Page 39 of Well Played

We eat the entrée and main seated at the small table on her balcony, using the inside lights instead of candles, and talk about how our childhood led us to our chosen careers.

“What’s next for you?” she asks and it’s a reasonable question.

“Proving a solid earning capability is important to demonstrate how I can be a stable influence in Charlotte’s life and cancels out one of Sloan’s arguments.”

“Do you have plans?”

“I do, but … and I don’t want to sound like a dick … but I can’t talk about them with anyone at the moment. I’ve signed some papers and if I can’t allow my lawyer to throw it on the table in the custody dispute, then I can’t talk about it with you.”

“Is it illegal?”

“What? Hell, no.”

“Are you going to disappear for three months only to turn up on my TV?”

“Again, no. I’m not about to become a hitman or go on a reality TV show. It’s nothing like that, but I don’t want to get into twenty questions. I won’t lie to you, but this job is too important for me to blow it up by talking about it before I’m legally allowed to.”

Willow stands and offers me her hand. I need to let her take the lead, but at this point, I’ll follow her anywhere. “Let’s go inside for dessert.” She takes a deep breath and adds, “But I’m not ready to do more than kiss, if that’s okay?”

I capture her in my arms and try to silence her words with another kiss that proves the first wasn’t a fluke with explosive fireworks and emotion. Willow is breaking through walls I never knew existed.

“I told you before you have a cute ass and I want to feed you chocolate, so bring on dessert.” I kiss the tip of her nose and love how she blushes. “We can take this as slowly as you want. I’ll keep coming back for more.”

CRUNCH TIME

Bronx

As I getready for my meeting with Lloyd McMillan five weeks after my first date with Willow, I can’t believe how fast the weeks have gone.

Thanks to Lloyd’s lawyer, I collect Charlotte from school on Wednesdays and return her to her mother’s on Saturday afternoons. When Charlotte is playing soccer—the round form of football—she has all three parents on the sidelines cheering her on. That’s right, she has three parents. Sometimes, I forget that I hate thesperm donorand remember he used to be my best friend. Although Sloan still refuses to sign permanent arrangements, once I can talk about my new job, she’ll lose the last leverage for why I am not a suitable parent for our daughter.

As for Willow, we are taking no risks with our relationship. She is the first voice I hear each morning and the last voice I hear at night. Conscious of not having strange cars parked outside my house for our date nights, I cycle or jog to Willow’s and leave at dawn to shower and change at home.

It’s getting harder to keep up the public pretense of not being in a relationship when I’m falling more and more in love with her each day. It won’t be forever. It can’t be. My blue balls will fall off if it lasts much longer because I made the gentlemanly offer not to have sex until we could walk into any room as partners.

Yes. That was my idea, but the longer it takes for the Flying Foxes to hand back their license, and my job as Southern Mavericks head coach is announced to the world, and my claim for a permanent role in Charlotte’s life is assured, the harder it is to sleep next to Willow at night without beingwithher.

I love the way she tosses and turns, throwing sheets off and then pulling them back on. I love the way she refuses to order dessert with our home deliveries, but once they arrive, she sneaks pieces from my plate. I love the way she spends all night marking assignments and providing personalized feedback for each student.

I love the goodness of her heart and the way her smile powers mine.

The reasons to stay apart are slowly becoming less relevant. Yes, she's younger than me but seven years isn't that much. Yes, she's my daughter's teacher. But we only talk about her job in the abstract and since I still can't talk to her about my job we have time to talk about who we are as people.

“Mmm, morning,” she says, waking and laying her head on my chest. It’s time.

“So, I was thinking …”

“Should I be scared?” She kisses my cheek, still half-awake.

“Depends. You spend all day with children, do you want children of your own?”

Willow doesn’t hesitate to respond. “I’ve always wanted to be a mother … with the right man.” Then she throws the question back at me.

“What about you? Why did you only have Charlotte?”

If I say the words, they’ll become real. I suck in my breath and wrap my hand around Willow’s, holding it to my heart. I need her warmth and her love.

“Yes, I want more children … with the right woman. I always wanted more and didn’t understand why falling pregnant with Charlotte had been so easy, and then, nothing. Month after month, nothing. I wanted to try IVF, but Sloan said we didn't need to.”

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