Hook Up Daddy (A Single Dad Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  I was going to keep my nose clean for awhile after this. I owed it to Mr. Dean for taking me in. I didn’t need to bring any more trouble to his doorstep. As it was, I knew Mrs. Dean was gunning for me to fail.

  Always a good feeling.

  Someone poked me.

  “We’re talking to you.”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  This time, the poke was harder. I clenched my fists, but I refused to swing. It would be their word against mine and I knew who’d win. No one would believe that the jocks would do something like that. No, instead the kid who lived in a trailer and got in trouble all of the time must have thrown the first punch.

  But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I instead took my frustration out on the wall I was scrubbing.

  “Let’s piss on the wall. Then he’ll have to clean it up.”

  The door swung open again as Cole marched in. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”

  He was their leader and was clearly unhappy with them. I didn’t make eye contact with him. Our friendship was tentative, so I wasn’t going to screw it up. The guys looked at their shoes. “We were just fooling around. No harm done.”

  “Beat it, guys. Before I tell Coach on you.”

  The shuffled out, but no one touched me. Cole turned to me as the door closed. “They’re assholes. I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “They wanted to get you into more trouble. Freshman can be buttheads.”

  “No argument here.”

  “You still coming over tonight?” Cole said.

  He leaned up against the wall I had just cleaned.

  “Are they going to be there?”

  “Shit, no. I don’t hang out with them. I prefer seniors and maybe some juniors.”

  “Yeah, I can make it.”

  “You need a ride?”

  “I’ll figure that out.”

  Maybe I could walk or borrow a bike. Cole didn’t live that far from Taylor – they were all rich. Cole slapped me on the back. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  He indicated the wall. “Why’d you do it?”

  I debated not telling him. Would it sound weird? “It said that Taylor was a slut and I didn’t think anyone should write that about her.”

  Cole nodded. “She’s a tease, but not a slut. I don’t know anyone who has done her, and I’m sure that anyone who has would brag at banging her.”

  The thought of anyone banging her bothered me. It shouldn’t. I had no claims on her and she probably didn’t even consider us friends.

  “That’s probably true being as she’s the most popular girl in school.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “No. She doesn’t need to know. I get in trouble all of the time. At least this time was worth it.”

  “Worth it? What did Mr. Dean think?”

  “He gave me a pass on this one and asked me to try harder not to get in trouble.”

  “And those dickheads came in here looking for a fight,” Cole said.

  “Yep.”

  “Well, buddy, I’ll see you tonight. Eight.”

  Cole left me to my thoughts. Should I tell Taylor? What difference would it make? She might even get mad at me. Sometimes girls did that – shooting the messenger. No, she could remain in her bubble and not worry about these things.

  ***

  I had been home for a few hours when Taylor found me.

  “Can we postpone the math tutorial until tomorrow? I have a date tonight.”

  “Sure, Taylor. I’m going out, also.”

  “With a girl?”

  “No, just hanging with some guys,” I said.

  I hadn’t been on a date in a year. I had no money and no job. I couldn’t take anyone out.

  “That’s cool. I need to go get ready.”

  “It’s easier being a guy,” I commented.

  She nodded, then left me. I was playing a game on Facebook when Mrs. Dean barged into my room. She barely knocked then strode in. Guess it runs in the family. I looked up at her.

  She pointed her index finger at me. “You are on borrowed time.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Mr. Dean had reassured me that everything was fine. Had he changed his mind?

  She stepped further into the room, her eyes wild. “I don’t like you.”

  Fair enough. I wasn’t going to say anything. She had something she wanted to tell me, so I’d let her talk. No need to piss her off further.

  “If you screw up again, I’m sending you back to the rock you crawled out from under. I don’t know how you schmoozed my husband, but I’m not so easily won over.”

  Good to know where I stood. If I could just avoid her, we’d be fine, but that wasn’t possible. We were living in the same house.

  Mr. Dean had given me the key to the house and the keys to Taylor’s car that she couldn’t drive right now. I was happy it was a mid-sized SUV, not some BMW. I wouldn’t have to ask for a ride tonight.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” was the only thing I could think to say.

  “You are on notice. I mean it, Dylan. I don’t think you are a good influence on my daughter.”

  Right. Her daughter had immediately turned to drugs and alcohol the second I stepped in the front door.

  Her daughter was fine and she had little faith in Taylor if she thought I could influence her that easily. I pressed my lips together so as not to say what I was thinking. It wouldn’t help the situation at all. I had to be respectful, even if she was ragging on me.

  I was here because Mr. Dean wanted me here. If he ever changed his mind, I knew I’d be back in that trailer as fast as he could drive me. I bit my lip so nothing would slip out.

  “I don’t like you. I don’t want you in my house. My husband thinks he needs to save everyone. I’m just embarrassed that you are here.”

  “Mother,” Taylor said.

  I looked over to see her in the doorway, her hands on her hips. She was in a robe and had her hair up. Her face was made up more than it needed to be. She was pretty without makeup.

  Now was not the time to tell her that.

  “You stay out of this, Taylor,” Mrs. Dean said.

  “Not when you’re shouting so that the whole neighborhood can hear.”

  “The neighborhood cannot hear me. You know I wouldn’t if they could.”

  I slid my hands into my pockets. I was going to have a front row seat to a cat fight, I thought. I’d heard about mothers and daughters. It was all true in the Dean household.

  “How true. It’s all about appearances to you.”

  Said the girl covered in makeup. I tried not to smile.

  “This boy is bad news.”

  “That’s awful, Mother. He’s just a kid who has had some bad breaks.”

  I probably should point out that they shouldn’t talk about me like I wasn’t there, but I was not getting into the middle of this. Mr. Dean was out somewhere, and I had no idea when he would be back. He would not be able to save me from this.

  “Your father has turned you,” Mrs. Dean said.

  “Really? You think I don’t have an opinion of my own?”

  “You and your father are a team. I know how this household works.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. I got the feeling that they had this fight on a regular basis. I only happened to be the subject this time.

  “Right, Mother. We’re all against you. I think you owe Dylan an apology.”

  “You’re suddenly on his side? You’re his new cheerleader.”

  Which was ironic, since she was, indeed, a cheerleader.

  “I’ve just decided to give him a chance,” Taylor said. “You should, too.”

  Her mother groaned then left, brushing past Taylor. I tried not to look at the spot where Taylor’s robe came together. From this angle, it looked like she was naked underneath it. Her feet and legs were bare.

  Oh, crap. I was getting a boner.

 
I turned my body away from her. “You don’t need to defend me, Taylor.”

  She stepped further into the room. For the love of God, leave, I thought. She put a hand on my shoulder. I about shot out of the chair. “It’s okay, Dylan. She’ll come around. She just takes longer.”

  “It’s fine, Taylor. Go get ready for your date.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as an attractive girl was half clothed in my presence.

  Holy shit. Just a tug of her belt and she’d be naked. Would she be surprised if I did that? She’d probably get mad and then I’d really be out on my ass. Think of math. Differential equations. Convergence. Harmonic sequence. Shit. It wasn’t working.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Taylor. Please, go. I’m fine. I’ve had a lot worse happen to me.”

  I was getting angry and I shouldn’t. She had no idea the effect she had on me. Or any girl in a robe would have on me. I was a teenaged boy, after all.

  ***

  After her being in a robe on Saturday night, I was happy that Taylor was fully dressed when I helped her with math on Sunday. I’d gone to see my mother and was feeling depressed. Spending time with Taylor would lighten my mood.

  We decided to work at the dining room table. Her father was out washing his car. I had no idea where Mrs. Dean was. Besides meals, I hadn’t seen her, but I did spend a lot of time in my room when I was not at school.

  I had the book laid out and a pencil ready for Taylor. She bopped into the room looking like we were going to be baking cupcakes or something. I was happy that I was going to be spending time with her, but was she that happy about it, also?

  Or had her date gone that well?

  I hadn’t been home when she got back. My curfew was later. I was a guy. That’s how it worked, apparently. I’d just been happy to borrow her car.

  She plopped down in a seat next to me, her notebook in her hand.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She frowned. “I want a soda first. You want one?”

  I nodded. She left and came back with two cans and a bowl of potato chips. She was stalling. I could understand that. She didn’t want to do this math, but she had to learn it. Not that she would use it again. If she was that far into the weeds in high school, she shouldn’t take it in college.

  “What do you want to major in at college?” I said.

  She looked around to see if anyone was in the room with us. Not sure why. “I want to be a nurse, but my mother wants me to be an engineer.”

  “Not with your math skills.”

  I realized how that sounded as soon as it was out of my mouth. I expected her to stomp out. Instead, Taylor laughed. “You are right, but I need to at least pass this class. And then never take anything like this again.”

  “Not a bad idea. How was your date last night?”

  Maybe I was stalling, too. I had looked forward to spending the afternoon with her. I shouldn’t. She was off limits to me, but a guy could hope. I’m sure she had no interest in me. She was the good girl and I was the bad boy. That only happened in trashy teen movies.

  Not in real life.

  “It was okay. He was kind of a jerk.”

  I straightened, feeling protective. “What did he do?”

  “He insisted that I kiss him goodnight.”

  “You didn’t want to?”

  “No, I didn’t. I guess I don’t like to do that on the first date.”

  She really was innocent. I’d done more than that after only a burger. Her date had taken her to a nice restaurant. If I knew the guy, I’d have a talk with him. “What did you do?”

  “I walked away. He yelled at me, but I wasn’t budging.”

  “I told you guys were dicks.”

  She laughed. “Yes, you did, and I’m going to listen to you from now on. He sent me a text today.”

  “Did you tell him last night that you didn’t want to go out with him again?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “We men are idiots. We need direct language. Tell us what you want us to do,” I told her.

  Too many women assumed we had an idea what was going on in their heads. We didn’t have clue.

  “Really? I should have told him that last night?”

  “Yes. What time did he drop you home?”

  “Ten.”

  “He should have gotten the first hint from that early time. Then you could have reinforced it with what you said. No reason to be mean, just firm.”

  She tapped the pencil against her cheek while she stared at me. “Wow. I never would have thought of that.”

  “Did you text him back?”

  “No, I wanted to ask you what I should do.”

  “You should tell him that you don’t want to see him again. Think of it as rejecting a puppy. You have to be firm, but don’t kick the guy in the nuts.”

  She laughed again, and I liked making her do that. Crap. It was going to be a long afternoon if I kept thinking about her this way. She sipped her soda then pulled out her phone. “Help me do this.”

  She tapped on some keys then showed me the text. I shook my head. She’d taken a nicer approach than I thought she should. “No. Say these words. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to see you again. It isn’t going to work out.”

  “I should say that? That isn’t kicking him in the nuts?”

  “No, it isn’t. Calling him names and telling him he’s ugly would be.”

  There was that laugh again. In that laugh, I could hear hope for my world. Holy shit. Stop, Dylan. Stop, I told myself. I rubbed my face while she typed.

  “Okay, I did it. Will he text me back?”

  “He might, but ignore it. If you respond, he’ll keep responding thinking that there is hope.”

  She nodded. “Well, you’ve taught me a lot about guys today. Maybe we need to talk about math. Or do you want to tell me about your night?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing to tell. Guys hanging out. Talking about girls.”

  Specifically, girls we would like to do and teachers we’d do it to also, but sweet, innocent Taylor didn’t need to know that part. She would be disgusted at what we talk about. No need to completely shatter her illusions about boys. Not all at once.

  “Do you talk about girls the way we talk about boys?”

  He laughed. “Not quite, but I’m not revealing any more. We men need some secrets.”

  She nodded then opened the textbook. “Sadly, we have to get down to this math. You need a refill on the soda before we start?”

  “No, thanks. Let’s get going.”

  Chapter Eight

  Taylor

  I walked down the hall after math. Dylan had run out of class before I could talk to him, but for the first time, I hadn’t felt lost in class. I had some idea what the teacher was saying. I stopped at her locker and Greg, the guy I’d had a date with Saturday, stopped by. I groaned inside.

  “Hello, Taylor.”

  “I thought I made it clear, Greg, that I wasn’t interested.”

  “No reason to be a bitch, Taylor.”

  I pulled out the books I needed. I didn’t want this from him. Hadn’t my text been clear? “I’m not being a bitch. I’m telling you that I said everything I needed to tell you in that text. I want you to leave me alone.”

  I slammed my locker and walked away from him. He put a hand on my shoulder. I spun back to him, pissed. This guy as an idiot. I’m sure my face was red. “What do you want?”

  “Another chance.”

  “I don’t want to go out with you again.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you were rude to me and I’m not interested in you,” I said.

  I stared him right in the eyes so he’d understand that I was serious.

  “You can’t be serious. This is me. Girls would give their right leg to go out with me.”

  “Not this girl.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder again to stop me when I turned away from
him. I didn’t turn this time, but tried to shake him off. “Stop it, Greg.”

  “Or you’ll do what?”

  I looked back at him. His eyes raked up and down me. “We meet alone somewhere, you’re mine.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No, it’s a promise.”

  He put his face close to mine, but then he was yanked backwards. Dylan had him by the neck and his arm was cocked back to punch Greg.

  “Dylan, no.”

  Dylan looked at me. His face was red with anger. “Is this the guy?”

  “Yes, but he isn’t worth getting in trouble over.”

  Dylan glanced back at Greg then back at me. “You leave her alone. She’d made it clear that she isn’t interested.”

  He let go of Greg, who made a show of wiping off any dirt on himself. Not that there was any. He was just being an ass.

  “What the fuck concern is it of yours?” Greg said.

  He was brave now that Dylan had let him go. Dylan had a few inches on him and the asswipe was still mouthing off to him.

  “She’s my friend,” Dylan said.

  That was sweet. He considered me a friend.

  Greg looked from Dylan to me. “Oh, I get it. You want her all to yourself.” He pointed to Dylan and asked me, “Slumming with him?”

  Dylan’s arm went back again, but I grabbed it. “Don’t, Dylan. He’s an idiot.”

  Dylan looked at my hand on his arm. He relaxed it. I really didn’t want him to get into trouble. My father might kick him out, and I didn’t want that to happen. I was beginning to like the guy. I wanted him to have a chance at a good life.

  Back in the trailer, he wouldn’t.

  Dylan stepped back. “Beat it.”

  The bell rang. I was late. I was never late to class. Dylan looked at me as Greg left at the sound. “You okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I deal with punks like him all of the time,” he said.

  Right now, he was my hero. I had been beginning to be afraid of Greg when Dylan showed up. “You’re going to be late to class.”

  “It’s just study hall. The teacher’s cool. You should go to your next class and tell her your stomach hurts. Tell him or her that you were in the bathroom afraid you were going to throw up. You can go to the nurse’s office and get to lay down for a few minutes, then she’ll give you a pass to your next class. That way you won’t be late.”