Within seconds, I got back, Babe, he’s the commissioner of the fifth grade fantasy league.
That was when I stared at my phone.
I had no idea my son ran a fantasy football league.
How could that even be?
I didn’t look at my kid.
I kept my eyes to my phone while I made a big decision.
Ethan and I had our things, just Ethan and me. Mom and Ethan had their things, just Mom and Ethan.
And Ethan had shared something with Merry that he hadn’t shared with me.
I had no idea if running a fantasy football league at age ten (almost eleven) was good or bad. I just knew, unlike any other man I’d let into my life, Merry had a moral compass. If he thought it was bad, he’d say something and not the way he’d just said it.
So the big decision I made was that I was going to let my son and my man have their things, just Ethan and Merry.
Well good, I texted and sent. Then, I’d hoped he’d be an engineer, but Vegas bookie is just as sweet.
To that I got, Stop making me laugh when I can’t kiss you.
Which made me grin again.
“Yeesh,” my boy muttered, disgusted. “Merry’s not even here and you’re all gooey.”
That didn’t make my grin die.
Not even slightly.
Though it did make me throw one of my many awesome, mismatched Janis Joplin pillows at him.
Ethan caught it and threw it back.
* * * * *
On Monday morning, after I’d dropped Ethan at school and hit the bank to deposit my tips (and the stupid one hundred dollar check that Trent and Peggy sent me, putting that in Ethan’s new account), I heard the text sound from my purse in the seat next to me as I was driving home.
I decided driving home safely was priority one, considering my life no longer sucked and I wanted to live it fully, so I left my phone in my bag (something I always did, considering, even when my life sucked, my kid was awesome, so being safe was always priority one).
But once I was in my driveway, I dug it out and was throwing open my door, looping my purse over my arm, and reading it at the same time.
It was from Merry.
Ethan get to school okay?
Not having him for years and falling in love with him more and more every time I saw him or even thought of him, I never would have thought, if the impossible happened and I got him, there would be farther to fall.
I was dead wrong.
I was moving my thumb over the phone as I hopped out of my car, nowhere near done with my text, when I started to shift out of the door to close it and ran into something.
I jerked in a turn and stared at my dickhead neighbor who was right there, in my space.
Okay, apparently, even when most of your life stops sucking, some of that suckage remained.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I replied, forcing myself not to look around to see if I could find Ryker watching.
“Sorry, baby.” He moved back half a step. “Thought you saw me.”
I got out of the way of my door, slammed it, and put space between us as I beat back a lip curl at him calling me “baby.”
I also did all this as I answered, “I was texting.”
“Yeah,” he said, taking a step toward me, and I held my ground even though I didn’t want to. “Listen, know you got a kid but thought you might wanna find someone to look after him and go grab a beer sometime.”
I looked to his house.
I saw the beat-up Chevy truck I knew he drove.
I did not see the run-down Ford Fiesta his woman drove.
Not good news.
I looked back at him. “It’s cool you askin’, but just to say, I got a kid and I also got a man.”
His face changed and it was not a happy change.
“Black Excursion?” he asked.
He’d been watching me.
Now I was the one who was not happy (or less happy, considering I wasn’t happy at all he was in my space).
“Yeah,” I told him.
He moved closer to me.
Shit.
“Dude’s not your style, darlin’,” he said in what I expected was his come-on voice.
It did nothing for me for more reasons than the fact the asshole didn’t even know my name, so he couldn’t know what my style was.
Unless he made assumptions about me.
Which pissed me off.
However, I could not engage.
And that sucked.
“’Fraid you’re wrong,” I replied, stepping away.
“That guy’s too clean-cut,” he declared, taking another step toward me. “You seem like a woman who likes to have fun, let it all hang out.” His gaze dipped to my tits. “And you can feel free to do that with me, baby.”
He was right. I was that kind of woman, and I was good doing that with Merry because my dickhead neighbor read Merry wrong—Merry was also that kind of man.
“Think we can have good times, you and me,” he stated, looking into my eyes again and taking yet another step toward me.
“Think my man wouldn’t be too happy about that,” I returned an understatement. “But you gotta know, I am happy with my guy, so no offense to you and your offer, but I’m good where I’m at.”
“You sure you wouldn’t wanna take a shot at better?” he pushed.
Him? Better?
He’d been watching but had he actually seen Merry?
“Got a good thing,” I said softly, hoping to get through and get this asshole away from me. “Been waitin’ for it a long time. It’s good for me. It’s good for my kid. No way I’m gonna fuck that up. You with me?”
Not that I’d even consider it with him.
Then again, I wouldn’t consider it with anybody…but Merry.