Chapter 16
LUCY
Ifeel like crap. My period started unexpectedly, and the cramps have been unbearable. The procedure I had after Levi’s birth was supposed to help manage my endometriosis, but this cycle is proving to be a rough one.
Micah and Levi are on the floor watching Bluey as I rot away on the couch with my heating pad and a finished bowl of ice cream on the table.
They’ve been wild since we got home from school, and I’m thankful for the moment of calm the Australian dogs are providing me.
There must be a full moon coming because even my students were more restless than normal today.
My bladder screams at me, so I sneak off the couch and creep over to the bathroom. As soon as they realize I’m gone, chaos will ensue, so I’m determined to make this quick.
Normally, I’d use the bathroom in my room during this time of the month since it has all my supplies, but I have to pee so bad that the downstairs bathroom is my only option. I hustle over to it, quietly kicking the door closed behind me so no kids come in.
It’s my heavy day where I need a tampon and pad to contain the mess my uterus is trying to unleash. When I look down at my pad I silently curse. I’ve bled through another tampon, and I don’t have any down here.
Fuck.
I wipe and pull up my pants right as Levi bursts through the door holding his iPad. “I play, Mama?”
Taking the tablet from him, I punch in the parent code.
“Why is that all red, mama?” He points to the toilet water that I had yet to flush due to his interruption.
Shit. What do I say? I’m not ready to have that talk with him yet, because I definitely don’t need him repeating it to his entire preschool class. And he would.
“I… uhhh… That’s what happens when you drink too much red Kool-Aid, buddy.” Fuck, that was quick thinking. I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’s going to buy my lie, but he shrugs and runs out of the room.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Micah hands me his iPad so I can unlock it, and both boys run upstairs to play. After I take care of my tampon, I collapse back onto the couch.
Yes, I’m using technology to babysit my children.
I’m a terrible parent. Actually, scratch that, I’m a tired single parent with no one to relieve me, and I just need a fucking break sometimes.
And they normally don’t get more than an hour of iPad time a day.
A few hours on a Friday night isn’t going to kill them.
Besides, Bella’s son Isaac is a coding genius and created a program that blocks them from talking to strangers that DM them in these games.
It also has a feature that can tell if they’re trying to play something beyond the age bracket I set.
Instead of telling them they don’t have access to it, it redirects them to an age-appropriate game, so they never know what they’re missing.
It’s actually kind of genius. And he fixed my iCloud issue.
I lie there, watching an episode of Bluey that’s still playing despite the fact that the boys left the room over thirty minutes ago.
Oh fuck, it’s the “Sleepytime” episode. This one always makes me sob.
I watch as Bingo cries when Floppy leaves her to join her kind around the ring of Saturn.
A few tears glide down my cheeks, and I swipe at them.
Stupid perfect kids’ show making me feel my feelings.
A knock sounds at my door, and my head pops up looking at it as though I’ll be able to see through it. My phone buzzes on the table, and I see a message from Mike.
Open up, gorgeous.
Oh my God, I look and feel like shit. I stand, wrapping the blanket around me as I waddle to the door, cracking it open a sliver.
“Hey, I know I’m twenty minutes early, but I…what’s wrong?” Mike takes a step closer, and I feel like a total asshole.
“Shit. I totally forgot we had a date tonight. I’m so sorry, it’s been a long week at school,” I say, defeated.
He grabs the door, forcing it open wider, looking me directly in the eyes. “What’s wrong, a chroí?”
I chew my lip, hesitating as I figure out what to tell him.
This is ridiculous, I am a thirty-three-year-old woman, I’ve had periods for most of my life, and yet I’m still scared to tell a man that I can’t hang out with him because my uterus decided that she wanted to torture me three days early this month.
Before I can come up with a believable lie, he presses the back of his palm against my forehead. Even though I don’t have a fever, the coolness of his hand feels refreshing against my warm skin, and I shiver against him.
“Sorry my hands are cold. Forgot my gloves.”
“I don’t have a fever.”
“I know you don’t. I just wanted an excuse to touch ya.”
My responding smile is embarrassing, and I bite my lip trying to contain it.
“It’s feckin’ cold out here. Can I at least come in for a minute?”
I let out a sigh and nod, backing away so he can open the door. A cramp hits me suddenly, and I stumble for a second on my way to the couch.
“Feckin’ Christ. What’s wrong?” Mike asks, placing a hand on the small of my back as he guides me to the couch.
“It’s nothing,” I say as I close my eyes and flop down, curling on my side as I put the heating pad on my lower abdomen. I probably should be embarrassed by how pathetic I look, but I’m out of fucks to give at this point.
“Ah,” Mike says as if he’s figured out the answer to a riddle I didn’t share with him.
The clatter of my spoon against the empty bowl startles me, and when I open my eyes, I see Mike walking with it into the kitchen as he puts it in the dishwasher.
“What are you doing?” I call out.
He walks toward me, his long legs eating up the distance between us in a few short strides. “I’m helping. I’ve noticed that the cleaner your house is, the calmer your brain is.”
My mouth opens and shuts like it wants to speak, but I’m at a complete loss for what to say. How does he know that?
“What are we watching?” He nods at the TV and sits on the end of the couch near my feet. I secretly wish he would touch me, but he keeps his distance, and I grab the remote, unpausing the show. “Ah, Bluey. I love this episode.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You watch Bluey?”
“A few guys at the firehouse have kids, and they’ve put it on to entertain them during visits. And we may have left it on after their kids left. For hours. It’s quite good. I’m mad about the grannies.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
I don’t know what to say so I lie back on the couch, and we watch several episodes together in silence.
When the show changes to Caillou, I reach for the remote. Fuck that whiny bald-headed kid. But Mike swipes it off the table first.
“What do you really want to watch?”
“I can’t watch the mindless trash I really want to watch without worrying about little ears running in.”
He flips through a few channels before landing on an episode of Curious George. It’s one I’ve seen dozens of times.
“I’m convinced that Professor Wiseman has something going on with the Man in the Yellow Hat. Why else would they keep sneaking off together and leaving George alone to get in all that trouble? They know that monkey is always up to no good, yet they keep leaving him alone?”
He laughs. “And you think it’s because they’re feckin’ horned up for each other?” It’s not clear if he knows all the characters I’m talking about or if he’s just humoring me, but for once I’m unbothered, just enjoying being in his company.
“Oh, they’re definitely horned up. And don’t get me started on Mayor Humdinger and Mayor Goodway on Paw Patrol. I think they create drama just so they can sneak off together.”
“Do you always fantasize about cartoon characters doing it?”
“When you watch the same three seasons on constant repeat, you have to invent new storylines to hold your interest. And then when you start really paying attention, I swear you’ll notice things, little clues the animators leave in.”
“I think you’re reading too many of your girly books.”
“What do you know about my books?”
“I know you like to read them on your phone when you think no one’s watching.
And you think you have a good poker face, but whenever you get to a spicy scene, you’ll look around quickly and then bite your lip as you continue reading.
Maybe no one notices the way you squeeze your thighs together when you get turned on by the naughty bits. But I do. I see you.”
Warmth fills me at his words. We’ve been hanging out for about a month, and I’m surprised he’s already figured that out about me.
“Who’s your favorite author?”
I sit up a little on the couch as he scoots closer, pulling my feet into his lap.
“I’ve really gotten into this author named Ayana Cox.
She writes the best characters. I’ve read everything in her backlist, and I’ve been dying to meet her, but she doesn’t do signings or in-person events.
She doesn’t even show her picture online.
Her characters feel like real people that I’d actually want to hang out with. ”
“And fuck?” he asks, squeezing my foot.
“If her male main characters were real people, I absolutely would. I might even add it to my list,” I say with a smirk.
“Why does that make me want to beat their fictional arses?”
“I dunno. You really should work on your anger issues, friend,” I tease, poking him in the chest with my toe.
He lunges toward me, pinning me to the couch, and I squeal, surprised by the intense look in his eyes.
“Does this feel like I’m just your friend?” He thrusts his hard cock against me, and I whimper.
His eyes search mine, and he leans down and runs his nose along my jawline. When he reaches my ear, he nips at the lobe. “If we were alone and there was no chance the boys could interrupt us, I would show you just how unfriendly I can be. Would you want that?”
I nod, exposing more of my neck to him.
“Good, cuz I’m going to light up this perfect, plump arse with my hand until your dripping all over my lap, begging me to fuck you.”
“I’m on my—”
“Period? I don’t give a fuck. A little blood isn’t going to keep me away from this gorgeous cunt. But if you want to wait a few days, that’s up to you.” He tugs at my ear again with his teeth.
“Mama! The tablet died!” Levi wails from upstairs.
I shove Mike off me, and we separate on the couch just in time for Levi to walk into the room.
Levi sees Mike and drops the tablet, runs over to the couch, and launches himself into Mike’s body.
I watch it play out in slow motion, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. “Levi, no!”
His knee connects with Mike’s crotch, and Mike lets out a low groan that I can feel deep in my gut.
“I’m so sorry!” I say, pulling Levi off him.
“It’s okay,” Mike grunts. I feel so bad as I watch him slump over on the couch, hands between his legs.
“I sorry!” Levi says, patting Mike on the head.
“It was an accident, buddy,” Mike offers, his words coming out in punctuated gasps.
“Kiss it, Mama! Kiss it better!” Levi begs, yanking on my sleeve.
Miraculously, I stifle my laugh as Mike lets out another keening groan. “No, buddy. Mr. Mike is hurt in a place where kisses won’t help.”
Levi examines Mike’s slumped form. “On your pee-niss?” he whisper-shouts.
I bite my lip and nod. “Yup, you got him good. Let’s give him a minute to recover.”
——————
How’s the injury?
It’s been two days, and I can still feel my nuts in my stomach.
I’m so sorry.
It happens. I felt bad about the way I left. Can I make it up to you?
You’re fine. You walked out of here with barely a limp.
I cried in my car the whole drive home.
I’m not laughing, I promise.
You can laugh.
Good because I totally am. Getting hit in the nuts is never not funny.
He got me in the dick too. Impeccable aim, that one.
All things aside, not as good as the fart date, but still one of my favorite dates.
That was not a date.
It was a date. We have one left.
But that one doesn’t count.
Just like the other one shouldn’t count when you watched my kids.
It followed all the rules. At your house. With the boys.
I’m trying really hard to follow your rules here
What if you didn’t?
Try hard?
Follow my rules.
Don’t take pity on me because your kid nailed me in the balls.
I want to earn your trust fair and square.
I already broke your no kissing rule. And I know I fucked up at the hospital when I didn’t stay with Micah like I said I would.
I was going to, but then I saw you with him and I thought I’d give you time together.
And I should have apologized for this sooner, but I’m sorry, Lucy.
I’ve been trying to show you that you can count on me.
Instead of reading his text as a rejection like I normally would, I let his words sink in, letting them permeate my hard shell.
This man has shown up for me and my kids since the moment we first met him, and I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid to not see what he’s been doing this entire time.
Keeping him at arm’s length, pretending this is just sex—just a list we’re completing—is the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.
Except for that one time at the hospital, he’s done everything he said he would, and everything I’ve asked of him. He’s told me how he feels, told me the truth even when I didn’t ask for it, gone above and beyond to make me and my kids feel special.
We’re not just friends with benefits. It’s time I finally put on my big-girl panties and do more than just hump the hot firefighter.