Page 15 of The Single Dad

Holy hell. That was … something. SHE is something else. I’ve never come as hard as I did, and it’s like a brand new world has opened up for me, for us.

Noelle was supposed to be off-limits. It was the unspoken rule from day one. But I should have known, rules never stood a chance against her.

I want to care what Peter would think. Really, I do. But if it comes down to it, him or her? I already know the answer, and I’m sick and tired of lying to myself. I’m too far in. Too gone.

She’s not just someone I like. She’s the only person who’s ever made me feel like I’m home.

I roll us over until she’s above me, my cock softening but still inside her. My heart pounds like it’s about to burst, but it’s the feeling of warmth spreading from my chest to my limbs that makes me smile. I plant a kiss on her temple and whisper, “I’m never letting you go, baby. Never. No matter what.”

6

NOELLE

“Iapplied to a couple of schools here, but we’re almost to the end of the school year. So even if I get accepted, I still have a couple of months of rest.” I take another bite of my pancake, savoring the warmth of maple syrup melting on my tongue. Across from me, Adrian sips his coffee, one hand resting lazily on the table as he watches me eat with an amused smirk.

“Can I sit in on one of your classes?”

I snort. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I try to picture you in my head as this teacher, but all I can remember is the ten-year-old who used her mom’s lipstick and smeared it all over her face.”

“God, why do you still remember that? I’ve already buried the memory deep in my brain. I’m not even sure that actually happened. For all I know, maybe it was something you and Peter came up with.”

“You know what young kids say today? Denial is a river in Egypt.”

“Young kids? Adrian, there’s really no need to show your age. Just say Gen Z.”

He ignores the jab. “Still an expert at steering conversations, I see. Well, let’s talk about the time you?—”

A sudden knock at the door interrupts us. Adrian’s forehead furrows, and he sighs, setting his mug down. “Be right back. Must be one of my employees.”

I smile at him and keep eating, biting a big piece of bacon and absentmindedly listening to his footsteps. He makes a pretty mean breakfast. Yet another thing I admire about him. He can have an early start at work, but he always, always makes sure to have Thomas’s breakfast ready when he wakes up.

The door creaks open, and I wonder if he’ll need to leave for an emergency issue on site. It won’t be the first time it happened.

After he opens the door, there’s silence, which is pretty weird. Did he get out or something? Did the neighborhood kids ring the doorbell and run?

But no. Adrian’s speaking. His voice is low, clipped, and sharp.

I freeze mid-bite and blink slowly. It’s not a tone I’ve heard from him before.

Raw, unfiltered anger. It’s way more menacing than when he confronted the other dad at the game. I can feel his fury all the way from where I’m sitting.

My stomach tightens as I set my fork down, the food suddenly unimportant. Slowly, I rise to my feet, straining to hear. Who’she talking to? Adrian’s not quick to anger, so there must be a reason.

His voice is firm, unwavering. “You shouldn’t be here, not after all this time. ”

A second voice responds, but it’s too low for me to make out the words.

Adrian again, sharper this time, like he’s trying to keep a lid on his temper. Very unusual for him since he’s one of the most patient men I know. “I don’t care. I stopped giving a damn about you the day you walked out on our son. Get the hell off my porch.”

A chill runs down my spine. Oh my God. It’s her.

I move cautiously toward the hallway, my pulse quickening with every step, taking care not to be seen but close enough to finally make out what they’re both saying.

“I just need money, okay? Then I’ll be out of your hair. If you want me to stay away, just give me a couple of thousand dollars. It’s not like you’re not loaded, and it’s not as if you’re ever short on funds.” Her tone is enough to make me dislike her. Smug, arrogant, and cold. She’s not even asking about Thomas, not begging to see him.

“No. You don’t even bother to send him cards on his birthday or call to let him know you’re still alive.”

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