and starts to fuss. “He must need a diaper change. He’s only ever fussy when he’s hungry or needs changed. He’s got a full belly.” I don’t know why I tell her that.
“How is the little guy?” she asks, and I can tell she genuinely wants to know.
“Good. We’re taking it one day at a time. I need to change him, I just . . . don’t want to hang up.” I’m a fucking wreck with this girl. Never in my life have those words fallen from my lips. She’s got me waxing poetic and shit.
“He needs his daddy,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be home all night . . . I mean, if you want to talk some more.”
Yes! “Yeah, let me get him changed and settled. I have to get his bag ready for tomorrow, but I’d like that. To call later.”
“Give him a kiss goodnight from me.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon.” I hang up. “Little man, let’s get you changed,” I tell my son.
By the time I give Knox a bath, pack his bag for tomorrow, throw in a load of laundry, load the dishwasher, and pick up the living room, it’s time for another bottle and to get the little guy to bed. It’s after ten by the time he falls asleep. I kiss his little cheek. “That’s one from Kendall,” I kiss his other cheek. “That’s one from Daddy. Love you, little man.” I get him settled, turn on the monitor, and slowly creep out of his room before rushing down the hall to mine, ripping off my clothes and hop into the shower. After the quickest shower in the history of showers, I’m crawling into bed and reaching for my phone that’s been charging on the nightstand. It’s ten fifteen. I hesitate, not wanting to wake her, but I told her I would call.
The thought of her sleepy voice answering has me tapping her name and placing the phone next to me ear.
“Hey,” her groggy voice greets me.
Just as I imagined it would sound. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t, but another ten minutes and you might have.” She laughs. “Everything okay?”
She’s so damn sweet. Not just the taste of her skin—the little I’ve had the pleasure of sampling, anyway—but her heart. She truly cares. She’s so different from the girls I’ve dated in the past.
She’s the first I’ve pursued like this. Yes, I’m pursuing her. I can admit that much. I want what I told the guys to be true. I want her to be mine.
“Yeah, just a lot to do. Bath time, packing for tomorrow, laundry, dishwasher, bedtime bottle.” I ramble on about what all I’ve done since I last talked to her.
“Babies are a lot of work.”
“Yeah, they are. So, how was the rest of your night?” I change the subject, not wanting to be that guy, the one who whines and gets the girl. I want to know about her—everything there is to know.
“Good. I just chilled, read a book.”
“You read too? Reagan seems to always have a book in her hand.”
“I do. I love it.”
“What else do you do? How do you spend your free time?”
“You don’t really want to hear how boring my life is.”
“I do. I want to know everything about you.” Shit! My mouth just keeps spewing words at her. She’s going to think I’m a stalker.
“Dawn and I are roommates. We work together, so we do a lot together. Shopping mostly, plus she reads too, so we talk about our book boyfriends.”
Fictional, but I don’t like it. “What else?”
“We spend a lot of time at my parents’ place. I moved back six months ago, and Dawn came with me. I’ve been gone since I left for college, so it’s nice to be able to spend time with them. I guess I’m trying to catch up on all the time we lost.”
“Sounds like you’re close to them?”
“Yeah, I missed them when I was gone. It made the decision to move back home even easier.”
“What are you leaving out?”
“Nothing really, I was just ready for a change.”
I won’t push her to tell me. Not yet. I need to learn more about her, let her see that I’m not rebounding. I’m devastated that Melissa lost her life, and heartbroken that my son will never know his mother, but I’m not rebounding from her.
“So, other than these book boyfriends you speak of, do I have any other competition?” Might as well