14. Sean
FOURTEEN
SEAN
It happens . Those were her exact words. I stared at the ceiling in my bedroom and frowned, sheets twisted around my restless legs.
Did it happen, though? How often did it happen that men got hard and pressed themselves against her the way I had? And why did that thought make me want to tear my own skin off?
She’d waved me off like it had meant nothing to her, and I’d nearly lost my mind.
Maybe it was all this talk of matchmaking. I hadn’t been on a date in a long time, so the prospect of spending time with a woman was making my body go haywire. Maybe the Butlers had been right, and it was time for me to put myself out there. I could date someone; it didn’t have to be anything serious. I didn’t have to introduce her to Mikey or think about marriage and commitment.
So maybe my agitation was generalized; I needed to blow off some steam.
Or maybe it was just the fact that Lizzie was soft and plush and kind and perfect. I didn’t want to blow off some steam. I wanted her . I wanted to tug the knot of her sweater and let it fall open so I could admire her body. Touch her. Taste her. Watch her face while I made her come on my hand. I wanted her writhing and desperate and begging for me.
But— it happens .
Sighing, I scrubbed my palms over my face. It was all well and good to find her irresistible, but she was my best friend’s little sister. I couldn’t mess things up. Not when Mikey was smiling and laughing so soon after the move. Not when he seemed to have found a friend in Zach, when he’d integrated into his school so well and so quickly.
“Dad?”
I turned to see my son in my doorway, his hand gripping the jamb while one foot scratched at the back of his opposite calf.
“Yeah?”
He took a step into my room. “I just wanted to say thanks. For the tree and everything.”
All the fight and tension went out of me. I pushed myself up to a seated position and leaned my head against the headboard. “You were right about the tree, buddy. It looks really good, and it was fun to decorate it together. I should have gotten one every year.”
“Do you think…” He bunched his lips to the side, then wandered into the room and climbed onto my bed.
“Do I think what?”
Mikey brought his knees up and rested his cheek on them, eyes shining in the dark as he looked at me. “Do you think we could spend Christmas together next year?”
Guilt churned my stomach to a froth. I swallowed thickly and put my arm around Mikey’s shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. “Your mom gets Christmases, kiddo.”
“I know.” He sounded sad. “I just thought it would be nice. Maybe we could visit Aaron and Lizzie and everyone. When I’m with Mom, there’s no one else around.”
Kids had a special kind of skill for finding weakness and stabbing you there, then casually twisting the knife. I kissed the top of his head. “We’ll see,” I said, cursing myself for promising Melody every Christmas.
Then again, the closer we got to the holiday, the more vivid my memories would become. I knew from experience that things only got worse from here. Setting up a tree in my living room was one thing, especially when I got to distract myself with my son’s smiles and Lizzie’s presence. Actually putting on a happy face for longer than an hour or two was another story.
Soon, when holiday music played everywhere and red, green, and gold tinsel decorated the whole town, it would be harder to ignore memories of my father’s angry drinking. My mother’s body wasting away. And the final, horrible Christmas when I found out about Melody’s betrayal.
I’d need to retreat somewhere safe and isolated. I knew it, because it happened every year.
I asked Mikey about school and listened as he told me about his classmates, his teacher, and the new friends he’d made. When he got drowsy, I carried him to his room like I used to do when he was half the size he was now. He curled into his pillow and was asleep before I straightened up.
Watching the rise and fall of his chest for a few moments, I wondered how many of my decisions had been mistakes. Should I have forgiven Melody? Should I have fought harder to make things work between us? Should I have moved here earlier? Should I have found someone else to act as a mother figure to Mikey? Should I have worked shorter hours to spend more time with him years ago, and dealt with the financial pressure that would follow?
Just like every other time doubts swarmed me as a parent, I had no answers. I brushed my hand over my son’s shoulder and left his room on soft feet.
The next day, when I asked Aaron about finding a babysitter for my date on Saturday, his response should have been predictable.
“Just ask Lizzie,” he said, the sound of the TV blaring in the background of the call. “She’ll be happy to help.”
“She’s done so much for me already,” I said, “I don’t want to bother her.”
“She loves it,” Aaron said. “Really. It’s no problem. She basically lives and breathes kids twenty-four-seven. You want me to ask her?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said.
“Who’s this chick she set you up with?”
“Coworker of hers, I think.”
“She hot?”
I sipped the coffee I’d just picked up from Four Cups on my way to work and shrugged, even though Aaron wouldn’t be able to see the movement. “Sure,” I replied.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“Haven’t been on a date in a while.”
Aaron laughed. “Me neither. You’ll be fine.”
I got in my truck and set my coffee in the cupholder, huffing. “We’ll see.”
“I’ll talk to Lizzie for you, tell her you need her to watch Mikey.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll call her.”
“Suit yourself.”
We hung up, and I made my way to work. If I didn’t call Lizzie right away, it was because I was focused on the job—and on making a good impression with Grant. It wasn’t because I was avoiding her or because there was something weird about lusting after her last night, then asking her to watch my kid while I went on a date a few days later.
Maybe I could cancel the date altogether. It was already turning out to be more hassle than it was worth.
So, by the time school pick-up rolled around, I still hadn’t made the call. I pulled up outside the school and found Lizzie standing in a clump of other mothers, their breaths puffing white in a cloud above them. As soon as I got out of the car, half of them turned to look.
When Lizzie finally followed their gazes and saw me, her smile bloomed as it always did, showing off the dimples in her full cheeks. She walked toward me. “My brother just asked me if you’d talked to me,” she said by way of greeting. “Any idea what it’s about?”
I rubbed the back of my neck and glanced toward the school doors, which remained closed. “I asked him about a babysitter for Saturday night, and he said you might know someone,” I lied.
Lizzie’s eyebrow arched. “He said I might know someone, or he told you to ask me?”
I huffed, tilting my head. “Told me to ask you. But you’ve done enough favors for me. I hate to ask you for another one.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Lizzie said, reaching over to squeeze my forearm. Her eyes were kind and a little sad. She took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself. “Tell you what, how about we organize a sleepover? Zach would love it. That way you don’t need to worry about being home by a certain time in case things with Laurel go well.”
“Lizzie…”
“It’s no problem,” she insisted, her smile brightening, but not quite shaking the shadows from her eyes. “Mikey is so well-behaved, and it would make Zach happy. I really think you and Laurel are a good match. I’d hate for you to have to cut your date short if you’re getting along. Trust me! It’s a win-win.”
It didn’t feel like a win-win. It felt like Lizzie was taking a giant step away from me, but I knew how to take a hint. I’d made her uncomfortable with what happened with the tree, and she was drawing a thick line in the sand between us. So despite the pinch in my chest, I dipped my chin. “Thank you,” I told her. “That sounds great.”
She gave me a nod, then turned to look at the school doors. We didn’t speak until they opened and released the horde of children to their waiting parents’ arms.