Page 37 of Hat Trick Holidate

Finally, I can freaking breathe, as he pads down the hallway. Why does he twist me up in knots?

When I return downstairs, Bryce is wearing clothes—thank God. My lady parts tingle every time I see his sculpted body.

He has Jolie nestled in beside him as he reads a book to her. When he finishes, he says, “Jolie is going to Reed and Brooke’s tonight to play with their kids, so she won’t be going to the after-school program today.”

I chew on my bottom lip while I think. “That’s right; Cannon and Colby only come on Wednesdays. I’m finally remembering the kids’ names.”

“Cannon told Reed that you’re the best after-school teacher he has ever had, which doesn’t surprise me,” he praises me with his head leaning back on the couch.

“Aww, that’s sweet. I can’t believe I still haven’t met Reed’s wife.”

He scrunches one brow and twists those raspberry lips. “You met Reed’s wife eight years ago.”

“I know but things change in eight years. I mean since moving here. We’re never at the same games. I guess things get complicated when you have multiple children.”

He nods in agreement. “Do you have plans tonight? Going out on the town?” he asks.

I grin. “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a date.”

His mouth falls open. “Oh. With whom? Sorry, it’s none of my business.” Bryce clips each word.

Is he jealous?

I hope he’s jealous. Why? Because as much as I knowbeing friends is the right thing for Jolie, my lady parts beg to differ.

“Well, if you don’t need anything else, I have to run an errand before work.”

He growls. “Have a good time.” But judging by the tone of his voice, he wants my date to be fat and balding.

“Bye, Jolie.”

Her pigtails pop over the couch, and she waves to me.

BRYCE

She has a date.Where did she meet this guy? Is he a teacher at her school? Or worse, an MMA fighter.

I feel a pang of something I can't quite place. Jealousy? Anger? Disappointment? All I know is that I can't stand the thought of her with another guy. But what can I do? She drew a line that we can’t cross.

I didn't tell her about my own date and now I'm stuck thinking about whether she’ll smile and blush. Whether she’ll let him kiss her goodnight.

Brooke’s Real Life Dating app claims to have found the perfect match for me, and has set me up with someone who supposedly checks all my boxes. But let's be real, who actually wants a ready-made family? And I have a feeling that when I meet this girl, her hair won't be the natural color I specified. Not that it matters, but when I chose the hair color I wanted, the only person on my mind was Rusti, a.k.a., Emmaline.

Since I’m unable to back out of the date or fear Reed’swrath, and my loyalty to Brooke, I read Jolie another book. I set the house alarm so I can go upstairs and put on a pair of dress pants and a dress shirt. Maybe this is what I need—a date to take my mind off what I can’t have.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I haven’t found another woman for the past eight years who has taken my mind off of the spunky, rambling, beautiful Emmaline.

Maybe it's not too late to cancel my date and ask Emmaline to cancel hers. Or maybe it's just too damn late.

EMMALINE

Although I detested signingup for a dating app, I admit that I’m excited. Even if it is only to get the tall, blond, and handsome man out of my mind for a minute. It’s time for my next adventure in life. Moving to Atlanta hasn’t been that much of a culture shock. Atlanta is a vibrant city that rivals Los Angeles’ cuisine.

My blind date and I agreed to meet at a casual restaurant called Par-Tee Putt & Grub. I might be a little overdressed, but I wanted to feel confident on my first date in over a year. It’s an off-the-shoulder dress with long sleeves and an A-line that flares over my hips.

I carry my clutch and ask the hostess if anyone is waiting for a blind date.

“No one has told me, but do you have reservations?”

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