Page 67 of Enemy Daddy Next Door

“And that girlfriend of yours, she can come too.”

I freeze. “Uhm – well –”

“Don’t want to get her wrapped up in it? Alright. Fine. I get it. Tomorrow, Ricks. You’re on my books.”

I start to respond, but he hangs up before I can. I put the phone down and take a moment to breathe. I know I have everything under control as well as I can. But I can’t help being frustrated there’s anything to even get under control. Life was going perfectly. I was taking care of Jess, falling for Amy. That in and of itself felt like a lot to balance.

Now, all of that can slip away in the blink of an eye if I’m not careful.

* * *

I watch Amy push a meatball around her plate. She’s barely eating. I’m barely eating. Our food has gone cold.

“How’s the spaghetti?” I ask.

“Good,” she replies with a small smile.

“Good.”

The restaurant around us is just as quiet except for tinkling piano music playing over the loudspeakers. I thought it best to leave Jessica out of our dates for now. She’s having a playdate with Stella at Axel and Gillian’s house while Amy and I connect.

However, there is a significant lack of connecting right now.

It feels…awkward. Not in the sense that anything has changed, but it feels like there’s a wall up between us that neither of us knows how to take down.

“How’s your filet?”

I glance down at my filet mignon of which I’ve taken one bite. “Good.”

“Good.”

The only thing we’ve both managed to consume is our wine. We’re splitting a bottle. About three quarters of it are gone.

Amy drains her latest glass and I immediately hold up the bottle. “More?”

“Please.”

She holds out her glass and I tip the bottle in, watching the red wine slosh inside like a red sea.

“Did I…did I tell you how nice you look tonight?” I say softly.

Amy flushes. “About ten times already.”

“Oh, well…”

She shrugs bashfully. “It’s not like I get tired of hearing it.”

“Well, it’s about the only coherent thought I’ve managed to communicate aloud to you all night.”

Amy lifts her eyes to mine, brown and wonderfully soft. I reach across the table, take her hand, and then kiss her knuckles. “You’re beautiful, Amy.”

She flushes.

“You’re nervous, tonight.”

She nods. “So are you.”

I chuckle. “Is it obvious?”

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