Page 127 of DadBod

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Well.” How do I say this to a fourteen-year-old? “He was kind of rude when I walked into When in Rome to apply.”

“Not a surprise. Still….”

“I thought he was gorgeous.”

She makes a gagging noise.

“Honey. Your father is not hard on the eyes. Lots of people think he’s hot as sin.”

“Gross.”

“You asked.”

“I did. You can spare me that part. When did you love him?”

Laying back onto my bed, I close my eyes, trying to remember if there was a day, or an hour, or a moment that I knew. “I think it was gradual. The longer I knew him and watched how hard he worked and how smart and talented he was, it grew from there.”

“But he can be such a jerk.”

“He can absolutely be a jerk, but it never lasts that long, and there’s always a reason for it. He’s not moody for no reason.” I overheard him once mutter something like, “Surrounded by fools and idiots.” I still laugh when I recall that day because, of course, he wasn’t talking about me.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“That guy was cute today, right?”

Ah. Now I see where this is going. “He was cute.”

“He gave me his Snap.”

I know what that is. It’s an app the kids use. At least that’s how Jeriann explained it to me when she tried to get me to try it. I still can’t figure out how to use it, but whatever.

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Does that mean he’s got yours?”

“Not yet.”

“Probably good to keep him guessing for a bit.”

“Do you really think so?”

I laugh. “I have no idea. I’m no good at the dating thing. Jeriann’s the one to ask.”

“Let’s call her.”

I glance at the clock. “She’s at work. I’ll text her and ask her to call us when she has a chance.”

“Cool.”

I send my best friend a text, then change into my pajamas and crawl into bed. Ryann’s found another reality show to watch, which means I can curl up with my book. Not the trilogy. I wouldn’t read that with a teen in the same room. No way. This one is a Regency romance written back in the 1800s. Safe.

I’m jolted awake by my ringing phone.

“It’s Jeriann. Can I answer it?”

Crap. I must’ve fallen asleep. “Sure. Yeah.” Rolling away from the light of the television, I close my eyes and drift off again, dreaming of my very own Romeo.

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