Page 63 of The Dating Pact

Amelia and I finished another two games while she told me about something funny Scarlett, Dylan’s daughter, had told her and how she wanted Santa to bring her a yo-yo for Christmas. I ordered pizza from a local place, and since Jude had left his card to use, I added some garlic knots and little mini cannoli for dessert.

“You got a few months to wait until Christmastime,” I told her as we settled on the couch in the living room, admiring the blown-up picture of Jude, Mira, and the kids after her last race. I tried to imagine being in Jude’s place, lifting the weight of his own grief along with the weight of his children’s. It was exhausting.

But he was doing well, and I couldn’t have been more proud, especially in following through with his desire to put himself out there. It took bravery. I knew because I was doing it too. Or, attempting it.

Once again, I pushed away the creeping jealousy in my veins as I thought about him with some woman, making her laugh, curling his warm hands around her waist, kissing her in the same way he kissed me, like spun sugar and pure sin. Giving me everything I could ask for, fulfilling every fantasy, and somehow still holding on tightly to what we were at the core: friends.

I couldn’t stand it. Picturing him with someone else. So I tapped Seb’s shoulder. “Why don’t you pick a movie? Whatever you like.”

His eyes lit up. “Even rated R?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, my guy.”

He sniffed a laugh and traded his game for the remote control, flipping through their streaming services.

“Ooh! Ooh!” Amelia danced around. “H-h-how ’bout Ratatouille?” She turned to me, her face so close to mine her eyes became one. “It’s a rat cooking, and he-he is so funny. Pulls on the guy’s hair and, like…” She acted out some scene from the movie, and I nodded to her brother.

“What do you say? Ratatouille?”

Amelia threw herself at him, hands folded. “Please, brother!”

He heaved a sigh, though he couldn’t hide his smile. “Fine.”

He put the movie on—it was actually quite cute—and we all ate our pizza in the living room with promises that they wouldn’t tell their dad, then laughed together as Amelia reenacted her favorite parts. I worried Seb would give me a hard time, but the three of us had fun. I may have paid him off with a gigantic ice cream sundae, but still, a ten-year-old boy calling me “awesome” was awesome.

Bedtime was pretty easy, both of them self-sufficient enough to take a bath or shower by themselves, changing into pajamas and brushing their teeth. All these two needed was a bit of prodding and a few minutes on my cell phone, one of them on either side of me as I flipped through an Instagram account that featured videos of farm animals doing cute things, like baby goats hopping around or a cow lying on top of her favorite human to cuddle.

“That was the last one,” I said, shutting off my phone.

“One more?” Amelia pleaded, big eyes blinking up at me.

It was already past 9:30, and I assumed Jude would be coming home soon. I couldn’t be the babysitter who let the kids rule the roost.

“Next time,” I told her. “You want me to tuck you in?”

She nodded, but when I asked the same of Seb, he said he was fine and walked to his bedroom. “I’ll be right here,” I told him, and he offered me a tight-lipped smile.

Couldn’t lie. My heart did flip once or twice when he closed his door with a quiet, “Night, Brooke.”

My heart flopped for the third time when I bent over Amelia in her purple bed, her arms reaching out to me. “Hug.”

I happily obliged, cuddling her tiny frame to me, kissing the side of her head. “Goodnight, sweet girl.”

She yawned against my ear. “Night night. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, giving in to my need for another embrace. When I let her go, she immediately rolled to her side, snuggling three of her unicorns under her arm.

I quietly cleaned up the kitchen for a bit, but it wasn’t long before I heard the lock on the front door unlatch. A few moments later, Jude sidled up next to me at the sink. “Hey. How was your night? How were the kids?”

“Perfect angel babies.” I opened the dishwasher to load it, giving me an out so I didn’t have to meet his gaze. “How’d the date go?”

“Good. Fun. She’s…”

I finished lining the dirty dishes on the bottom rack and stood up straight, raising my brows in his direction at his incomplete thought.

“She’s more my speed.”

I slanted my attention to a dish towel, nodding absently, trying to be adult about this. Remembering to relax my jaw.

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