“She already knows you’re here,” I point out with a shrug. “I told her we’re friends, and she’s eight, so I don’t think she really cares much beyond that explanation.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
I queue up the movie and hand Watson his glass of wine before leaning back on the couch and getting comfortable, trying not to resent the foot of space between us or my daughter who’s inadvertently cock blocking me.
Livi returns to the living room wearing her Elsa pajama set, settling onto the couch between us without hesitation.
I start the movie and stretch my arm out over the back of the couch. Watson does the same, and our fingers brush, the two of us sharing a secret little smile over Livi’s oblivious head.
It only takes a few minutes before Watson is just as engrossed in the movie as my daughter is, both of them singing along and excitedly discussing the plot together as if they’ve never seen it before.
“I want a moose for a pet,” Livi says.
“You can’t have a moose,” I say firmly. I may be a pushover when it comes to dinner, but I draw the line at a pet moose.
“I have a pet hedgehog,” Watson tells her, and her eyes light up.
“You do? That’s so cool.”
As much as I love seeing the two of them get along, it also adds a whole new weight to my chest. What if Livi gets attached to him and things don’t work out? This is our first date after all. What the hell was I thinking even letting them spend time together this early on? It’ll be bad enough if I have to deal with the heartbreak if things go south, I can’t put my daughter in that same position.
“It’s getting late,” I blurt. “Mr. Black probably needs to get home.”
“But the movie isn’t over,” Livi argues.
“It’s after nine,” I point out firmly. “And you’ve seen this movie a thousand times. You can finish it in the morning.”
She pouts, but I remain firm, and eventually she huffs and hops off the couch, stomping all the way down the hall to her room. I stand up and Watson follows suit, looking worried.
“I’ll be right there to tuck you in,” I call after her.
“Did I do something wrong?” Watson asks.
“No, no, not at all,” I assure him. “I just…um, you know, it’s late, and she needed to get to bed,” I explain lamely, already feeling silly for overreacting a bit at the panic that had gripped me.
“Oh, sure, of course,” he says, clearly not buying it, but polite enough not to call me out.
I walk him to the front door and shamelessly check out his ass when he bends over to put his shoes back on.
“Thanks for dinner,” he says when he stands back up. “I had a nice time tonight.”
“Me too. And I’m sorry again for the unexpected interruption. The night didn’t exactly end how I planned.”
Watson inches closer, his lips tilting up in a wicked smile. “And how did you plan for it to end?” he asks, his voice low so there’s no chance Livi will overhear.
“I was picturing the two of us with a lot less clothes,” I whisper back in a low rumble, and he bites his lip, rolling his eyes back dramatically, just like he did when he was eating dinner.
“Maybe you can show me what you had in mind next time,” he suggests. “If you want there to be a next time, that is?”
I reach for him, putting my hands on his waist and groaning at the feeling of his body against my hands, even in such a minimal capacity. “Hell yes, I want a next time.”
“Thank god,” he mutters with a smile.
“I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he says before glancing over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” I open the door for him and watch as he makes his way to his car, parked just across the street. I’m not sure why he parked there, but I’m glad he did. Otherwise Val would’ve likely had a lot more questions about the mysterious car in my driveway.
Once he pulls away, I close the door and go back into the living room to clean up the still full wine glasses, taking them to the kitchen and pouring the wine down the sink drain. I set the glasses in the sink with plans to wash them tomorrow and lean against the counter.
I pull out my phone to see the missed calls and texts from Val before she dropped Livi off. I clear them all and open the text thread.
Everett: I was on a date tonight actually. He’s an amazing guy, and I’m already crazy about him. I think you’ll like him. I know Livi does.
I read the words back to myself, smiling before I erase them without sending. Then, I back out of the thread and open the one I have with Watson.
Everett: That was the best first date I’ve ever had. Sweet dreams.
I know he won’t see the message right away since he’s driving home, so I lock my phone again and go get ready for bed.
Chapter 14
Watson
I roll over and stretch, yawning widely as I tilt my head to catch a streak of the morning sun across my face. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since I left Ev’s place last night. True, I didn’t anticipate his daughter crashing our date, but in a weird way, it made it all the sweeter. It was nice getting to know her a little better outside of school, and I’m never one to complain about watching Frozen.
I reach for my phone to see if he responded to the text I sent before falling into bed last night. I saw the message from him as soon as I got home, and I may have made a swoony, sigh sound and then proceeded to read it two dozen times in a row before finally texting back “This was your first first date, wasn’t it?”
Sure enough, my phone is blinking with a notification. I unlock it and pull up the text thread immediately, my stomach fluttering with giddy anticipation.
Everett: Irrelevant.
Watson: I mean, it’s a little bit like when my mom used to tell me I was her favorite son, but I guess I’ll take it.
Watson: And for the record, I thought it was an incredible first date too
As soon as I send the second message I wonder if it sounds too eager. Then again, he did send the first schmoopy message, so he can’t get freaked out by my response, right? Before I can spend too much time overthinking, I throw back my covers and get out of bed. Since I slept in my underwear, and it’s November and a bit too cold to go walking around my apartment mostly naked, I pull open my top dresser drawer to grab a pair of flannel pants, tug them on, and then drop my phone into the pocket.
I shuffle to my kitchen, yawning again as I fumble through starting the coffee maker. Once I have a cup of coffee in hand, I plop myself down at my small table just outside the kitchen. I rarely sit at it since it’s piled high with junk mail and random objects that don’t have another home or that I’ve been too lazy to find a good place for. I glance down at the half-finished application to be a foster parent, and my heart clenches. It’s probably not a great time to finish this now that Ev and I have just started dating. On the other hand, if things don’t work out, and let’s face it, my track record is pretty damning, then will I just have wasted another few months not making steps to finally make the life I want? And what if things do work out? Will Ev want more kids or is Olivia enough for him?