Page 5 of Head Over Heels

“Screw you. You wouldn’t be dating either if you had a five-year-old living in your house. And besides, I have a date Saturday. Oh,” I say glumly, remembering my conundrum. “I did. When I had a nanny. Now I don’t know. I guess it depends on whether Emily’s around.”

Liv was the first person I called when I had to fire Katie’s old nanny for nipping from my liquor cabinet. She was the one who’d recommended Celia in the first place, and she felt pretty bad about not knowing that Celia had a drinking problem. She was eager to help me find someone new, but didn’t know anyone good who was free.

Liv tilts her head. “I have Saturday off. I could watch Katie.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Then I’d already be there for the consolation party.”

That’s our thing: watching movies together after one of us has gone on an especially crappy date. It’s a long story. I give her a dirty look. “You assume I’ll need consoling. She might be The One.”

She rolls her eyes. “The One? Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Chase?”

That makes me laugh. “Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

“I’ll be impressed if you go out with her twice.”

“She does love baseball.”

“Well,then.”

I sigh. “She’s the most promising candidate in a long time.”

“For what? Sex twice in one night?”

I give her the finger.

“Anyway, what do you think? Do you want me to bring you and Katie takeout tonight? We can watch a movie or not—doesn’t matter to me.”

It’s been a challenge, getting healthy food on the table every night for Katie. When I was batching it, I didn’t worry about what I ate, but now it’s practically all I think about. So I’m grateful to the nth degree for someone else taking care of a meal. And Liv knows it. She’s brought over takeout a bunch of times since Katie moved in.

“Six fifteen?”

We fist-bump.

As she melts off toward the front of the store, Brooks appears at my side, his eyes fixed on Liv’s retreat.

It is a pretty sight, I’ll grant you that, but she doesn’t deserve Brooks’s ogling, so I shove him.

He raises his eyebrows, but I ignore him.

“Wanna grab a beer after work?” he says.

“Can’t.”

“Oho—hot date?”

“Nah. Liv’s bringing Katie and me takeout.”

Brooks narrows his eyes. “You’ve got to explain this to me. How Liv’s bringing you takeout is not a date.”

“It’s not a date because Liv and I arefriends.Like you and Rodro and I arefriends.So if I eat takeout with you guys, it’s not a date.”

“But Rodro and I aren’t hot redheads with an amazing rack,” Brooks points out.

My friendship with Liv is a mystery to my guy friends, who can’t believe I could hang around her and not want to—their words—tap that.

Liv’s hot, sure. Long and lean and leggy, with a great smile and curves most guys would kill to get their hands on. But I don’t have those kinds of feelings for her, and even if I did, I’d never cross that line. She’s too good a friend, plus we’d drive each other nuts in under twenty-four hours—if we made it that long.

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