Page 42 of Mayhem

“Don’t you think they make a cute couple?” She asks the server, a young woman in her early twenties with a long ponytail and a nose ring. Her nametag reads, ‘Lauren.’ And, until this question, she’s been entirely disinterested in us.

She looks us both over, probably noticing that Tess is dying to crawl under the table and hide right now.

“You don’t have to feed the monster,” I say, giving Lauren an out from Charlie’s antics. Nobody likes being put on the spot like this. Especially strangers. I need to run interference at times with Charlie when she gets this way, but the server apparently doesn’t mind playing along.

“No, you guys are cute together,” she says with a confident nod in our direction.

Tess hides her face in her hands, muttering, “Oh my God…” but my heart fucking swells at the approval of a total stranger. It makes no sense whatsoever, but it’s like a confirmation of some kind that I didn’t know I needed until right this very second.

“Well, thank you for that,” I say, giving Tess’s shoulder another squeeze and leaning in. “You hear that? We’re cute.”

“Can I just slide under the table really quick?” Tess asks, still covering her blushing face.

It’s an innocent question. A completely, one-hundred percent, no doubt about it innocuous question, but man, my mind dives straight into the fucking gutter. A place it has no being in the middle of this family restaurant with my daughter across the God damned table. But just the thought…the idea…of Tess there…between my legs…

Fuck.

I clear my throat, grab my own water, and take a sip to try to stave off the dirty thoughts that are only growing more pervasive as they bounce around my brain.

“Anyway…we should probably order, huh?” I ask, reluctantly pulling my arm away from Tess to try to focus my brain on the task at hand.

Dinner. A family-friendly dinner. That’s what we’re here for.

Jesus Christ.

After dinner, which continues without further embarrassment by my conniving daughter, we drive Tess back to the studio to get her car. Charlie has gotten quiet during the ride, and as I park, I notice she’s fallen asleep in the back seat. Tess and I glance at each other briefly, and my stomach tightens a little at having to end our time together already. It’s too soon. And our official date on Friday can’t come soon enough.

“I’ll see you to your car,” I say, opening my door, my voice low so as not wake Charlie.

As we walk to her car nearby, our hands are drawn together, our fingers intertwining. It’s so fucking natural. So comfortable. So us. Something about the feeling makes me pull her to me, my hands framing her face as I lean in to kiss her.

I was only going for a chaste kiss goodnight, but when our lips brush against each other, an inferno ignites inside of me. As much as the lesser part of me wants to, I can’t deny that I want Tess, in every way possible. And dinner tonight with the three of us only solidified that sentiment.

My fingers slide through her hair, and we lean against her car as our tongues dance, our breaths hitching, and our hearts racing in the same rhythm. The hunger inside of me that I’m perpetually fighting against is screaming to be satisfied, and I don’t know how much longer I can tame it.

Being so close to Tess, every day, for hours at a time, is starting to drive me fucking crazy. And when she kisses me back like this, her body instinctively arching into mine, and her arms around my neck pulling me in - that restraint becomes even more difficult.

No, it’s nearly impossible.

Tess must realize that we’re getting carried away, too, because she pulls away. I can tell it’s a bit reluctantly, and my chest tightens at the thought that she’s as into this as I am. She glances over my shoulder to my car, where Charlie is still sleeping; blissfully unaware that her little matchmaking is paying off dividends.

“You should probably get sleepyhead over there to bed,” she says with a smile, and God damn if I don’t want to just start kissing her all over again.

I don’t do it. But fucking hell, I want to.

So, I do have some self-control. Nice.

“Yeah,” I say, half-heartedly, taking a step back to allow myself to take a breath. “Thanks for coming to dinner with us.”

“Of course,” she says, fishing for her keys in her purse. I can tell she’s hiding her own disappointment at our having to end the evening. “I had a great time.”

“Good,” I say with an awkward nod. Since when am I awkward? I’m not awkward. What the fuck? “Text me when you get home.”

And what, am I her father now, too? Wanting check-ins for safety? What the actual fuck is going on with me tonight? Or am I just slipping in and out of Dad-Mode? Is that even a thing?

Why am I questioning everything now?

Fucking hell.

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