The Path To Us: A Single Parent Romance

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  “Are you tired?”

  “Yes, but not the way you’re thinking.”

  “Staying here tonight?”

  “Told Zoey I would. That okay with you?” His eyes are still closed and he squeezes my hand again.

  “Of course. I consider the guest room pretty much yours, anyway.”

  He grunts and slowly rolls his head in my direction, opening his eyes. “It’s mine, huh?”

  “Whenever you need a place to stay, it’s yours.”

  We stand up, neither of us letting go of each other. Still holding one hand, he leans in close and runs the back of his fingers down my cheek. My breath catches and I think he’s going to kiss me, his face slowly moving inches closer to mine. I tip my face up in the universal sign of ‘kiss me, you fool!’ but his lips make a detour and rather than kissing my mouth, he brushes a soft kiss against my temple. I want to stomp my foot and cry out that he can’t be serious.

  “Time to go to sleep,” he mumbles so close that it causes a shiver to roll down my spine.

  When he lets go of my hand, I feel the loss immediately. I want to reach over and grapple for his hand, holding it tightly so he doesn’t feel the need to take it away from me again, pulling him against me so our bodies are pressed to one another’s. I want him to want me the same as I want him.

  I want to get back to last night where we stared at each other with so much need and lust pulsing between us. I want to follow him into the bedroom, or him follow me into mine, and spend hours getting to know each other in an entirely new way.

  I want all that even knowing I can’t have it.

  Because… I was his brother’s first.

  Last night, it felt like we were getting close to crossing a line and this morning it was a hundred different kinds of awkward. Actually, it didn’t feel like we were getting close. We did get close to crossing a line. So much that I had to splash water on my face while we were watching that uber sexy show about the highlanders. I mean, it’s a good show, for sure. But the wedding night sex? Well, not the first time, but the second — it was so hot it had me practically ready to dry hump Beau’s leg.

  Thinking back to last night, I can’t help but be embarrassed. Not only did I stare at his mouth for long enough to memorize it, I also lunged at him when he told me he was becoming a partner for the business. Lunge worthy? Not really. It was more because of the aftershocks of being so damn horny and turned on. Sure, it could be because of the show, but I know the truth of it. It’s all Beau. It always has been, and it always will be.

  We part ways and I want to scream at the unfairness of it. I go through my bedroom routine quickly and now as I lie in my bed, one leg out and only a sheet covering me, I can’t stop myself from thinking about the fact that he’s just a few doors away. Wishing, hoping, wanting so desperately for him to be in this bed with me to quell some of this need.

  What kind of mother am I, to wish to be having sex with my daughter’s uncle while she’s sleeping under the same roof? An awful one, that’s what.

  I kick my legs then get up out of bed, feeling too jumpy to lie down. I’m so tired of wanting him and it not being returned. It’s exhausting.

  For years, I’ve thought of being with Beau in ways that were nowhere near friendly, but lately I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Maybe it’s how much he’s been around and all the time we’ve been spending together, or maybe it’s watching him with Zoey. I can’t help but feel like now is our time to be together. Finally. And in the next second, I realize why that can’t happen.

  “Stop being pathetic,” I whisper angrily at myself, fisting my hand against my stomach.

  When am I going to learn that if Beau wanted me, he’d have had me by now? It’s not as though I’ve been exactly subtle in my attraction to him. Maybe it’s time for me to move on. What happened last night wasn’t anything but the effects of two people watching a program that showed others having sex and the natural reaction to it. Sure, it seemed as though he wanted to kiss me, and possibly do a lot of other things as well, but was it his desire for me in particular?

  I remember very clearly when Beau and I were thirteen and the moment I looked at Beau and realized he wasn’t just my best friend who happened to be a boy. He was a boy. And a very attractive one, at that. But I certainly wasn’t the only one who noticed him and trying to maintain our friendship while the girls in our class were working hard to get on my good side simply to get details on Beau.

  As the years went by, I had to watch as he dated other girls, who made sure to fill me in on as many details of their nights together as they could. When he started dating Lizzy, it only got a thousand times worse. Because I knew what she was telling me was the truth.

  “Gabi was extra chatty during study hall today,” I tell Beau from the passenger seat of his pickup on our way home from school.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks, curious, for sure, but trying to pretend like he doesn’t care. He flips his blinker on as we come to a stop sign and wait for traffic to clear enough for us to turn left.

  “Yup. Had quite the date last night, huh?”

  “That what she said?” He smirks.

  “That was the gist of it. A true lady wouldn’t speak of such things,” I say in a haughty voice.

  He laughs and glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I suppose you’re a lady?”

  “Ha! Hardly. Gabi said you played tonsil hockey for hours.”

  He chuckles. “Tonsil hockey? Really? What are we, sixty?”

  “Okay, so she used a different term,” I say, rolling my eyes. But there’s no way I’ll actually use the words she did. It was crass and words that I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying out loud in front of Beau because I’d blush like crazy. Truth of it is, though, I’m green with jealousy. Whether their stories are just that, stories, or reality, it doesn’t matter. They have all had something that I never have, or will ever have. A relationship that’s deeper than friendship with Beau.

  “I’ll just bet she did,” he mumbles. “Nothing happened between us aside from Gabi hugging me good night. It wasn’t even supposed to be a date. She just wants to tell everyone it was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs and turns into my driveway, putting his pickup in park and turning to face me. “She asked me if I’d help her with her project for Sociology class. She had to learn how to change a flat tire. Turns out, all she wanted was to shove her boobs in my face.”

  I pull a face that he doesn’t miss. “And you didn’t want that?” I ask quietly, nervous for him to answer.

  “From Gabi? No. Now, if you’d shove your boobs in my face, I’d be okay with it,” he teases and I lightly punch his shoulder. He laughs hard and opens his door. “Kidding, kidding.” Of course he is. He’s made it pretty clear that he would never want me that way. If I ever came on to him the way the other girls at school do, he’d probably run away cringing. “Come on. Let’s see if your mom has any pizza rolls. I’m starving.”

  I get out, also, and laugh. “Of course you are. When aren’t you hungry?”

  “Growing boy,” he says, rubbing his stomach.

  Inside, I find a bag of pizza rolls, the combination kind, which, obviously, are the best, and dump them onto a cookie sheet to pop into the oven once it heats up. Our back packs are tossed next to the kitchen table and Beau’s already filled us each a glass of Coke and is diving into a package of Oreos.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, sliding it open to respond to the text I just received from Tyson.

  Tyson: What’s up?

  Me: Nothing. Just getting ready to do homework.

  Tyson: Can I stop by?

  I look up at Beau to see him grinning at his phone, typing away, too. Jealousy burns in my gut because I know that goofy look on his face wouldn’t be caused by him talking to one of his guy friends.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “Lizzy.”

  A pang hits my chest because Lizzy is my
other best friend, but I know she wants him much like most of the other girls. The same as I do, but haven’t admitted it to anyone. She’s been flirting with him for weeks and told me she wants him to ask her out.

  “Oh. What does she want?”

  He looks up from his phone and I swear I see him blush a little.

  “Nothing. Just… nothing.”

  “When did you two start talking?”

  His eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? We’ve been talking for a while now. Friends, remember? Who were you texting?”

  “Tyson.”

  He swallows hard and puts his phone down. “Tyson’s texting you?”

  I press my lips together and nod. I know why Tyson’s texting me. He’s never hid the fact that he wants me for more than a friend. But I don’t feel the same way. Because I couldn’t feel that way toward anyone but Beau. Sure, I’ve dated other guys but Tyson is Beau’s best friend. I just… can’t.

  “Yeah. Why? We’re friends, remember?” I tell him, throwing his words back at him.

  He does a crappy job of hiding his glare. “Do you…” he clears his throat and sits up, “do you like him?”

  I shrug. “Do you like Lizzy?”

  The oven beeps to let me know it’s warmed up and I jump out of my chair so fast, it falls backward. I don’t want him to tell me he likes Lizzy. I can already see it in his eyes and the way he lights up around her. It’s the same way I light up around him, on the inside, of course.

  Once the pizza rolls are in the oven, I sit down at the table and distract myself with homework. My phone alerts me with another text and I slide open my phone.

  Tyson: Where’d you go? Still doing homework?

  I glance up at Beau to see him trying his best not to peek at my phone.

  Me: Yeah.

  Tyson: So, can I? Stop by? I have homework, too, and I promise not to distract you. ;)

  Me: Beau’s here, too. Sure.

  Tyson: Cool. Lizzy’s with me. We’ll be there in a few. Got food? I’m starved.

  I roll my eyes. How do I tell him that I don’t want Lizzy here? If Beau wasn’t here, I wouldn’t mind, but I know exactly what will happen. Having Lizzy and Beau for best friends means I know both of them too well. Lizzy will beg Beau to take her home and he’ll quickly agree. Partly because he’s a nice guy and partly because he likes her more than he wants to admit.

  Then I’ll be left alone with Tyson and he’ll flirt with me like it’s his job.

  My mom will come home from the flower shop and he’ll charm her into letting him stay for dinner because his parents are always gone and he never gets a home cooked meal.

  And then he’ll ask me to go get ice cream because he can’t go a day without a few scoops of cookie dough ice cream. Mom will tell me to go ahead because she loves Tyson and agrees with his ice cream addiction.

  Me: I’ll make some more pizza rolls.

  Tyson: I knew you loved me! Be there in a minute.

  “Lizzy and Tyson are coming over.”

  “Why?”

  I look up at him but keep my face pointed down toward the table. “He asked if he could come, I said sure. He said Lizzy was with him.”

  I stand up and get another bag of pizza rolls out of the freezer and put them on another tray and slide them in under the others. I know they’ll blow through most of them and Lizzy and I will barely get any.

  “What are you doing?”

  I look at him over my shoulder, his arm is draped over the back of the kitchen chair.

  “What does it look like?”

  “I’m not that hungry. Are you?”

  “No, but Tyson’s coming. One tray won’t be enough.”

  “You’re making him food now?” he asks, snark, and possibly a little anger, in his voice.

  What is he talking about and why is he ticked off? There’s no way he can be throwing a fit over the fact that I’m making Tyson some frozen food when I just did the same for him! Both are my friends!

  “Why are you so crabby?”

  He stands up and comes to me. “I’m not.”

  “You are.”

  His hazel eyes transform into two dark orbs “I just didn’t realize that you and Tyson were friends like that.”

  “Friends like what?”

  “Like… that. Like you and I.”

  “I’m not allowed to have other friends? Is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” Beau says, a little angrily. “You’re allowed to have friends, Addy. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “Then say what you mean, Beau! I’m tired of this shit. You act like I’m only allowed to be friends with you.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Okay, you’re right, you don’t. But you do act like I can only have you as a guy friend.”

  “Because I know what all the other guys are thinking! And it’s not okay to think of you that way. All they want from you is sex, Addy. They don’t care about you.”

  Right. Why would a guy think of me as anything more than a place to stick his dick? I grit my teeth together and answer angrily, “Thanks for the reminder that I’m not worth anything more than a sex toy, Beau.”

  “That isn’t what I meant!” he shouts, tugging at his short strands of hair. “It’s just that… Tyson, he doesn’t want you the way —” He trails off and looks away from me.

  “The way, what?”

  “The way a guy should want a girl he likes.”

  “You mean like you want Lizzy?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care. Tyson and I are friends. You and Lizzy are friends. The four of us are friends. Why are you being so weird? I don’t get you. You’re acting… jealous.”

  “Jealous?” he scoffs. “Hardly. What would I have to be jealous for?”

  “Absolutely nothing, apparently.”

  He opens his mouth to respond but we’re interrupted by the doorbell and Tyson and Lizzy barging in without us opening the door for them to enter.

  “Ding dong! The party’s here! Where’s my girl at?”

  “His girl, huh?” he whispers lowly.

  I roll my eyes and whisper back, “It’s Tyson being Tyson. That’s all.”

  “Whatever.”

  Lizzy and Tyson come into the kitchen and Lizzy immediately struts over to Beau, placing a hand on his bicep and doing a little hair flip. He leans into her when she presses her body against his, shamelessly flirting with him. I raise my eyebrows at the pair and Beau looks away quickly.

  Yeah. That’s what I thought. Nice try on the double standard, there, Beau.

  Tyson pulls me against him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, kissing the top of my head. It’s a move he’s made a thousand times before and will probably make a thousand times more. It’s also a move he’s made on every available (and some not available) girls in our school. “Thanks for inviting me over, Addy girl.”

  I scoff. “Invite, huh? Seems as though you’re the one who invited yourself.”

  “Whatever way you want to play it. You know what they say, don’t you?”

  “No, what do they say?” I ask, as I get the pizza rolls out of the oven and pull plates out of the cupboard. Once I’m done, I lean my hip against the counter and cross my arms, waiting for him to reply. I don’t mean to push my boobs up when I do it, but by the way Tyson stares at my chest, I have a feeling I did.

  “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And you offering to make me food? That’s grounds for keeping me around for a long, long time, there, Addy girl,” he says, leaning in close so that his face is mere centimeters from mine.

  I lift a hand, pressing it against his chest and giving him a light push back. “Oh, please, like I was in risk of you not being around. You’re like one of those burrs in the woods that stick to you and won’t let go.”

  “I was going to say he’s like a tick, but burr works, too,” Beau jokes, but I know him well and the tone in his voic
e is anything but joking. Especially since he said it while walking between the two of us as if he needed to get something out of the fridge.

  “You’re such a dick, Beau,” Tyson replies, same tone.

  “Okay, you guys. Enough. Let’s eat.”

  We demolish both trays of pizza rolls in no time and after refilling our drinks, I grab my backpack and set it on the table. “If I don’t get my homework done, Mom will kill me.”

  “I forgot my bag in Tyson’s car,” Lizzy says, pulling the attention back to her. “Beau, will you help me get it?”

  “Your backpack? You need Beau’s help getting your backpack?”

  She gives me a look that says ‘shut up’ and grabs his hand, tugging him behind her. He doesn’t put up a fight.

  The door clicks shut behind them and the quiet in the kitchen is deafening.

  “You okay?”

  “What? Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I ask Tyson.

  “Because you’re staring at the door. You like Beau or somethin’?”

  “Beau? No! Of course not! We’re friends.”

  “Okay. Just wondered. I know you’re friends, but you’re like super close, you know?”

  “We’ve just known each other a long time, is all.”

  He nods then grins widely. “You like Lizzy, then?”

  I laugh loudly. “Tyson! No! We’re friends, too. And I’m not a lesbian, you know that.”

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” we say at the same time, laughing together.

  “It’s just that… you seem upset. Are you? Upset?”

  I look at Tyson, into his deep mocha eyes that are staring at me with so much… I don’t know. Want? Need? Desire? He might be a huge flirt and a player, but I can’t deny his kindness.

  “I don’t like to see you upset, Addy. You shouldn’t live a day being sad.”

  He places his hands on my shoulders and scoots his chair closer. I swallow hard and take a deep breath when he pulls us both to standing then leans down. I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing but no words come out. Instead, he sees it as an invitation. And maybe it was.

  His lips brush against mine in the slightest touch, almost as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to be kissing me. So gently it doesn’t seem possible it could be from Tyson, who I always pictured kissing with more self-confidence… like he really knows what he’s doing. Not that I ever pictured kissing him. But…