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I stifled a laugh at the boy’s earnest expression. “Oh, the only package I’m thinking about is the one I’m going to kick if it doesn’t get out of my apartment and away from my kid,” I said in a pleasant enough tone as to not alarm Wolfie, but I stared at the stranger at the table with menace. The man hurriedly slid from his chair and grabbed the beat-up briefcase he’d had sitting on the table.
“I’m sorry, I-I-I didn’t know,” the man stuttered.
“Yet, you still saw fit to sit down with my kid alone?” I said, moving towards him with determined strides.
The man backed toward the door and scrambled to open it for a quicker getaway. “I was only—” he started, but I slammed the door in his face.
Locking the deadbolt, Wolfgang spoke up behind me, “Uncle Adam, was that a bad guy?”
I looked down into his wide eyes. “Probably not, but we do need to have a little talk about safety.” I proceeded to explain to him how he needed to be careful here and always get me to answer the door. I’d taken other opportunities as we’d been out and about that day to let him know how to look out for himself. And it didn’t occur to me until much later that I’d referred to him as “my kid” to the salesman. Yet, the phrase seemed natural enough. I mean, he was my responsibility and all, but even I knew that reasoning was weak. As the days passed, it seemed increasingly strange to think of anyone else taking care of Wolfgang. It’d only been a few days, and already, I couldn’t imagine life without him.
I’d been trying to quell those thoughts as I hurried to the door and looked through the peephole. What met my eyes was much more welcome than any salesman, but it was definitely the most dangerous person I could think about allowing into my apartment.
I swung the door open. “Well, good morning, sunshine,” I said boisterously, partly because I knew it would annoy her, and partly because I really did feel that excited to see Reagan standing on my doorstep. Though, considering that she was in her running gear, which consisted of a matching tank top and yoga pants with some sort of marbled purple print clinging to her curves, my excitement ran the gamut.
She looked at me wearily, like she was already annoyed, and truthfully, that just excited me more. Maybe I hadn’t screwed up everything by almost kissing her back in my office a few days before. She had the same beleaguered expression that she’d seemed to have at the ready for me ever since we’d met, and a wash of relief went through me at us seemingly returning to our status quo.
Chapter nine
Adam
"You said you didn't mind sweaty, so I'm going to put you to the test," she said with an arched eyebrow.
I looked her over carefully, a smile tugging at my lips. "You should know by now I always pass all my tests, Miss Reagan," I said in a low voice and was delighted with how her cheeks flushed.
"Rea!" Wolfgang sang out behind me, nearly knocking me over in his rush to greet our guest. I watched him as he ran up to throw his arms around Reagan. Even though Reagan hadn't physically been here the last few days, she still managed to foster a relationship with Wolfie by calling him nightly. I knew it was her way of checking up on him and making sure I wasn't fucking things up too much, but I didn't let that annoy me too much because the truth was: I needed the help. Wolfgang seemed comfortable with her, so maybe he would tell her things that she could report back to me with…things I needed to know.
I really did need to get a hold of myself. I'd gone from being a confirmed bachelor to now not only being in charge of a six-year-old kid but also having warm, fuzzy thoughts about my best friend's ex-girlfriend.
First of all, I didn't do warm and fuzzy…and I certainly shouldn't be doing them with Reagan, of all people. A one-night stand was one thing, but pursuing anything more with her would be against the bro code and, more importantly, against my own personal code. I didn't do relationships, even as I kept falling into these little mind traps of wanting to convince Reagan otherwise. How could I think about doing that when I wasn't even fully convinced myself?
I blamed the extreme nature of the situation that we all found ourselves in. It had to make for emotions that weren't normally characteristic of a person.
"How's my Wolfie?" Reagan said, hugging the little boy back.
He was giggling when he pulled back from her. "I'm fine, but," he started, his nose wrinkling, "Aunt Rea, you kind of smell."
I bit back a laugh as Reagan colored furiously. She looked up at me, shooting daggers with her eyes. "I told you."
"Ah, come on, now. He just means you smell like nature. There's nothing wrong with that. All right, you two, enough of the displays of affection out in the hallway. Come on in," I told them, herding them both back inside the apartment.
"Reagan here is going to go back to school shopping with us today," I announced to Wolfie.
"Yes, but only after I stop by my apartment and clean off really quick," she said pointedly at me.
I rolled my eyes. "If you insist, dear," I teased her.
She looked at me oddly, then quickly returned her attention to Wolfie. "Are you excited about tomorrow? I used to love school. In fact, if I could get paid to go to school, I'd probably do it for the rest of my life."
"Really? That's weird, Aunt Reagan," he informed her.
"What? What's so weird about that? You're going to get to play with other kids and learn new things. I'm familiar with the school you're going to, and it has an awesome playground. And I hear," she said, dropping her voice conspiratorially, "that the Pokémon trade game at that playground is top-tier."
His eyes widened, but she quickly added. "But you didn't hear that from me, so don't go spreading that around," she warned playfully.
She looked around the apartment. "I hope I'm not interrupting…"
"We were just watching some cartoons and eating breakfast," I informed her, watching the expressions playing over her features carefully. I was familiar with that look. Usually, it meant she was rounding up an argument. I saw it enough when she was dating Brian. I supposed that was what made her such a good lawyer. Her eyes lingered on the box of sugar puffs, and I could almost follow her exact train of thought as those eyes then darted over to the stack of pizza boxes. She looked at me pointedly then.
