“Of course.” I sit up and reach over, giving her hand a squeeze. “I always know I can talk to you. But…”
“But what?” she urges when I trail off.
But I want to fuck your best friend.
I want to make her pregnant.
I want to claim her for the rest of our lives.
It hardly seems like the best thing to say.
“But I think you should focus on your studies. You’re going to be the best damn nurse in the world, little gnat.”
“Dad.” She waves her finger at me, trying to look stern even as a smile tugs at her lips. “You know I can tell when you’re complimenting me just to distract me, right?”
I smirk. “You never used to be able to.”
“Well, I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I know that. But it still works.”
She shakes her head. “I can tell I’m not going to get anywhere. But I’m here if you want to talk. Always.”
“I know.” I give her hand another squeeze. “And the same goes for you. You know that.”
She squeezes my hand back. “I know. Let me fix that coffee since you’ve taken a vow of silence or something.”
“Hey, ask me about fighting and I’ll talk your head off.”
She walks over to the door. “Yeah, because I’m training to be a nurse because I want to learn how to inflict pain.”
I chuckle and call after her, “Less of the sarcasm, young lady.”
“In your dreams, old man.”
I laugh at her joke. We’ve always had the ability to banter with each other.
But today the words old man hammer into me.
Kelly is my daughter’s age, their birthdays are within a few months of each other if memory serves…
Not that my memory seems the most reliable since I forgot what her best friend even looks like.
But Kelly said she doesn’t care about the age gap. And neither do I.
If anything, it makes me want her more.
Natalie brings the coffee out a few minutes later, setting mine down on the table. “Dad, I’m going to prep my notes for the lecture. Do you mind if I use your study?”
“Of course not.” I grin at her. “Just don’t touch my gym or there’ll be problems.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I know never to touch your sanctuary.”
I chuckle. “I’m only kidding. This place is mine as much as it is yours. Even if you’ve rented your own place, paid with the cash you earned… after I said I’d sort it out for you. I’m proud of you, little gnat.”
Goddamn, is this guilt making me overly sentimental?
She laughs awkwardly. “I’m proud of you too, Dad. Now stop being cheesy and drink your coffee.”
I snap off a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She laughs as she walks away. I watch her walk through the apartment, disappearing down the hallway, and then I take out my cell phone and call Russ. He answers after a couple of rings.
“Hey, bro. What’s up?”
“Can you talk?”
I can hear kids laughing in the background, lasers shooting, as his wife yells at his children to slow down. “Yeah, hang on. The kids have got these new blasters. They’re going hog wild.”
I wait until he walks to a quieter part of the house.
“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing your family time, man.”
“Pfft, giving me a break is more like it.”
We both laugh because we know it’s a joke. Russ values his family above all else. It’s one of the things I respect most about him, even if I’ve never been able to find a similar commitment for myself…
Until now, that is.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I went to that thing. That photography session.”
“No shit? That’s awesome. How did it go?”
I pause, glancing behind me at the apartment to make sure Natalie’s nowhere nearby. It makes me feel sneaky and I don’t like it.
“Good and bad, I guess you could say.”
“Stop feinting and hit me with it.”
I smirk at the reference. It’s a saying one of our coaches used to throw at us when we were beating around the bush. Telling me to tell him the damn truth without umming and ahhing.
So I do. From start to finish.
I tell him about going to the photoshoot and then falling like a damn crashing meteor for the woman I thought was Samantha, and then learning she was my daughter’s best friend. Even as I tell Russ, I can hear how insane and unlikely it sounds.
There’s a part of me that whispers fate, that whispers this was meant to happen because it’s just so damn unlikely.
What are the chances I’d run into Kelly of all the possible women?
And yet I have to beat that part of me down because I know it makes no damn sense. It’s not the sort of thing I’ve ever allowed myself to believe in, but I can’t stop the instinct from rising inside of me, from roaring at me it must be true, it must mean something.