn’t hurt that the woman he loves is finishing her degree here.
“How do you know?” I ask.
My best friend is usually quick with a comeback, but this time he considers.
“I’m a better person with her around. The right woman changes everything.”
A year ago, I would’ve said I’d already met the right woman. I loved her, married her, lost her. And with her, I’d lost my chance at happiness, at least the kind you find with another person.
“How’d things work out the other night after the Rona trip?”
“It’s a work in progress.”
He turns to face me more fully. “You called me over because you needed to get supplies at ten thirty PM to fix a…”
“…mailbox…”
“…right, and you haven’t even fixed it.”
“It wasn’t only about the mailbox.”
Sawyer’s brain performs its lightning-quick calculations.
“I thought it was going well?”
“She’s always there.”
He doesn’t ask who I mean.
“Because you pay her to be.”
The ball flies back up the court. I’m barely watching.
I thought it was a crazy, hot dream.
It wasn’t the first one I’ve had.
We talked days ago but every word is still imprinted on my brain.
“I wish she’d be less…obvious.”
Sawyer chuckles.
“You have it bad.”
“I don’t.”
This weekend she went to Fall Ball with her friends, and except for a glimpse of her in a floor-length dress looking gorgeous, I didn’t see much of her.
Now, it’s another school week and I can’t fall asleep without imagining her on the other side of the wall, wondering if she’s thinking of me too.
“If you’re going to make a move, you have to be sure. I pressured Liv when I shouldn’t have. I will always regret that.” His dark eyes cloud.
“She kissed me first.”
“Who?” Zander leans over.
Great.
I’m not looking to advertise my moral failings, nor the amount of insanity happening under my roof.
But these guys are there for me. Sawyer and I go back, and the other two have been friends since I moved back to town a few years ago.
“My nanny,” I admit. “Who also happens to be a student. Not my student, I’m not that depraved. No offense.”
“None taken,” Sawyer replies cheerfully.
“It’s not happening. I’m not sleeping with her.”
“But you kissed her back.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Yes.”
“This is the first since your wife?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s going to feel weird no matter what. She could be your nanny or some chick from Bumble.”
“But she’s not some woman from Bumble,” I emphasize. “She’s good with Andy. He’s happier with her around. She’s in my home for my son, not for me.”
“What you don’t need to do is feel guilty about it,” Ric weighs in. “My wife and I have talked about that. If something happened to one of us, we’d want the other to be happy. Including getting laid.”
Maybe Ric’s right. Attraction is natural.
I want her. She wants me.
We can be mature grownups about this.
And tonight when I get home, I’ll prove it.
The Russell team scorches the competition.
It’s hard not to get caught up in the enthusiasm, especially when my friends are hollering alongside it.
The beer helps too.
We say our goodbyes with a promise to catch up again soon, and I head home.
The walk is crisp and head-clearing. A perfect late-September evening. I’m whistling as I head up to the door. I let myself in and step inside, kicking off my shoes before padding down the hallway.
I plan to take a hot shower and crash, but when I get to the living room, Kat’s curled up on the couch with a glass of wine in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in her lap. She’s wearing a tank top and shorts and some kind of bandage on her nose, her gaze riveted on the TV.
“I was so good at taking the other Band-Aid off you wanted a repeat performance?” I ask.
She jumps in surprise, and popcorn spills. “I didn’t know you were going to be home so early.”
“It was a bloodbath. Russell destroyed them. Andy asleep?”
“He crashed pretty hard. They had a double header of tag and crafts at school today. Bea made a macaroni cottage. Andy took it on himself to do one better.”
She nods to the coffee table where a meal’s worth of dry pasta is glued to a piece of construction paper.
“A mountain?” I guess.
“A truck. Those are wheels.”
“Ahhh. I see it now.”
Kat laughs and I lean over the couch behind her. “What’re you watching?”
“Selling Sunset. These stunning women sell ridiculously massive houses in LA. Pools, basketball courts, you name it they’ve got it.”
On the screen, a woman with blonde hair almost as long as her legs strides down a street, talking on her phone. Then walks into a cafe where she meets another equally proportioned woman, this one with dark hair. They swap double-cheek kisses and blindingly white smiles before grabbing seats.
For the next minute, neither of them mentions a property listing.
“Are they actually realtors?” I ask, the buzz still very much alive in my head.
“Who knows? Who cares?”
Kat reaches for some popcorn.
Fuck, she’s cute.
The way she talks.
The way she eats.
The way she breathes.
She’s beautiful and funny and playful and underdressed in my living room.
More than that, I enjoy her company.
When I inhale, her vanilla scent washes over me.
The way she looked at me when she told me she dreams about me…she was curious. Hungry.
Just thinking about it has the blood pounding in my veins.
“You warm?” I ask.
“Nope.”
Beer’s fault, then.
I tug off my sweater and round the couch. I drop next to her and reach over to grab some popcorn from the bowl.
“What?” I ask when she turns to stare at me.
“You didn’t even ask,” she says, mock indignant.
“My house. My popcorn.”
Her gaze runs over me, lingering on my arms and shoulders before coming back to my face. “You’ve been drinking.” She announces it smugly.
“Two beers.”
“You told me you get silly when you drink.”
“Silly in a steadfast, respectable way.”
Her lips curve.