Page 5 of Tempt

We had Big Macs last weekend, and I’m not feeding my kid fast food twice a week if I can help it.

“I can get the frozen kind of pasta that goes in the oven. Final offer.”

We’re shopping on a Monday because I was up late preparing for the first week of class, and missed getting organized at home. We barely made it to the dance studio this afternoon.

“You’re crushing this single dad thing.”Kat’s voice comes back to me.

Fuck, I wish she was right.

Running into her was a surprise. Despite the actual collision, I can’t say it was unpleasant.

My best friend and her roommate have been dating for the past year. What makes it salacious is that he’s ten years older and, until recently, was her professor.

I’ve met Liv’s friends more than once but it’s Kat I remember most.

The night at the club was months ago, but the way she looked, the way she danced, even the faint hint of sweat at her throat, are all fresh in my mind.

Perhaps because she seems to enjoy pushing my buttons.

When I accepted the job at Russell and moved back to Elmwood two years ago, it was supposed to be a fresh start after everything that happened.

In some ways, it has been.

My faculty job is rewarding, and I reconnected with some old friends.

But problems are still problems. I’m alone and raising a kid, and I can’t kick the feeling life wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Life doesn’t always go to plan. But being deliberate about the things I can control keeps my world from careening off the rails when it doesn’t.

I’m heading for the frozen entrée section when I see the woman standing in an open freezer door by the ice cream.

Kat’s white shirt is unbuttoned, the white tank top underneath hugging her breasts and rides up her stomach as she stands on tiptoe to reach the top shelf with one hand. A single cupcake is clutched in the other.

“…Damn Roommateiversary. And moving out. And…”

“You need a hand?” I ask. She genuinely looks as if she’s a heartbeat away from tumbling into the freezer headfirst.

Kat turns to take me in.

In heels, she’s a couple of inches shorter than me. Her heart-shaped face is fresh, her full mouth stained the color of raspberries at the end of summer. She’s always reminded me of a woodland fairy from one of Andy’s books: harmless at first glance, but full of mischievous intent.

“Can you believe the Rocky Road is on the top shelf?”

“They should put the best flavors where you can reach them.”

“That’s what I say.” She smiles and blinks bright eyes fringed in dark lashes.

“You have icing on your hand.”

She inspects her thumb, then sucks the pink frosting off.

It takes a moment for my brain to resume functioning. “This is my son, Andy.”

“Nice to meet you, Andy. I’m Kat.”

Her dark pants hug her legs, riding low enough there’s a gap between their waistband and her tank.

“You like Rocky Road too?” my kid asks.

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