Hating Tate - A friends to lovers romance.

by Raquel Belle

  “Hello, baby mama. What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”

  “I came to see if you can go to dinner with me and the kids tonight?”

  “You mean pay for dinner with you and the kids?” he jokes.

  “Well, if you insist,” I say. “Seriously, though. It’s their last day of summer camp, and I have some really fun news to share with all of you.”

  “If you say we’re having twins, I think I won’t be able to eat,” he says, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “No, we’re not having twins,” I say. “Are you in?”

  “I’m in,” he says. “Let me clean up, and we can go pick them up together.”

  We pick up the kids about an hour later, and they babble happily in the back seat of Rob’s car, telling him about their last day at summer camp. They tie-dyed t-shirts and got to dunk their counselors in a real dunk tank. Amy says she missed most of her throws but Eric, ever the baseball player, made several of his. Rob muses that maybe he’s being underutilized in the outfield, and Eric says he agrees, and he’s going to try to get a pitcher spot next season and will Rob help him work on his throw.

  The kids talk about school starting on Monday. They like both of their teachers and are excited to see their friends. Rob asks if they will still go to the community center after school, and they look to me for confirmation. I say yes, but I can see the worry in Rob’s eyes when I give the answer. This issue of Tate still hangs between us, a barrier we haven’t yet been able to overcome.

  We eat at a chain Italian restaurant, which the kids are thrilled about. After we order, I announce my new job. The kids and Rob all cheer, especially when I tell them I’ll be making much more than I made before.

  “This calls for dessert,” Rob says, grabbing the waitress’ attention and asking her to bring the biggest, chocolate-iest dessert they make. We gorge ourselves before going to get my car from campus.

  “Can we have a movie tonight, Mom?” Eric asks as we head into the house a little while later.

  “Sure,” I say. “You both have to pick together though. No arguing.”

  Once we get them going with their movie, Rob and I walk the dog together.

  “I’m really happy for you, Hope,” he says. “Seriously.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “There’s more on your mind, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

  I nod. “I saw a therapist. It was probably way overdue, and I’ll go back a few more times for sure. But we talked about Alex, and she recommended I call him. Well, ordered it, actually. Called it homework.”

  “Oh? And did you do it?”

  “I did. It was … good. Actually, really good.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says.

  “Well, it was tense at times, of course. I mean, I guess that’s to be expected.”

  “Sure,” Rob says.

  “He has a wife and a new baby. The wife knows about us. Encouraged him to try to get visitation rights. He misses the kids, and I think he’s genuinely regretful that he didn’t fight for time with them.”

  “Do you believe he’s changed?” Rob asks.

  “I believe he wants to, that he’s trying,” I say. “He says he’s been doing therapy, too. He admitted to hurting me. Actually, he admitted to being abusive toward me.”

  “That’s big of him,” Rob says. He sounds shocked.

  “It was cathartic for both of us to hear it out loud, to say it out loud. I don’t think he’s under some illusion that it will absolve him totally, but it did feel kind of cleansing. At least for me.”

  “Are you willing to let him see the kids if he goes that route?”

  “I think so. They deserve to know him and make their own choices about what kind of relationship they’ll have with him moving forward.”

  “I don’t know if I can be around him,” Rob says.

  “You don’t have to be, if you don’t want to. Though I will say that he was glad I have had you all these years. He didn’t sound jealous or resentful about it. I think he really wants to try to make things right, as much as possible.”

  “Will you let him?”

  “If the kids want it, I’m willing to try,” I say. “I have to let go of this bitterness. I have to, for myself and for you. Calling him, talking to him … it gave me a surprising amount of closure. I mean, we’re not going to be best friends or anything, but …”

  Rob, to his credit, doesn’t frown or balk. He just listens and asks a few more questions and eventually wants to know where Alex lives, and how often he’ll see the kids.

  “He’s about two hours away, so maybe every other weekend? I don’t know. We have to work it out, and he’s going to talk to his wife to see what works for her. And he’s offering child support, which is also pretty great.”

  “It does sound like he’s done some soul-searching, then,” Rob says. “But why didn’t he reach out to you? Why did it take so long?”

  I shrug. “I think he was ashamed and angry. It sounds like he talked about a lot of this with his current wife and that she’s helped him to get into a better place with things. I don’t need to know why he never reached out. Frankly, he was probably afraid I wouldn’t be open to the conversation.”

  “I guess that all makes sense,” Rob mutters.

  “Hey,” I say, reaching out to put my palm on the side of his face. He meets my eyes. “Alex is their biological father, but they also need a full-time dad. And only one person I know even comes close to fitting that bill.”

  Rob’s eyes go slightly wider, and he grins. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  My eyes well with tears as I nod, not trusting my voice right now. Rob pulls me into a fierce hug, which is interrupted by the dog jumping on us both.

  Laughing, I say, “Rob Duncan, I love you so much. I’ve been such an idiot, holding you at arm’s length for so long. I think I’ve always loved you, but I was too afraid to admit it. You’re a good man. Not a perfect man, but I’m not a perfect woman. We’ve wasted so much time, and I want to stop wasting time right now.”

  “Me too,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.

  We head back to the house, hand-in-hand, and finish watching the movie with the kids. After that, we play a board game, and the sexual tension between us grows with each minute. We have a deal to seal.

  As soon as we’re sure the kids are asleep, we head to my bedroom. Rob takes his time undressing me. I’m still in the suit I wore for my interview, so he slips the jacket from my shoulders, down my arms, and lets it fall to the floor. Each button of my white shirt is excruciating, but eventually, it falls open, revealing my white, lace bra and the slight swell of my belly as it strains against the fabric of my skirt. The skirt gets unzipped and falls to the pile of discarded clothes, leaving me in just my bra and panties.

  Rob carefully undoes my braid, letting my curly hair be unbound and unkempt as it falls in a poof around my shoulders.

  “You are so beautiful,” he says. It’s reverent, the way he says it, his fingers trailing lightly along my neck, across my clavicle, down my side. I shiver at the contact, closing my eyes as desire pools between my legs.

  He unhooks my bra from the front and pushes it, too, from my shoulders. My small breasts jut, the nipples hardening in the cooler air. Finally, he pushes my panties to the floor as well, helping me step out of them, pushing my legs wide as he kisses the insides of my calves, my thighs, and my belly. Finally, finally, he focuses that talented mouth right where I want it most. I sigh, sagging against him, my hands in his hair as he tongues my clit, his teeth grazing it every so often as it grows, engorged and ready to explode.

  When he adds his fingers, I can hardly hold myself up, it feels so good. One finger, then two, then three to stretch me wide as my hips move against the twin thrusts of his tongue and his fingers.

  He works me until I’m frenzied, moaning and writhing, throwing my head back in ecstasy as orgasm rocks my body. I feel the tingle all the way
up into my breasts as it happens, and Rob moans against my cunt, clearly enjoying the experience.

  In fact, he’s smug and grinning as he backs away, leading me to sit on the bed before I fall over. I smack him on the arm playfully and help him undo his jeans, as he pulls his shirt over his head. His undressing is not as thorough by a long shot. It’s hasty and messy and quick, and the moment his cock springs free from his underwear, my mouth is around it. I hold him at the base and work that huge tool as it swells even further under my attentions. I lick and suck and take him root-to-tip down my throat.

  “Stop,” he finally says, his voice hoarse. “Stop or this will be over before it started.”

  I giggle and pull away, pushing back to lay on the bed, legs wide, an invitation. Rob kisses my breasts eagerly as his fingers work my pussy once more. When he’s sure I’m good and ready, he pushes inside, his cock stretching me in a glorious way. With one arm, he braces himself above me. With the other, he gathers my hands above my head, pinning them there. He thrusts in and out, watching my breasts bounce and my face contort with pleasure. I come again and again for him, my body remembering just why we fit so very well together.

  Finally, he lets go of my hands, and I grip his back, clinging to him as he picks up the pace. It’s fast and hard and frenetic, and I come again as he cries out his pleasure, spilling into me.

  He collapses on top of me and I rub his back, feeling his cock twitch with aftershocks inside of me.

  “If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d say I just got you pregnant,” he jokes against my neck.

  “Yup,” is all I can manage to articulate.

  We stay there, naked, sweaty, and tangled in each other’s limbs, the words I love you are the last thing we manage to say before we are swept away by sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Not gonna lie—I feel very nervous about today’s pickup at the community center.

  I was supposed to talk to Tate, to tell him that Rob and I are together now, and that any relationship between Tate and I is now reduced to one of friendly acquaintance.

  I never made that call. Yes, I’m a big coward. No, I’m not proud of it.

  Now it’s the first day of school. I’ve had a great first day at my new job, and I’m excited to pick up the kids on time for once. But there is still Tate McCullough to deal with.

  As I step inside the after-school room, the kids jump up immediately, running to hug me, and asking about my day. I tell them to get their things, and we’ll talk in the car, hoping to avoid Tate completely. He’s got his back turned as he helps another kid with his homework.

  We gather backpacks, and homework folders, and water bottles and by the time we’re ready to go, I’m able to breathe again, thinking maybe I’ve avoided this conversation for another day. But no. Just as we step out of the door, Tate’s voice calls my name.

  I sigh, give the kids the keys, and tell them to wait in the car. They obey, and I square my shoulders before turning around.

  “I’m shocked to see you on time,” Tate says.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I say.

  He lifts one, broad shoulder. “You look good. Glowing.”

  I feel my cheeks heat as I blush. “Well, pregnancy is good for the hair and skin, I hear.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m really good, actually,” I say. “I got a great, new job. I owe it to you for encouraging me to apply.”

  “That’s awesome,” he says, giving a smile that seems genuine but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He knows what I’m going to say. I’m sure of it.

  “Tate,” I say, “I’m sorry I pulled you into this crazy life of mine. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching and I … well, Rob and I are …”

  “Together,” he says.

  I nod. “I love him.”

  “I know,” he says. “I knew that from the beginning.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  He laughs and makes a face. “You’re in love. Why would you be sorry? That guy has loved you for a long time. He’ll take good care of you. I’m happy for you both.”

  I can’t keep the shock from my face. “Really? That seems very diplomatic and sportsmanlike after seeing you two pummel each other in the hospital.”

  “Yeah,” he says with a humorless laugh. “Not my finest hour. But to be fair, he threw the first punch. And the second.”

  “He did,” I say.

  “He’s scrappy … I’ll give him that.”

  This time I laugh a little. “You’re not angry?”

  “How can I be angry when I was the one who never belonged in the equation. I was a means to an end, a way to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. Right? You ended up just where you should have.”

  “I didn’t … I wasn’t using you. I grew to care about you,” I say. “I consider you a friend.”

  “I believe that, but in the beginning …”

  “In the beginning I hated you and wanted you and I was confused. And I let it go too far, but hating you helped me get here, to realizing how much I love Rob. I’m just sorry if I hurt you. Seriously.”

  “I know,” he says, kind of sadly. “I’m sorry, too. I wish I could have had a real chance because I think you are amazing. Your kids are amazing, and I think I could have been good to you.”

  “You’ll find someone,” I say. “I know it.”

  “Meh,” he says with a shrug. “Who knows. I guess I should thank you, though.”

  “Why?”

  “After losing my daughter and my wife and being in and out of war zones, I wasn’t sure if I was damaged. Too damaged, you know?”

  “A year ago, I might have thought you were.”

  “But now you don’t?”

  “No,” I say, reaching out and putting a hand on his broad chest. “You are not damaged. You’re human. And you’re smart and attractive, and I know there is someone out there who can make you happy.”

  I stand on my tip-toes and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.

  ***

  A few weeks later, I’ve suddenly popped out with a real, pregnant belly. As I make dinner, the kids both comment on how it suddenly appeared overnight. They’re both excited about the new baby, especially since they have now officially met their half-sibling, Madison, Alex’s baby girl with his wife, Lisa.

  We drove to a mid-point between our two homes and all had a sit-down meal together. Eric acted like nothing had happened. Amy seemed unsure at first, but eventually opened up a bit over the course of the meal. By the end, the kids were holding the baby and agreeing that they might like to spend a weekend, here and there, at Alex’s house.

  It was all very odd, at first. It was strange seeing him. He looked like a stranger, older, a tiny bit of grey hair at his temples. But he seemed calmer, kinder, and had a glimmer of love that showed through every time he looked at his wife and baby. And his wife, by the way, was beautiful, and kind, and zen. She’s a yoga instructor, and I could certainly tell from her willowy grace and calm sense of self.

  I left feeling like things were going to be just fine.

  Rob comes over just as I’m plating dinner, so we all eat together. However, as soon as we finish, things go quiet. Oddly quiet, and the kids are smirking like the cats that ate the canary.

  I eye them all, wondering what’s going on. Rob says, “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”

  My face must be a mask of distrust, but I rise and let him take my hand, leading me out through the living room, through the front door, and down the front steps to the yard. Of course, whatever he has planned is ruined the minute the dog gets out, racing around the neighborhood as the kids scream and giggle and run after him.

  I just watch the whole thing, bewildered, until the three of them finally get the dog on the leash. The kids were probably supposed to stay inside but now they’re out here and so is the crazy dog. Poor Rob just looks defeated as he pulls a real-estate sign out of his car and plants it in the front yard.
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  My eyes go wide. “You put the house up for sale?”

  “Well, you did. Tomorrow. When you go in and sign all the paperwork.”

  “That’s … presumptuous,” I say.

  Rob holds up two hands in peace. “Hear me out. You have a great, new job, I know. But this is a three-bedroom house. Not really big enough for everyone.”

  “It will be fine,” I say. “We’re not living in your house.”

  “I know,” he says. “I know. Which is why I put mine on the market today, too. And before you balk at us living together, know that I intend to live in the same house with my partner and children.”

  I melt a little at his resolve, at the thing he’s asking of me. He wants us to be a real family, to make a real commitment. But he’s not done, apparently, because he falls to one knee in front of me, then.

  “Also,” he says, “I think we have wasted too much time. We could have been so good together for so long. And I look forward to what we can do from here forward, so I’d like to ask you to join me as my partner, my wife, and my lover forever. Will you marry me, Hope?”

  He pulls a ring box from his pocket and opens it. Inside is a gorgeous, white-gold ring with a single, emerald-cut diamond. “I want to sell these houses and find a place we can share together. Where we can make new memories. A home of our own, just for us. We can start fresh. What do you say? Be my wife?”

  I’m so overcome with emotion that I can hardly find air to breathe, let alone words to speak. This is Rob, my best friend since college. The father of my baby. The person who has always, always been there for me.

  I nod, weeping, and he jumps up to pull me into an embrace. The kids cheer and dance, and the dog gets free again, causing them to run off, screaming, down the street to try to catch him again.

  “Are you sure you want all this?” I ask, sniffling and laughing at the same time.

  “There is nothing I want more,” he says, laughing. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and plants a kiss on the top of my head, as we watch the comedy of two children trying to trick a big lab into stopping his fun and games long enough for them to grab the leash that trails like a happy kite behind him, as he runs through the neighborhood.