AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sorry, kiddo, not enough tickets for all of us,” Tom says. “Do you have your phone?”
“Yes, and it’s charged.”
He reaches for his wallet and hands her some bills. “Stay together and be safe.” He hugs and kisses both girls. “Text me when you get there and when you head home. Have a good time.”
“We will,” Skyler says, skipping out the door.
“Bye, Dad!” Maya calls, banging the screen door on her way out.
After Parker’s minivan pulls away, Tom turns to me. “Well, I guess it’s just us. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t care. Music? Movie? Whatever.”
He nods before holding out his hand. “Want to go sit on the couch and listen to music?”
I take his outstretched hand, and he grins. “Nicely done.”
“You make it easy,” I admit.
“How so?”
“I never feel pressured with you.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Is Blake pressuring you?”
“No,” I say hastily. “I pressure myself. To be normal.”
He frowns. “You are normal.”
I laugh. “I’m a lot of things, but normal will never be one of them.”
“Just because some women are more comfortable being physically expressive doesn’t mean you’re not normal. And it’s not like you don’t have a damn good reason for being cautious.” Ferocity flickers briefly across his face. “If Blake’s pressuring you –”
“He’s not. I promise,” I insist.
I trail behind him to the living room. He releases my hand at the couch and picks up a remote. He’s scrolling through streaming music services when there’s a knock at the door. “Pick something,” he says, passing me the remote. I scan playlists, selecting one with an assortment of R&B, soul, and contemporary pop.
“No Eminem tonight?” he teases as he carries the food to the kitchen.
I laugh. He knows Eminem is my go-to for sour moods. I follow him, sniffing the delightful smells wafting from the takeout bag. “Who needs Eminem when there’s pasta and garlic bread?”
The food is amazing. I eat until I’m full and on my third glass of wine, warm and relaxed. I kick off my shoes and snuggle deeper into the sofa. Tom chuckles. “Comfy?”
“Very.”
He clears our plates, and I hear splashing as he runs water over them. A familiar song starts playing. I turn up the volume and jump up. Tom returns to find me rolling my hips to the music.
His mouth quirks up in a smile. “Feeling the wine?”
I just grin and keep dancing. He pulls the coffee table aside, opening up the center of the room. I raise an eyebrow. “Worried I’ll lose my balance?”
“Just giving you room.”
“Not going to dance with me?”
“I prefer slow dancing.” He sits on the arm of a recliner, watching in amusement.
“Please,” I scoff. “Slow dancing is just hugging and swaying. Anybody can do that.”
