Chapter Three
Olivia
I sighed as I sat down on the couch in my living room and pulled a blue throw blanket over my legs.
Despite Jace’s best efforts not to sugar-up my daughter, bedtime had still been a mess of overtired tears and wild-energy stores that I swore made toddlers act drunk.
In fact, drunk people were easier to put to bed than overtired toddlers.
I couldn’t wait to find a job with daytime hours and have Kaylee start preschool so we could establish some consistent schedules around here that didn’t involve relying so much on Mom and Jace for help or keeping Kaylee awake later than she really should be at her age.
I leaned forward and reached for the bowl of popcorn and the glass of wine I’d left on the coffee table and set the wine glass down on the handy little shelf on the arm of the couch that Jace had gotten me for my birthday earlier this year.
According to him, I’d spill less wine if I wasn’t trying to balance it in my hands and text at the same time.
Given that I’d made a mess on the couch on three different occasions pre-shelf and zero times post-shelf, I had to acknowledge he’d been right.
I picked up the remote and started scrolling through the streaming options, looking for a movie to watch.
I’d grown accustomed to spending my weekend nights with a bowl of popcorn, half a bottle of wine, and a rom-com playing quietly while Kaylee slept.
For more than four years, this had basically been my life.
I hadn’t been interested in dating when I was pregnant, then I was a single mom trying to take care of a newborn and I was too tired to even put on pants most days.
For the last couple years, I’d wanted to be home with my daughter at night. She was my priority.
It hadn’t even been hard to adjust my lifestyle given that I’d seen my own mother do the same for me.
My mom had been nineteen when she’d gotten pregnant with me and for my entire life it had been the two of us against the world.
My dad was the kind of guy who’d breeze into town for a weekend and make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, only to disappear for a year afterward.
By the time I realized that cycle would likely continue my entire life, Mom and I had developed a sort of trauma bond from dealing with him.
It wasn’t just me who got my hopes up every time he showed up—at least not the first dozen or so times that he did it.
Eventually, she realized we were both better off without him.
I hadn’t talked to him in years, and I had no interest in finding him now.
When I’d wound up pregnant at twenty-four after a one-night stand with a guy who breezed out of town the next morning, I knew trying to track him down would be a mistake.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t sticking around even though our connection had transcended a normal one-night stand, and I wasn’t about to ask him to change his mind just because we’d been reckless enough not to use a condom.
Still, I was lucky I got Kaylee and not gonorrhea out of the experience. Instead, I channeled my mother’s strength, leaned on her and my friendship with Jace, and I made damn sure Kaylee had just as much love from me as I’d gotten from my mother.
I took a sip of wine, stopped scrolling on a new rom-com, and let the trailer play.
Images of a Hollywood-hot man and woman filled the screen, quickly making it clear that this was a friends-to-lovers story about two people who’d been avoiding their feelings and were forced to acknowledge it when she got a job offer across the country.
It looked cute, but my chest tightened just watching the trailer. Too real for me.
I closed my eyes and took a long sip of wine, thinking about how Jace had thrown out a job offer the minute I’d told him I was looking.
Since the day I’d met him he’d done everything he could to make my life easier.
If I needed an ear to vent to or a babysitter for a night out with one of my childless friends—who always seemed to be doing way cooler shit than me—or a night of pizza and wine with him, he was always there.
And not once had he ever made a single move to ask me out romantically.
Sometimes I thought I caught him looking at me like he was interested in more, but then he’d blink away his attraction and I’d let out a breath, once again the single mom friend in his life who probably had way too much baggage for him to want to deal with.
He was a millionaire with a job he loved and an endless rotation of meaningless flings.
No way was he interested in starting a relationship with a woman and her child.
But still, it was kind of cruel that he’d spent four years making me slowly fall in love with him only to leave me hanging.
Not that he had any idea I felt that way.
Somedays I wanted to scream at him, “I want a date, you stupid idiot. I want you to want me one night, not the nameless people who traipse in and out of your life.” Other days I just wanted to shake up our dynamic with an emotion-filled touch.
We touched each other all the time, so how hard would it be to turn friendly touches into romantic ones?
I set the wine down and quickly bypassed the rom-com in favor of a comedy about two men who adopted three kids and a dog and got more than they bargained for.
That sounded like something I could relate to in a way that wouldn’t make me want to finish this bottle of wine alone on my couch.
I queued it up, dug into the popcorn, and got as comfortable as possible under the throw blanket.
I was forty-five minutes into the movie, relating to many of the fictional parents’ struggles with their toddler and their newborn and horrified at the pre-teen antics that I probably had coming in my future, when my phone dinged with a text.
Maybe Jace changed his mind and wants to watch a movie with me instead of hooking up with a stranger tonight.
I looked down at my phone and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach when I realized it was Mom and not Jace. What was I thinking? He’s never called to come over after going to a bar. I’m not the one he wants warming his bed at night. It’s probably the mom energy. Or mom boobs.
I looked down at my breasts, perky cleavage sticking out of my white tank top.
Eh, they’re better than I give them credit for.
My chest was one part of me I’d seen Jace’s eyes linger on when he thought I wasn’t watching.
Even if he wouldn’t ask me out, I didn’t think he was unattracted to me.
He just wasn’t interested in acting on that attraction, apparently.
I paused the movie and picked up my phone to read the text from my mom.
Mom: Livvy, the girls from work have asked if they can throw my bridal shower. Apparently, they have a fun idea that they want to surprise me with. Will you be terribly upset if I let them plan it?
You mean, I don’t have to plan pre-wedding activities for my mother on top of being a single, working mom? I think I’ll survive.
Me: Mom, I am happy to do whatever maid of honor duties you want me to do, but you know how little time I have. If you want a bridal shower thrown by your friends, let them do it. It’ll be good for all of us.
Mom: I know, honey, I just don’t want you to be upset.
Me: I’m not upset at all.
Mom: One more thing. They want to make it a Jack and Jill shower.
Of course they do. Because everyone in the world is coupled off, and this way my uncle and his husband can also attend.
Me: Sounds good.
Mom: Maybe you should bring a date.
Me: We’ll see.
Mom: Livvy, you need to get back out there. You won’t meet anyone if you stay home every Friday. I’ll watch Kaylee anytime. Carl and I love having her stay.
I sighed and tipped my head back, swallowing the rest of my wine and tossing in a fistful of popcorn. Mom meant well, but ever since she and Carl had started dating last year, she’d been on my case about dating.
Our relationship was open and supportive but we’d never talked about my dating life before Carl came along.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have one, it was that I’d seen her give up hers for years to raise me and I’d never wanted to flaunt my early twenties in her face.
Then Kaylee came along and there was nothing to discuss because she was my sole focus.
Now Mom had found happiness, and she was apparently determined to make sure I didn’t stay a single, unattached mom until my late forties like she had.
I appreciated it, but I didn’t think she realized that it added pressure that I didn’t need.
Maybe it was the wine, but I fired off a response without overthinking it.
Me: I have Jace. He’ll come with me.
Mom: Are you two finally acknowledging the spark between you?
I rolled my eyes. The only spark between us was the one I felt every time he fucking smiled.
The one that burned me up from the inside because I’d been too chickenshit four years ago when he offered to help me build a crib to say that what I’d really needed from him was a night of good sex to give my vibrator a night off.
Dealing with my pregnancy hormones alone had resulted in burning through a vibrator by the twenty-week mark—something I hadn’t even known was possible—and the sexy guy who lived above the bar where I worked had stared in several of my late-night fantasies.
Though Kaylee’s father made some appearances too.
When I’d first met Jace, my heart had fluttered at the little smirk he had while he talked to me.
He was flirty and nice and always made me feel like I was the only person in the room—at least, the only person in the room he cared about.
For the first few weeks on the job I thought for sure he’d ask me out, but he hadn’t, and by that time I’d realized I was pregnant and my thoughts of dating the attractive businessman who ate dinner across from me most nights drifted away amid all the fear and anxiety of having a child on my own.
It was a conversation about Jace’s adoption that had convinced me to keep Kaylee rather than give her up for adoption, which was something I’d thought might be for the best at first. When I heard him talk about how traumatic growing up with his birth parents was and how loving and warm his adoptive moms were, I knew I’d be more like his moms and my decision had been solidified.
He’d given me the confidence to raise Kaylee on my own without even meaning to.
By then, I felt constantly bloated and nauseous so the idea of starting something with Jace hadn’t even seemed like a remote possibility anymore.
From that moment forward, he was supportive and available, constantly reaching out to help me when I needed it the most. I was in no position to turn down his help building a crib.
When he’d offered to come over and paint the spare room in my apartment to help me avoid the fumes, I’d said yes.
Because I needed that too. I hated asking Jace for anything, but one of his best qualities was that he always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
He read my every need and desire correctly except, of course, my soul-crushing, secret desire for him.
He seemed completely oblivious to that one.
I looked at the phone, trying to decide what to tell my mom.
If I told her the truth, she’d push me to date again, and I was so tired of being told to date random men when the one I wanted was right in front of me most days.
But of course, to tell her yes would be a lie.
I’d done nothing to acknowledge this supposed spark she claimed to see, and neither had he.
The background image on my phone was a picture of Jace, Kaylee, and me at the Boston Aquarium a few months ago when he’d snapped a selfie of us in front of the huge, multilevel fish tank.
I wasn’t sure he knew the photo was my background.
Even if we were just friends, in my heart he was ours—mine and Kaylee’s.
One way or another, when he was in the picture, it felt like looking at a picture of our family.
I typed a response to my mom, fueled by wishful thinking.
Maybe this would give me a kick in the pants to tell him I wanted to see if what we had between us was more than a friendship.
I couldn’t think of any other friend in my life who I missed late at night when I was falling asleep.
Me: It’s still new, Mom. But I’ll bring him.
Mom: Yay! Oh, won’t this be wonderful? Both of us finally getting men we deserve?
Me: Yeah. Finally.
I put down the phone, the wine sloshing in my stomach as I thought about what I was going to say to Jace.
If I asked him to attend the shower with me, he’d say yes, so that wasn’t really a concern.
It was the part where I’d implied to Mom that we were maybe, finally, more than friends that was going to be impossible to explain without telling him that was what I wanted.
I leaned forward, grabbed the wine bottle, and poured myself another glass before setting it down and restarting the movie.
Maybe it would be fine, maybe Jace had gone home alone tonight and when I called him to tell him that I would accept his job offer—because I was probably, definitely, going to do that—and needed him to be my date for a day, he’d laugh, and say, “Finally, Liv.”
It was a hell of a lot of wishful thinking. Good thing I didn’t watch the friends-to-lovers rom-com or I’d be digging myself an even bigger hole tonight.