12. Rule #12 Avoid having drinks with your best friend after fantasizing about his daughter.
Matis
“There you are.”
The sound of Amelia’s sweet voice behind me on the street sends a thrill down my spine.
I haven’t seen her since she showed up at my apartment three days ago, and I can’t say I’ve been feeling much better about myself since our little text conversation last night regarding her newfound discovery. Suddenly, it’s all I can think about.
Mais oui, I have been avoiding the club all week.
Only Amelia would track me down on the street in front of my apartment. I turn around to find her chasing toward me in a pair of black leggings and a crop top leaving her waist bare.
“Oh, hey, Trouble,” I greet her casually with a smile although deep down, I’m torn on her presence. On one hand I could never be disappointed with her around, but on the other…things have changed.
She hops up by my side and continues walking next to me on my way to the market. Certainly in a bubbly mood today, which makes me smile. Like a bouncy puppy.
Practically leaping in front of me, she declares with a beaming smile, “Monsieur Moreau, today is your lucky day.”
I chuckle. “And why’s that, Trouble?”
“Because you have a date tonight.”
I come to a halt. “A date?”
Mon Dieu, please don’t say the date is with her. My constitution is only so strong.
“A double date! Her name is Olivia. She’s thirty-one, and she’s American, here for the summer.”
I put up my hands, pulling Amelia to the side of the avenue so we’re no longer blocking foot traffic. “Amelia, slow down. What are you talking about?”
She starts fidgeting, chewing on the corner of her cheek as she averts her gaze. “So that guy who texted me the other day wants to take me out for drinks tonight, but he’s traveling with his sister, and he can’t leave her alone. So she needs a date.”
My brows pinch as I stare at her. “So you want to take me?”
“It’s perfect! We’re both looking to date, and now we’ve found siblings who both want to have drinks tonight.”
She’s greatly overselling this. I wouldn’t call it perfect.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? What makes you think I don’t have plans tonight?” I ask with a tilt to my head.
Amelia only laughs. “You’re funny, old man.”
“I don’t know, Amelia…”
She clings to my arm, and the moment I feel her soft fingers on my skin, goose bumps erupt all the way down. This poor girl has no clue the effect she has on me.
“Listen, here’s the plan. You can meet this guy, Jacob, and give me real input on what you think about him. Then I can give you pointers on your date with Olivia. It’s exactly what we need.”
With suspicion, I glare at her. “I need pointers?”
“You’re rusty. Come on, please. This is the only way I can see Jacob tonight. Please.”
She’s hanging from my arm, begging with a pouty face that’s making my insides liquefy into a useless puddle.
“You really want to see him again?” I ask. A touch of disappointment courses down my spine.
Looking a little forced, she shrugs. “I do.”
I heave a long sigh and run my hand over my chin, rough from missing today’s shave. “Fine, Trouble.”
With a squeal, Amelia claps her hands. Then she throws her arms around my waist, hugging me close. Shamelessly, I rest my chin on her head and hug her back.
“You’re the best, Matis.”
I have to force myself to swallow because I don’t feel like the best. Right now, with her warm body in my arms and forbidden thoughts traipsing through my mind, I feel like the worst.
Most nights, I prefer wine, but when necessary, I call on the more potent drinks to do the heavy lifting. And tonight is one of those nights. Standing in my kitchen with a glass of Macallan 34 in my hand, I do my best to calm the erratic buzzing deep within my bones.
Then, out of nowhere, my front door chimes.
Once again, I wasn’t expecting company, and I told Amelia I would be picking her up in an hour, so this sudden guest is a surprise.
Especially when I peer into the security screen and see my friend Ronan Kade standing by the front door.
“Merde,” I whisper to myself. Buzzing him in, I stand near my door and wait for him to ride the elevator up to my floor.
It’s not that I’ve been avoiding Ronan specifically—more so that I’ve been avoiding everyone, including him. But I also haven’t stood face-to-face with him since pleasuring myself to visions of his daughter. So I’m not quite sure how this interaction is going to feel.
When he steps off the elevator, he gives me a warm smile and a wave.
“I hope you don’t mind me just stopping by,” he says.
“You know I don’t. Come in.”
Stepping aside, I let Ronan into my apartment before leading him toward the bottle of whiskey on my counter.
“You must have heard me cracking this open,” I say as I pour him a glass.
“I have a sense about these things.”
We both chuckle, clinking our glasses together and taking a sip.
My eyes hover on his face, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find I don’t feel much different around him now.
Granted, I’ve felt generally low about the recent fantasies playing in my mind, but being around Ronan doesn’t make me feel any worse.
“You’ve been a stranger lately,” he says as he takes a seat on one of the stools across from me. “I just wanted to make sure everything is okay.”
Leaning back against the counter, I let out a sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”
He nods. “Of course.”
When I open my mouth to spill my guts to my best friend, naturally it’s not about lascivious thoughts or forbidden desires. It’s about something that has been weighing on me for a while. Something I never felt ready to say out loud until now.
“I sometimes regret giving it up.”
Slowly, he nods. Because if I know anything about Ronan, I know he understands the torment of retiring.
“I was afraid of that,” he mumbles.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m happy for the younger generation who own it now, but retirement is meant for those who want to live a life beyond their careers, and that was never me.”
“I know.”
“That club was my life, Ronan.” It feels as if a weight is lifted the moment those words leave my lips. How long have I been harboring this secret? Why was I so ashamed to admit my mistake of letting it go too early?
“I’m sorry,” he says with sincerity, looking into my eyes like a true friend.
“It’s not your fault,” I say with a huff. “Hell, the whole plan to retire and pass it down to them was my idea. I just never imagined I’d be this…”
“Unfulfilled,” he says, finishing my sentence for me.
“Yes.”
He takes another sip with a contemplative expression. “How are the dating apps going?”
I let out a groan, to which he laughs.
“That good, huh?”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” I reply, finishing my glass.
“That’s not true,” he argues. “Look at me. I was older than you are now when I started working at L’Amour. I was older than you when I found Daisy and started a new family. I don’t think it’s ever too late.”
I take his words of wisdom into consideration. I still remember the day Ronan decided to move to Paris full-time to take up a more permanent position at the club. It felt like a new start to my life as well. He wasn’t just my mentor; he became my best friend.
But I find his words hard to believe. Starting over at this age? A new career? A new family? These are things young men dream about, not men well past their prime. Men my age are becoming grandfathers, not fathers.
Rules were made to be broken, though, right?
Ronan finishes his drink before placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t give up on the apps yet. You’ve got Amelia to help you, and if I know my daughter, she won’t give up that easily.”
Just hearing the word daughter out of his mouth makes me cringe. And the issue isn’t Amelia giving up; it’s me. But I hope he’s right. I hope Amelia finds the right person for me and gets exactly what she wants.