Page 2 of Second Chance for the Single Mom

“You told me last week that you wish you could end your dry spell, but are afraid of putting yourself out there,” Sara said, sounding like an attorney making their case. “You know Lucas. He isn’t a random guy.”

“I haven’t talked to him since high school,” I insisted. “That was a lifetime ago.”

“Seven years isn’t that long,” Sara continued. “And didn’t you two have, like, crazy chemistry back then?”

She was right about that. Lucas and I had dated for a few months during our senior year of high school, and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other the entire time. We went at it like rabbits that year: in the back of his Honda Accord, on my living room couch when my parents weren’t home, even in the baseball dugout when he was done with practice. I’d slept with six other guys in my life, and none of them had come close to having the amount of chemistry as I had with Lucas.

“We drove each other insane,” I answered. “Lucas was a self-centered asshole. He forgot my birthday, and when hedidfind out about it two days later, he tried to make it up by taking me to Chili’s.” I gestured with my wine glass. “Chili’s, Sara!”

She let out a giggle. “I remember that. Mom and I called himBaby Back Ribsfor the rest of your relationship.” She shook her head. “But who cares if he was a bad boyfriend? We’re talking aboutsex, which you said was always amazing. You should hook up with him tonight.”

“I need another glass of wine before I keep talking about this.” I picked up the bottle and gave myself a healthy pour. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Sara gave me an annoyed look, but then asked, “Have you heard back about that private school?”

“The Worthington Academy?” I shook my head. “I haven’t heard back. It’s only been a week, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Aw, why not? I thought you’ve been saving up for the tuition.”

“I have. Why do you think I’m still living in the apartment above your garage?”

“Because you love being so close to your baby sister?” she said sweetly.

“You’re only a year younger than me. And yes, I love living this close. But no, I’ve been saving up since Bran was born. I have the money. But I don’t think he will get in. Apparently, the Worthington is very exclusive. Claire’s daughter didn’t get in.”

Sara groaned. “Private school for a five-year-old. I’m not looking forward to stuff likethatwhen the twins are born next month.” She gently stroked her belly.

“And you’ll have twice the tuition to pay,” I said.

“Harper’s in charge of our finances, and he says we’ll be all right.” Sara glanced out at Bran playing in the yard. “All I have to worry about is popping these two loaves of bread out of the oven.”

“You’ll do great,” I reassured her. “Mom gave us good birthing genes.”

Sara glared at me. “She gaveyougood birthing genes, just like she gave you perfect skin and straight teeth. I had to wear braces, and had acne until I was twenty-two. It remains to be seen about the birthing genes.”

“You’ve got wide hips. If anything, your birth will go easier.”

She stiffened. “Are you calling my ass fat?”

“Yes! I wish I had an ass like yours!”

She dropped her fake outrage and pushed to her feet, then turned around and started dancing, wiggling her butt as best as she could in her very-pregnant state. The two of us laughed, and then she carefully lowered herself back into her chair.

“Drink up,” she told me. “I want to go back to talking about Lucas.”

I groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“You could be having hot, meaningless sextonight. And for some reason, you’re resistant to the idea.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even replied to him.”

“Then text him back!” she insisted. “I promise I’ll shut up if you do.”

Letting out a dramatic sigh, I opened the text and began typing. Sara slid her chair closer so she could watch.

Me: Hi Lucas, it’s been a long time. Yeah, I still have the same number. I’m surprised you’re back in Vancouver. Didn’t you move out East?

Lucas: I was in Detroit for a few years. Felt like a change. I’ll tell you all about it over a drink. I’d love to catch up.

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