“Why not? It can’t be any worse than regular dating, believe me.”
Tamia shrugs. I stare at the road, avoiding the rearview mirror. It’s hard not to let my gaze drift to the way her breasts shift when she shrugs, reminding me of how they turned a rosy color for me last night, of how they tasted, as her delicious nipples hardened in my mouth.
“It just feels weird. Maybe I’m old-fashioned.”
“Are you waiting for your Prince Charming to just come galloping along, then?”
“I’m not looking for anybody,” Tamia says.
“What, are you going to be alone forever?” Alexis pauses. “I’m sorry. I know I’m asking about a zillion questions. It’s like I don’t know what to do with all this new energy. Just let me know if I’m being annoying and I’ll…”
She mimes zipping her mouth shut, locking it, and throwing away the key.
“No, I don’t mind,” Tamia says. “And I don’t know about being with somebody. What if I found somebody but it didn’t work out?”
Careful, I almost whisper, as an image slams into me.
I see Alexis, her eyes red from crying, staring at me with hate and pain.
“Well, there’s always a chance it might not work out,” Alexis says somberly.
“But what if… what if I find somebody and, by being together, it hurts someone else?”
Alexis pauses. “Wait a sec, have you found someone?”
“Maybe. No.”
“You said maybe.” Alexis’s tone lights, becoming even more excited. “I heard it. Didn’t you, Dad?”
I pretend not to have heard Alexis, staring straight ahead, sweat beading at my temples. I can practically hear a ticking sound like a bomb ready to go off at the smallest provocation.
“You definitely said maybe,” Alexis goes on.
Tamia laughs. To me, it sounds forced. But Alexis is in one of her animated moods, a mood I can’t ever resent, not after wishing she had more energy for so long.
It’s the sort of mood she might never feel again if we tell her the truth.
Or is that being dramatic? Maybe she’s stronger than I give her credit for.
Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to be with the woman of my dreams.
“So,” Alexis says, “what shall we do tonight? Watch a movie?”
“Sure,” Tamia says. “Sounds good to me.”
And I’ll be upstairs, thinking about Tamia with her thick legs tucked beneath her, fighting the urge to march down there and leap on her like a crazed beast.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, wondering how we’re going to solve this without breaking my daughter’s healthy new heart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tamia
“Are you sure you won’t tell me about the mystery man?”
Ever since I made that comment in the car – the maybe – I’ve been wishing I hadn’t. Alexis and I spent a nice evening together, watching a movie, and now she’s hovering outside my bedroom door.
No, not mine. The door to her guest bedroom.
I can’t forget about my apartment, my real life.
And yet…
If Triston wants to be together as fiercely as I do, surely that means he wants to live together too.
What does that mean, the three of us living here, but me and Triston sharing a room?
That seems like the most awkward setup ever.
“Tam?”
I try to smile but it feels fake, my cheeks straining from all the forced happiness. But it’s not like I can just tell her the truth, not without Triston’s permission.
Excuses eat away at you, Lisa whispers in my mind, in her wise voice, always wise even when we were kids. Just be honest with her.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I say quietly.
She nods. “That’s fair. But you did just sort of admit there is somebody.”
I laugh, raising my hands. “I may have to plead the fifth here, Alexis.”
“Message received. I’ll stop harassing you about it… for now. Night.”
“Goodnight.”
She walks down the hallway and I close the door, leaning against it, letting out a sigh as my head falls back.
I close my eyes, two possible futures opening up before me.
In the first, Alexis is smiling, telling me she can’t believe I was ever worried. “I want you and my dad to be together. I can see how happy you make each other. I can see how important this is to you.”
In the second, Alexis’s face is red, her eyes bloodshot. I can see her screaming and waving her hands as she cries. “I invited you into my house. I supported you. I thought we were friends.”
In this waking nightmare, she lashes out, striking me in the chest. Her words hurt more than any physical blow ever could.
I open my eyes, certain I can feel the reverberation, the pain.
Would she even be in the wrong?
It’s one the lowest things a person can do, sleeping with their friend’s dad. Even a brother would be better. Is that the position I’m in, wishing that Triston was her brother instead?
Walking across the room, I drop onto the bed and lie back, staring at the ceiling wondering how I got here.