Page 28 of The Single Dad

“Oops,” she says, breathless. “Wow, that’s harder than it looks.”

“You fell over,” Archie says between giggles.

“I sure did. You think you can do any better?” Riley teases, pushing herself upright.

I clear my throat to get both of their attention, making sure to position myself behind the couch, where Riley won’t see the evidence of what she’s done to me. “I’m going to work in my office for the rest of the evening,” I say. “Good night, Archie.”

I beckon Archie over to the couch, and he climbs up on the cushions for a kiss. I nod curtly to Riley, almost unable to look at her. That will only make things worse.

I barricade myself in my office, cursing myself silently. Settling in at the desk, I try to will my half-hard cock to calm the fuck down, but images of Riley keep flashing into my head. She’s everywhere. It’s almost impossible to avoid her.

And I definitely can’t get any work done like this.

Just this once, I tell myself, shame burning through me at my inability to control myself. I just need to get it out of my system. Then I can focus on work.

I get up from the desk and head out into the hallway, toward my bedroom two doors down.

* * *

Riley

Archie and I play Twister for another fifteen minutes or so, long enough for me to almost pull at least five muscles. I forgot what it was like to play Twister; maybe I should’ve stretched beforehand, or something.

Archie, of course, has the carefree elasticity of a little kid. I don’t think he could hurt himself playing this game if he tried. He beats me handily, laughing his head off the entire time.

Eventually, after another humiliating defeat that twists my body into a pretzel, I hold up a hand and say, “Uh oh, check it out—it’s getting real dark outside.”

Archie pauses in his laughter and glances toward the large windows, at the quiet street outside. Night has fallen, and the streetlamp on the sidewalk immediately outside of the Sullivan household has turned on.

“Aw,” Archie says, sounding disappointed.

“Time for bed, kiddo. Come on, you don’t want to be tired tomorrow, do you?”

Reluctantly, Archie helps me fold up the Twister mat and pack away the cardboard spinners into the box. I place it on the shelf of board games in Archie’s playroom, then usher him upstairs to bed.

It’s probably for the best. I don’t think I would survive yet another game of Twister.

I help Archie brush his teeth, then wait as he gets into pajamas and climbs into bed.

I tuck him in and, upon request, improvise another chapter in the now-ongoing saga of The Adventures of Archie’s Dinosaur. Archie props up the title character on the pillow next to him, like the little dinosaur wants to hear the story himself.

Finally, as I conclude the bedtime story, I pat the bedsheets and stand up to turn out the light.

“Wait,” Archie says, stopping me.

I glance over at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

He doesn’t look tired like he normally does at this time of night. “I need one of my stuffies,” he says. “Trevor.”

I’ve seen Trevor, a button-eyed plush lion with a fluffy cotton mane. “Okay,” I say indulgently. “Do you remember where you last left him? I’ll go grab him for you, and then you can all get some sleep.”

“I brought it into my daddy’s room,” he says. “We were doing hide-and-seek, and me and Dino never found him because he was too good at it.”

I stifle my chuckle, nodding seriously. “Gotcha. I’ll go look there, then. You get settled in, and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes with Trevor, ‘kay?”

Archie nods, hunching down under his covers. I start toward Mr. Sullivan’s bedroom in search of the toy.

I assume that Mr. Sullivan is in his office, working; the door is closed, but I can see light seeping from underneath it. The door to his bedroom is open just a crack. I push it open and step inside.

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