7. River #3
“Stop thinking with your dick, River,” Rowan adds. “I know she was young and hot, but how many young hot girls throw themselves at you every weekend? You don’t need the drama of sneaking around with someone. Frankly, you’re too old for it.”
“Says the man older than me that was sneaking around his house for months with his far-too-young-for-him nanny,” I reply snidely. “I do recall being far more supportive about those choices, by the way.”
“Okay, that was different.” I hear spoken through the screen door before Ellie emerges, sliding the screen behind her and sitting in one of the chairs on the patio with what I’m guessing is a margarita.
“I think he just meant you probably want to be free to have sleepovers and stay out past… I don’t know, SJ’s bedtime with a girl you’re seeing, and it seems as if that may not be a possibility with Sloane. ”
I lean back in my chair, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes before letting out an irritated groan. “Believe me, I know.” I sigh before dropping my hands and giving her a defeated look. “Give me Lucy’s number?”
I’m doing the right thing, I think as I sit across the table at the sushi restaurant with Ellie’s friend Lucy.
Lucy is twenty-seven and is established, both in her career and in life. She’s stable and not in the stage that involves doing body shots on a random Wednesday.
I mean, I’m not opposed to that.
But she’s smart. She’s beautiful. She’s settled. She’s driven and focused and wants the same things I do.
She doesn’t have kids, but she wants them.
She can carry a conversation, and she’s extremely polite.
She’s perfect on paper.
And yet, I am fucking bored.
By no fault of her own, but I feel myself so checked out of this date even as I nod my head and listen to her talk about her yoga classes.
Evidently, she doesn’t just attend but also teaches classes. Which, yes, is really fucking hot, and usually the thought of how flexible she probably is could hold my attention alone.
I’ve always been a good listener, but I can’t seem to stay in the moment on this date, which is the next day after my date with Sloane. I haven’t talked to her since last night when she texted me to say that she was home, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her.
Stop thinking with your dick, I think, hearing my brother’s voice in my head. Is that all this was? I couldn’t stop thinking about her because I hadn’t slept with her?
Was I really that predictable?
Yes, my mind thinks.
“Are you okay?” My mind stops running long enough to realize Lucy had asked me a question, and I clear my throat before taking a sip of the sake.
Her green eyes blink at me with a hint of annoyance over being caught not paying attention.
I reach out to rub her hand gently, hoping it will ease her irritation, which seems to work because her face softens and a smile pulls at her lips, which were also painted red just like Sloane’s were last night, but somehow, it doesn’t hit the same.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to space out for a second. Go on, please,” I urge her, and she nods once before tucking an auburn strand behind her ear, revealing a small diamond stud.
“No, no, tell me more about you. Do you like being a teacher and the school’s football coach?
” she asks just as I feel a vibration in my pocket.
Normally, I wouldn’t check my phone while I’m out, but Rowan and Ellie also went out for their weekly date night, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t an emergency with Margot, SJ, or Isla.
Margot is seventeen now and has everything under control—honestly, she did when she was far younger—but I never wanted to miss a call or text from them.
“One second, just want to make sure it’s not important,” I say before I pull my phone out of my pocket.
When I see Sloane’s name across the screen, I don’t outwardly react, and I try to ignore the fact that my dick slightly jumps in response before I silence it without opening it and slip it back into my pocket.
“Everything okay?” she asks before sliding a piece of sushi into her mouth.
“Yes,” I tell her before I begin answering her question about being a teacher and football coach.
I don’t know how much time has passed. It could have been five minutes, or it could have been an hour, but I swear my phone is burning a hole in my pocket.
What did she say?
I know I shouldn’t care what Sloane texted. I mean, I care, but I don’t in the sense that it doesn’t matter.
She’s too young. End of story.
But it doesn’t stop me from excusing myself from the table at a point where I could no longer take it and go to the bathroom.
I open the text, realizing it’s only been fifteen fucking minutes since she texted.
I roll my eyes at my impatience and that I couldn’t have waited until the end of the date with Lucy before opening it.
Sloane:
So you’re not talking to me now?
Me:
What do you mean?
I answer immediately without really thinking it through.
She was pretty fucking clear what she meant, River.
Sloane:
Which part of my text is tripping you up?
Me:
Okay smart-ass, I just meant I’m not not talking to you.
Sloane:
Lol glad you aren’t teaching English
I snort before replying with the middle finger emoji.
Me:
I just don’t know that I should be getting involved with someone where my age may be a problem.
Sloane:
Bold of you to assume I told my family about you for there to even be questions about your age. But even if I had, it wouldn’t be a problem. I’m an adult, River.
I don’t respond because I’ve been in the bathroom long enough, and the last thing I want to do is keep this back-and-forth with Sloane while I’m on a date with another woman.
Even if I’d rather be on a date with Sloane.
I return to the table to see Lucy on her phone, and when she sees me, she tucks it into her purse and gives me what seems like a fake smile.
“Hey, so, I’m sorry, but something came up, and I have to go,” she says before giving my hand a squeeze across the table.
“I’m sorry to cut this short. I asked the server for my check—”
“No, do not worry about that, please,” I tell her as she gets up from the table with her purse. I stand as well and give her my best apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I seemed distracted, that wasn’t about you—”
“I know.” She smiles. “And I hope you talk to whoever it was about soon.” She reaches up to rub my shoulder once before she leaves the table.
What is wrong with me?
Now I can’t even date like a normal person? Even if I was into Sloane, can’t I handle a date with another woman now?
I run a hand through my hair before sitting back down at the empty table and downing the rest of my drink.
Fuuuuck, Ellie is going to hate me for this.