Mister Tonight Page 10

  “Can you two please stop doing that?” I asked.

  Rebecca put her hand on mine. “I hate to break it to you, Kate, but it sounds like you and Hunter are dating. Or at the very least, have feelings for each other.”

  I pulled my hand away and crossed my arms. “Come on, we’re just casual.”

  “It’s okay to date someone,” Jessie said, leaning on an elbow. “It doesn’t have to be scary. It’s just what you’ve been doing. Cooking, watching movies, hanging out. That’s all dating is.”

  Rebecca nodded. “We love you and think you’re amazing, and just want you to be happy. And it sounds like Hunter does make you happy. Why not just go for it?”

  I’d thought talking to my friends would help clarify things for me, but it had only made everything more complicated. I didn’t date people; it just wasn’t who I was. I didn’t like commitment.

  Hunter and I were having fun now, but what would happen a few years down the road when the fun wore off and reality set in? I’d end up just like my sister, in a bitter divorce. She’d been in love once too. She and her ex had seemed like the perfect couple, and now they couldn’t even be in the same room together. And our parents didn’t have a great relationship, either. After barely tolerating each other for many years, they finally divorced when we were teens.

  This was exactly what I’d spent my life trying to avoid. I hated the idea of loving someone, pouring everything into a relationship and then having it all go wrong.

  Several margaritas later, Rebecca and I shared a cab home from the restaurant. As I stared out the window, I slipped deep into thought about the situation with Hunter.

  “Look, I know this stuff freaks you out, but dating is fun. Seriously, being married is fun.” She interrupted my thoughts, patting my shoulder. “Aren’t you sick of going out on bad dates and having disappointing sex?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but after meeting Hunter, the idea of hooking up with someone else held no interest. I knew I was in denial. I liked Hunter, but I didn’t know how to navigate this situation. Usually when things got complicated, I checked out. But rather than wanting to avoid him, I found myself wishing I could see him.

  When the cab stopped in front of Hunter’s house, Rebecca gave me a sympathetic pat on the knee. “I know you’ll figure it out.” She smiled.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I laughed, climbing out of the car. I paused and turned back to her. “But seriously, you’re the best.”

  I leaned over the seat to give her a quick hug and watched the cab drive down the block. Once I was inside, I changed into sweatpants and a cozy T-shirt and lay back on my bed.

  After a few minutes of deliberation, and a little liquid courage thanks to that last margarita, I decided to text Hunter.

  Hey, want to watch a movie at my place?

  I paced the apartment, waiting for his response, and glanced out the window. His bedroom light was on, so that was a good sign. My phone pinged that he’d replied, and I pounced on it.

  I’m actually going on a date, with the woman from the bake sale. Maybe tomorrow?

  I stared at my phone, my heart pounding inside my chest. I tossed the phone aside and put my hands over my face, falling back onto the bed, almost sick to my stomach at the thought.

  What was I doing? This was insane. I was the one who’d encouraged him to go on a date. I had no right to be upset . . . but I was. I didn’t want him to date other people, but how could I say that to him? I don’t want to be in a relationship, but I also don’t want you to start a relationship with anyone else. He’d think I was ridiculous, which I was.

  I pulled a pillow over my face and screamed as I tried not to picture Hunter on his date.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hunter

  “More wine, sir?” the waiter asked, mercifully interrupting what was quickly becoming the worst date I’d ever been on in my entire life. The charming Italian place used to be one of my favorite restaurants, the perfect blend of classy and not too formal, presumably an excellent choice for a first date. But in this moment? I wanted to leave and never come back.

  “Yes, please, that would be great,” I said, trying to ignore the fact that June had spent the past half hour either droning on about her daughter’s bowel problems, or throwing back glass after glass of white wine. I think we were on number six, and I was starting to think I should get drunk myself to make it through the rest of this disaster.

  “You are quickly becoming my favorite waiter,” June purred, poking the scared-looking young man in the arm. Apparently, she was a little tipsier than she realized and poked him harder than she meant to, causing him to spill some wine on the white tablecloth.

  “My apologies,” the waiter said, clearly panicked, pulling a towel from his apron pocket and dabbing at the spot.

  “Whoopsies!” June giggled and took another long sip of her wine.

  “No, we’re sorry. Don’t worry about it, thank you.” I gave the waiter an apologetic look and waved him off. With a worried nod, he finished dabbing the spot on the table and hurried away.

  June turned her attention to me. “So, what about you? Have you given Maddie’s grade school any thought? I mean, clearly your mind was in the right place with preschool. Too many parents overlook it as the foundation of a good education, but I think that sometimes it’s easy to forget how important the next steps can be . . .”

  Apparently, I’d completely tuned out the last part of our conversation, and we had somehow skipped from poo to elementary school.

  I opened my mouth to respond but June went on, something about the importance of setting up our children for success as early as possible. Involuntarily, I slowly started to tune her out again. I agreed with what she was saying for the most part, but we’d been talking about our kids for so long, I was beginning to think they were the only thing we had in common.

  “I don’t know. What do you think? Hunter?” June was looking expectantly at me, her eyebrows practically touching her hairline.

  “I’m sorry. I must have spaced out for a moment. What were you saying?”

  In any other situation, I would have made up an excuse, but at that point, I didn’t really care about saving face. She was plastered, and I was miserable. No point in pretending this was anything other than what it was, right?

  “I was just wondering what you think about choosing public or private schools. But then there are charter schools, boarding schools . . . there are just so many choices.”

  “Honestly, I haven’t given it too much thought yet. I’m just trying to hang in there with the day-to-day stuff. We’ve just now got a handle on preschool,” I replied, doing my best to sound normal and engaged. If Kate were the one sitting across from me right now, I guarantee I’d be having way more fun right now.

  “Ugh, you’re so right. This single-parent thing is no joke.” She nodded, leaning toward me with her elbows on the table. “You know I’m always here if you need anything.”

  “I appreciate that, June. We’ve been managing so far.”

  She nodded again, slowly raising a single eyebrow. “I suppose you already have some extra help. I remember from the bake sale. Kara, was it?”

  Here we go.

  “Kate,” I said coolly. Let the grilling begin.

  “Kate, right. That was awfully sweet of her to bake that pie for you two. Have your tenants always been so helpful and . . . involved?”

  “Kate’s special, that’s for sure,” I heard myself saying.

  June’s eyebrow arched even higher. It was clear she was trying to make her interest seem as innocent as possible, but I could tell from the look on her face that she was suspicious. And honestly, she had every reason to be. Not that I was about to let her know that. Single dad with a fuck buddy wasn’t exactly the reputation I’d been going for among the other preschool parents.

  “Kate’s turned out to be such a huge help,” I added, putting my best stressed-out parent look on my face. “And Maddie has rea
lly taken to her.” Not to mention Kate’s funny, brilliant, confident, sexy—pretty much everything I could ever want in a partner.

  “How special for you and Maddie,” June said, her voice almost too sweet. “I might have to steal her from you. I’m always looking for better help.” She winked, clearly misunderstanding the nature of Kate’s help. But hey, I wasn’t about to correct her.

  I smiled weakly and took a sip of my wine. Before June could grill me any further about Kate, the waiter arrived with our meals. As he placed my entrée in front of me, the smell of the fennel and perfectly browned butter wafted up from the plate, melting away all my frustrations with June.

  Who cared if I was on a stupid date with a woman who only wanted to talk about the schools our children would go to? Who cared if she ordered a Caesar salad at a restaurant famous for their handmade pasta? I had my sausage and my pasta, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

  If Kate were here, she would have ordered something interesting, like the pumpkin ravioli or the eggplant parmesan. She would have let me try some of her food, and I would have rocked her world with this house-made sausage . . . before rocking her world with my own sausage later.

  Okay, maybe my food wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

  As the date went on, June managed to become even more boring. When she’d completely exhausted the topic of our kids’ schools, she moved on to her new favorite movie that she’d just seen last week.

  “I’m a sucker for any movie about horses,” she said, pushing a crouton around her plate. “Put a horse in a movie, and I’m there. Have you seen War Horse? If you haven’t, you have to. Immediately. It’s amazing.”

  I nodded, stuffing a huge bite of sausage into my mouth so it was clear I couldn’t politely respond. I’d never seen a movie about horses in my life, and I wasn’t looking to start anytime soon.

  “What’s the last movie you saw?” June asked, batting her lashes.

  My mind immediately traveled to the last time I saw Kate, when she was curled up on the couch pretending to be freaked out by a scary movie. It was probably the most creative booty call I’d ever received in my life . . . but a booty call, nonetheless. And not really the kind of thing you mention on a first date, no matter how horribly it’s going.

  “Probably something with princesses or talking animals,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t really have time for adult movies these days.”

  “Adult movies?” A sly grin spread across June’s face.

  Shit.

  “No—not like that. I’m not really a porn guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with watching those kinds of films, necessarily, I just, uh, no. But yeah, that’s not what I meant. I meant movies not made for children.”

  I didn’t know why I was rambling so much. Who cared what this woman thought? Not me, that was for sure. But the last thing I needed was for her to report back to the other parents at our school that I was a porn addict. Not the best look for me. More importantly, it wouldn’t bode well for Maddie.

  Jesus, I just want this night to be over with.

  “Mmm, don’t worry, I understand.” June raised her wineglass and gave me a knowing wink.

  Great. Guess I can add local perv to the list of things I’m known for with the preschool parents.

  I laughed awkwardly, racking my brain for something to say to change the subject. Before I could come up with anything, the waiter returned to check on us, asking if we’d like to see a dessert menu after eyeing our almost-empty plates.

  For the love of God, let this date end before dessert.

  “Not tonight,” June said to the waiter, crinkling her nose in disappointment. He nodded politely and cleared our plates. “Sorry for deciding for you. My babysitter just texted that she needs me.”

  “No worries. I should get back too,” I replied, grateful to be wrapping things up. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” she insisted. “The babysitter just has a, uh . . . math test or something tomorrow. That’s what I get for hiring the high schooler next door.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I would have guessed that June was the one bailing on me. Guess I’m not the only one having a bad time on this date after all.

  When the waiter returned with our check, I insisted on paying. My values might have been archaic, but letting the woman pay for the first date didn’t sit right with me. Kate would kill me if she heard me say that out loud.

  After finishing our wine, June and I walked to the parking lot together, where I waited until her cab pulled up, and then we shared an uncomfortable side hug. She wore too much perfume, which I found overpowering. It was nothing like Kate’s subtle scent.

  Once the cab drove off, I made my way to my car. I hadn’t realized that she took a cab to the restaurant, and suddenly it made sense why she drank so much wine. She was probably a little nervous that I’d finally said yes to her standing dinner-date invitation. And besides, what single parent wouldn’t want to let a little loose every once in a while, even if that only meant having an extra couple of glasses of wine with dinner?

  On the drive home, I went over all the times I thought about Kate during dinner. It felt a little unfair to June for me to be so checked out during the time I was supposed to be getting to know her, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I thought about what I wanted in a woman, Kate immediately popped into my head. Casual, no-strings-attached sex might be every man’s wet dream, but with the way things were going, it was suddenly starting to seem like a really bad idea.

  Maybe it was because of Maddie. Of course I wanted a female role model for her, and I wanted her to experience a mother’s love.

  Sure, there were parenting books and internet articles that could walk me through all the right things to say to my daughter as she “embarked on her journey into womanhood.” But in the back of my mind, I had a feeling all that would mean a lot more coming from someone who knew what it was like, who’d experienced it firsthand. Someone who loved my daughter as much as I did. And as much as it sucked, that woman would most likely not be Kate. Bridging the gap from booty call to stepmom was a big leap, and I couldn’t afford to let myself or Maddie become emotionally connected with Kate if she wasn’t going to stick around.

  When I pulled into the driveway, I glanced up at Kate’s window over the garage. The light was off, which either meant she was out or she’d called it an early night. Either way, my heart sank a little, knowing that I couldn’t head over to her place for a few minutes to tell her about my horrible date.

  I walked inside, paying and thanking the babysitter before walking her to the front door. Maddie had been asleep for about an hour by then, and I didn’t want to wake her by saying good night.

  As I changed into sweats, kicking my dark jeans into the laundry hamper, it dawned on me. All these thoughts about Kate didn’t have to do with Maddie. Not completely, at least.

  It was me. I was the one who needed another person around, someone who could fill in the gaps I struggled with in my life, who was there at the end of the day to support me, who was funny and brilliant and sexy as hell, a true partner.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, burying my face in my palms and rubbing my eyes. The only problem with these newfound feelings was that Kate didn’t want anything to do with them. She made it perfectly clear, right from the beginning, that she wasn’t looking for anything serious, especially with someone who had a kid. Catching feelings, she called it.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  For as much as I wished Kate wanted something more than just being fuck buddies, I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who agreed to casual sex and then freaked out after a few hot-and-heavy nights. We’d agreed this would be nothing serious. I had to honor that arrangement.

  But I had to do something about these feelings. And fast.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kate

  “Dirty martini, please,” I shouted to the bartender over the noise of the crowd.

>   It was a Wednesday night, and I’d been sent to an album release party for an up-and-coming singer. According to my editor, there would be major gossip to pick up at the party, but so far all I’d done was eat too many fried goat-cheese balls and listen to bad pop music for an hour. The singer was only eighteen, and I’d already had to dodge groups of drunk teenagers on more than one occasion. I decided a drink was necessary to get me through the rest of the night.

  I sipped my martini as I walked through the party. My mind wandered to Hunter, and I wondered what he was doing. The last we’d spoken, he’d been getting ready for a date with that bitch from Maddie’s school.

  Okay, she wasn’t a bitch. But I hated the thought of him out with her. And while I was dying to know how it had gone, I wasn’t about to ask Hunter about it. I refused to seem like a needy girlfriend, especially because we weren’t dating, and even more so because I was the one who’d encouraged him to go on the date in the first place.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” a voice said as I turned around. It was Andy, a fellow columnist.

  I winced at the greeting. We’d hooked up a few times, usually after drinking too much at these events. He was attractive and fun to hang out with, but I hated when he called me pet names.

  “Hey, Andy.” I smiled as he pulled me in for a hug.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He grinned, his gaze lingering on my cleavage for a moment too long. “You look great.”

  We filled each other in on our lives after Andy bought us another round of martinis. Usually, I was happy to see him—he was fun and easy to be around—but tonight our conversation felt stale. I wasn’t in the mood to flirt with him, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to go home with him. In fact, the more I talked to Andy, the more I missed Hunter.

  Shit. I was really in deep.

  I told Andy I had to use the restroom, but really, I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes.