6. River
RIVER
“So it looks like I am holding off on setting you up because it seems like you’ve already got a date with a girl you really like if these cute little texts are any indication,” Ellie says while we sit on their back patio, and she scrolls through the text conversation with Sloane.
As promised, I came over the next day to hang out with Isla and SJ after they got out of their respective summer camps.
Isla is upstairs briefly, probably changing into a swimsuit to get in their pool, so I take it as a moment to talk to Ellie about Sloane and whoever she’s trying to set me up with.
Her brown eyes flit to mine, full of curiosity, once she gets to the selfies that Sloane had sent just an hour ago.
“And she’s definitely cute. But are we going to talk about the elephant in the room? ”
“Which is?” I ask, knowing what she’s going to say.
“Rowan told me how old she is.” She blinks her eyes at me a few times. “I thought you were starting to think about settling down. Is she interested in something serious?”
“Okay, so first of all, it’s just dinner. We haven’t discussed any of that. Just because we’re going out doesn’t mean I can’t also go out with any one of your friends… for the record. Am I not allowed to eat?”
She eyes me warily before putting her hands under her chin like she’s studying me. “So you can see yourself getting serious with this girl?”
“What?”
“I’m just saying if you don’t think she’s someone you could settle down with, then this kind of seems like a waste of time.”
“Ellie…” I start, already knowing what’s coming.
“You said you didn’t want to keep doing this anymore, remember? No more one-night stands and random hook-ups? No more going out with women you can’t actually see a future with?” I slide my sunglasses back over my eyes and lean back in the chair because I do remember this conversation. Barely.
I’d come over for dinner and played a way too competitive game of Monopoly with Rowan, Ellie, SJ, and Margot that lasted well past midnight, which led to me staying over and a liquor-fueled heart-to-heart with my brother and future sister-in-law.
“I know that, but… I haven’t met anyone, and I can have fun until I do.” I lean forward on the table. “I’m open to your candidates.”
She rolls her eyes and is about to respond when Isla comes skipping outside, dressed in a pink bathing suit, pink heart-shaped sunglasses, and goggles hanging from around her neck.
“Uncle River, can you get in with me?”
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, but I’ll sit here with you.”
“Will you toss me in!?” she asks while bouncing back and forth between her feet. She was turning into a little fish just like her brother and was already practicing her backflips off the side, much to Ellie’s distress.
“Uhhhh…” Ellie protests.
“Ellie, he does it all the tiiiiime.” She tilts her head to the side and juts her hip out, and I want to chuckle at the sass that is apparently the cause of a few new gray hairs on my brother.
I glare at Isla because, while she’s correct, I try to refrain from doing that while Ellie is around.
Kind of like getting donuts or ice cream after school and letting her and SJ stay up far too late when I’m babysitting.
And maybe the horror movie I let her watch last weekend, but she handled that like a champ and hasn’t ratted me out for that, yet.
“Not too hard and over there.” She points toward the deeper side of the pool labeled six feet.
“Yesssss,” she cheers before taking off toward that side.
“Don’t run!” Ellie calls after her before giving me a stern look.
“Be careful with her. She’s stressing me out with these newfound feelings of fearlessness surrounding the pool.
I’m glad the swim team has made her so confident, and she’s enjoying it, but I want her to remember that it’s still dangerous. ”
“She’ll be okay. She can swim, and we are both right here.”
“I’m not worried about when I’m here. I’m worried about when I’m not.” Her eyes move to where I know Isla is before turning back to me.
“Uncle Riiiiiver!!!” Isla calls from the other end of the pool. She’s now on the diving board, bouncing up and down on it, but not jumping in.
“Okay, off from there,” I tell her as I jog toward her, waving her toward me, and then she’s standing next to me on the side of the pool. I kneel so that we’re at eye level.
“Hey, what’s with ratting me out?”
Her light brown eyes widen, and she shakes her head back and forth. “I didn’t!”
I raise an eyebrow at her, and she does her best to mimic me, but it comes off like she’s scowling at me.
I almost chuckle at her attempt, but I want her to take the next thing I say seriously.
“No letting anyone else throw you in, alright? Except your dad.” I know Ellie is a little overprotective when it comes to pool safety, but a voice deep down is happy that she is.
With Rowan’s job, there was a time when he wasn’t around as much, so I’m glad they’ve seen the opposite end of parenting in the form of Ellie’s constant hovering and, at times, “helicopter nannying,” which is what SJ calls it.
“Daddy never comes in the pool!” She’s removed her sunglasses and pulled her goggles up over her eyes, pink ones that also match her swimsuit, and a sneaking suspicion tells me she’s got different colors to match different swimsuits, just like she’s known to do with her sunglasses and outfits.
“Okay, well, don’t let SJ throw you either,” I tell her.
“I won’t!” she says with a clap before pointing toward the water.
I can see she’s already thrown in some toys and a unicorn-shaped raft, and I know that will entertain her for a few hours at least. I give her a countdown from three before I toss her in, and when she resurfaces and begins swimming toward the shallow end, I walk back toward Ellie while still keeping an eye on her.
I sit back down next to Ellie, and she hands me her phone.
“Okay, that’s Erin and Lucy,” she says, pointing at a picture of the three of them at dinner.
Erin has brown curly hair that falls around her in spiral coils, brown eyes, and Lucy has reddish brown hair chopped at her shoulders and striking green eyes; both have similar builds and tits that I can definitely appreciate.
I zoom in on the picture and would absolutely call both of them gorgeous and could see myself going out with either or both.
“How have I not met these girls yet?” I ask because while Rowan and Ellie don’t throw frequent parties, they did have an engagement party about five months ago, and Ellie’s birthday was last month.
“You have met Lucy. Erin couldn’t make my birthday party, and they’re relatively new friends from the gym so I didn’t know them when we had our engagement party.
Lucy thinks you’re hot, and they are both a little older.
I think Erin is actually thirty-one. Lucy is closer to my age; I think maybe twenty-seven?
” She looks up like she’s trying to recall before turning to me.
“Both of them are looking to settle down and—”
“Did you tell them I was?” I ask her with wide eyes, ready to fucking fire her over being my self-appointed wingman or whatever she thinks she’s doing if she’s going to be telling women I want to settle down.
I can already see the hearts in their eyes and the baby fever written all over them if that’s the case.
“No, of course not! Relax. Lucy actually asked about you, and I haven’t mentioned you to Erin, but if you’re interested, I would.”
A feeling of relief that she might actually be chill about this whole thing washes over me.
I look at the picture again. I did say I wanted to get more serious about dating, and I can’t be seriously considering a relationship with a girl who’s about to start her freshman year of college.
She can’t possibly be considering it either.
She’s going into four years of partying with guys in fraternities and going out three to four nights a week.
I don’t want to stand in her way of fun. Especially with being an hour away.
“Okay… yeah. Can you give me Lucy’s number?
” I didn’t owe Sloane anything. We’d had one weed-induced conversation and had engaged in some light flirting.
There wasn’t anything wrong with me going out with someone else that I could potentially see a future with.
Sure, Sloane was gorgeous and undeniably my type out of all three, but what future did we actually have right now?
Did I even want to get serious with someone who still had so much life to live before she ideally would want to settle down?
“Are you going to call off the date with Sloane?”
I give her a blank expression. “No?”
She puts a hand over her eyes briefly and sighs. “Oh my God, River.”
“What?” I know she can’t possibly think I’ve never dated multiple women at once.
“I’ll hold off on talking to Lucy until after your date.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather you not be taking my friends out under the guise of serious dating while you’re messing around with another woman.
” I go to interject when she puts a hand up.
“And while I know you may not want to get serious with Sloane necessarily, I know you, River Kincaid, and if she’s willing, you’re going to get in her pants. ”
God willing.
“Maybe not.” I lie because I may have thought about it. I may even have planned to have my housekeeper come tomorrow, instead of her usual Friday, to give my house a thorough clean in case we wind up back at my house.
“You’re a terrible liar. Keep us posted on how Thursday goes, and then we can go about setting you up with Lucy.”
Sloane:
Not a steak, but figured you’d appreciate my current view.
The text alert makes me stop my treadmill run in my basement, and a smile pulls at my lips instantly. In her picture, there was a coffee table with a plate of a hamburger in front of a television, where it appears she’s watching The Godfather.
Me:
You are correct, and that burger looks amazing.
Sloane:
Will try a bite and let you know. How was your day?
Me:
Good, a little long. I just finished working out.
Sloane:
At the gym?
Me:
No, I have a setup at home.
Sloane:
Send me a pic!
Me:
Of my setup?
Sloane:
No. obviously. Of you!
Me:
I’m not sending you a sweaty shirtless selfie
Sloane:
HOT, why not?
I wasn’t one to take selfies at all, but the thought of her wanting one made it intriguing. I get off the treadmill and move toward the bathroom down here. I don’t think too much of it. I just snap a photo and text it, instantly regretting it the second I hit send.
I briefly glance at it and try not to analyze how she’d see it.
Should I have used better lighting?
Or put a shirt on?
Does being shirtless make it douchey?
No, she asked, it wasn’t unsolicited.
Sloane:
I knew it. My God, is that an eight-pack? And all your tattoos? I hate how hot you are.
I’m not unfamiliar with female attention, but something about it from Sloane does something to my entire body.
Me:
Do I get a picture back?
Sloane:
A shirtless one? Why, sir!
Me:
No, of course not.
Sloane:
lol besides, I sent one first!
Me:
Maybe I want another one.
Sloane:
I’ll consider it after my burger.
Me:
I’m kidding, you don’t have to.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower when my phone beeps with another message, and I see she’s sent a picture of her lying on a couch under a blanket.
Her face isn’t completely free from makeup, her lips glossy and her lashes long against her bright blue eyes.
Her hair is kind of wild around her, maybe from her run or the normal Maryland humidity got to it, but she looks sexy as hell.
The blanket is up over her breasts like where a woman wraps a towel around herself, but I can see tiny pink straps peeking out of the top.
She’s smiling, showing all her teeth, and with how perfect they are, I imagine she always shows them in pictures.
Me:
You are so gorgeous. College boys are going to be all over you.
Sloane:
And what if I’m not interested in college boys?
Me:
You might be when you get there
Sloane:
I don’t know, I might be kind of interested in this guy who’s a few years out of college.
Well, that’s different.
I wasn’t used to women openly admitting their thoughts so directly. Sure, they flirted and made coy jokes that implied they were interested, but I rarely meet women who share their feelings so freely. Especially while sober.
Me:
Ha. Just a few
Sloane:
Your age doesn’t bother me.
Me:
I see that, but you do realize I’m nearly twenty years older.
Sloane:
Yes, I know. I’m not THAT bad at math. (Not great at history, though)
Me:
haha. Don’t worry, there won’t be a quiz on our date. But in all seriousness, no one in your life will be concerned about how old I am? I mean… I’m technically old enough to be your father.
She doesn’t respond right away, but I see her typing a few times before the bubbles disappear, and I wonder if that comment was too far.
Maybe comparing myself to her father’s age has her seeing how difficult this could be if this ever became anything.
I make my way into the kitchen, wondering what I should have for dinner, causing me to briefly consider texting Ellie to see what she’s making.
I’m opening a beer when another text from Sloane pops up, almost making me drop my phone.
Sloane:
Should I call you Daddy, then?
I try to ignore the way my dick responds to the words on the screen, practically screaming at me to get us into a situation to hear that word fall from her lips.
I’m no stranger to a woman calling me that in bed, and I’ll admit it brings out a different side of me. More feral, possessive, aggressive.
But past one meeting and a few conversations, I barely know Sloane, and for some reason, something stops me from opening a door like that with her for the first time via text.
Well, technically, she already opened the door.
Me:
You have some of your gummies tonight?
I ask, wondering if something gave her the courage to say something so bold to an almost complete stranger.
Sloane:
Nope, why?
Me:
You’re just very direct
Sloane:
Would you rather I talk in mixed messages? I thought men hated that
I’m thinking about how I should respond when she follows up.
Sloane:
For the record, I also hate that.
Me:
No, I find your directness refreshing. Don’t change that.