Page 31 of My Best Friend's Dad

I don’t know what we’re doing.

But I know what I want to be doing.

Though I can’t be doing any of it.

So friend-slash-professional-zoning undergoing Mission Experience Life it is.

“Sure.” Her smile is far too ready and far too captivating. I don’t need to go down on my ass for a second time tonight. “Sounds good.” Her lips pull back further into a grin that exposes a flash of her white teeth. There’s the tiniest piece of lettuce stuck between her front two teeth.

I like that.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On. With. My. Brain?

Before I can do or say anything silly—or sillier?—I call for a cab. After, I ball up my trash from the sandwich into my hand and hold on to it. We wait in silence.

They say silence can be profound.

But all I feel is a profound sense of excitement and dread that I agreed to do this again when I shouldn’t have even allowed myself a first time.

Chapter eight

Bellatrix

Adebriefing call with Mika the next day is inevitable. She calls me on her lunch break. I can take mine anytime since my days are often spent out of the office, and I have flexible hours.

Two seconds after she says hi, she immediately gets right down to it. “When are you seeing him again?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to get my stomach all aflutter again. It’s been that way since my phone dinged late last night, giving me access to calendar sharing.

Rowleigh either doesn’t give a shit about his privacy, or he trusts me.

I know he gives a shit.

His Sunday happened to be free, but only because he probably doesn’t schedule anything on purpose so he can spend the day catching up. I work every day of the week, even when I’m not scheduled, and I can’t imagine it’s any different for him.

“Sunday afternoon.”

“Ahh, that’s only a few days!” Mika sucks in an excited breath that sounds like a vortex right in my ear. “Yes, queen! Slay, slay, slay.”

“I don’t know if I slayed the first time. It was a bit of a disaster.”

I’m sitting on a bench outside a huge red barn twenty minutes from Providence. The place opened up a few weeks ago for bookings, but I would never recommend anything to my clients without checking it out first. It comes complete with a campground and golf course attached. It’s got the perfect country feel, not more than twenty minutes from the city.

“Girl, you ate on that first date,” Mika insists.

I dig the toe of my patent leather shiny black boots into the gravel before I quickly realize that gravel and shine are a bad mix. “I did. The most delicious sandwich. And it wasn’t a date.”

“It was totally a date.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be against popular jargon?” I shade my eyes and look over at the golf course. Since it just opened, the place is packed. There are golf carts driving all over the green and people pulling their clubs along. I keep a close watch so I can duck if anyone lobs a ball over here, though it would be in the wrong direction. “I thought the point of counterculture was to not use the most obnoxious language,” I sass.

“I can’t help it. I’ve been gaming too hard lately. When I’m on there, it’s all I hear.”

I love my books, and Mika loves gaming. We’re just two nerds at heart. I think that’s what makes our friendship work so well.

“Fair enough, but it’s not a date. There’s no seduction involved except for the seduction of life.”

“Come again?”