Page 30 of Love Me Like It's Real
“It’s a website, Hayworth. It’s not exactly a secret, you know.”
“Yeah, but in order to see the schedule you need to join the club.”
Mom studies me in silence. I don’t back down. I hold her gaze and wait for answers she’s not willing to give.
“Fine. I’ve got your password saved from when you used my laptop to update the website.”
I gasp. “You naughty woman!”
She raises an eyebrow. “Oh spare me the bullshit and listen to me. If you’re planning on being yourself with this guy then it’s best you leave him alone. There are plenty of other men to have your fun with. You don’t need to hurt someone decent. Not someone who’s got kids. Someone who’s probably trying to do their best every day for his kids.”
I huff and sit back. “Relax, Mom. It’s just a date. It’s probably just gonna be sex anyway.”
“And? So what if it is? These things tend to get complicated, whether you like it or not.”
I shake my head and focus on the coffee and pie instead of humoring Mom’s catastrophizing of something so simple as a hookup.
Because that’s all it’s going to be. A good night with a sexy man and then we would both move on with our lives, no harm no foul.
It’s not long before Mom forgets about me and starts berating Wells and his life choices. Sometimes I feel like both our moms have made a deal to judge us every chance they get and make sure they do so without regard for who’s their real kid and who isn’t. Regardless of the truth, their words always hit harder when they’re aimed at their adoptive son.
“You, honey, you’re worse. And you’ll remember me when karma decides to hit back at you like a piñata at a party for a boy with anger management issues,” she tells him and Wells kisses his teeth but stays quiet, holding his cup of coffee as if it’s his only salvation.
Sometimes, I think we’re both masochists for spending so much time with other families when that’s the kind of ranting we get at every opportunity. We may very well be.
When we leave Mom’s she makes sure to chew my ear off one more time, but I don’t let it faze me.
She’s making a bigger deal out of this than it is. And so is Wells who might not share Mom’s concerns but he does agree kids complicate hookups.
But that’s all it is. That’s all it can be, anyway. Even if I was interested in dating someone, they wouldn’t be a single dad. That’s a recipe for disaster. For them. Not for me.
Because Mom and Wells are right. Kids complicate things. But only when we’re talking about serious stuff. Who says single dads can’t have fun, if they’re in fact single? Is it supposed to mean that as soon as someone has kids their sex life has to take a nosedive whether they’re married or not? That’s unfair for them.
So there. I’m doing this guy a favor. Or not a favor. A service. It’s goodwill. If everyone treats him as if he’s a fragile creature because of his kids, then he hasn’t had some in a while and I’m happy to be the toy that serves him for a night.
But first…
“Youaresingle, right?” I ask him when he opens his front door and he grimaces.
“And good evening to you too,” he replies and I’m taken aback.
He looks stunning. His hair is styled to the side, the curls adding volume and definition and even more color as it looks pinker than it was earlier today. His eyes look more green than they have before and more pronounced, probably thanks to the pink eyeshadow and black eyeliner. His lips look glossy and so inviting and his skin is positively glowing as if he’s been dipped in glitter.
“Sorry. It’s been eating at me all day so I need to get the question out of the way,” I tell him, although focusing on anything but his true beauty is an incredibly hard task right now. “Are you single?”
He cocks his head to the side and a curl bounces up and down but settles back in its place.
“Do you think the girls would put on such a production if I wasn’t?”
I breathe a sigh of relief and it makes me lighter than I’ve felt all day.
“Thank you,” I tell him and offer him my hand.
He glances to the side and takes my hand with a forced smile.
“Just so you know,” he grinds between his teeth without breaking the contact or the smile. “I’m only doing this for the girls.”
He casts his glance to the side again and I follow it to find the two gorgeous girls at the window watching with glee in their faces. There’s another girl, above them, a Black girl with big glasses and her hair in a ponytail. Cheyenne. Wells’s niece.
