It's Complicated

by Missy Johnson

  “I'll let you get back to it in a minute.” He waves his hand as though my job is an inconvenience. “But first, I’m going to do you a favor.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?” I say, distracted.

  “I'm giving you Anna,” he declares.

  My eyes widen. That gets my attention. He couldn’t know…could he? But if he did, he wouldn’t…would he?

  “What?” I bark, shocked.

  “Not permanently,” he growls. “Like, you can't keep her. I want her back, but she’s yours for as long as you need her. Use her as you please and all that.”

  I stare at him, my mouth not working. I can't seem to find the right words—or any words at all—to respond to that. Is he suggesting…? God, I have no idea what he’s suggesting. We were talking about all the women that want to fuck me and the next second he’s giving me his daughter? What kind of fucked up—?

  “She's great with the kids. She can help you out at home, give you a little more time to yourself. Maybe in return, you can help her with a couple of her classes?”

  Ohh. The house. She can help me around the house. That made more sense.

  I shake my head. I know I have to say no, but I don't know how to turn down his offer without making him suspicious as to why I’m turning down free help.

  “Okay, sure,” I found myself saying. “Why the hell not?”

  Chapter Five

  Anna

  “You did what?” I demand with wide eyes. Dad stares at me, confused by my response.

  “What's the problem?” he asks with a shake of his head. “I thought you liked Nick.”

  I blush. “I do,” I whisper.

  I can’t tell him why I didn't want to go over to his house and help him. I don’t even tell him I was over there twice last week. Because that would lead to questions as to why this was such a big deal.

  “But I think I’d just be in the way over there.”

  “Bullshit,” Dad says, with a frown. “I’ve already spoken to him, and he said he’d love to have you around.”

  “Really?” I mutter. Why did hearing that make my heart beat a little faster?

  “And in return for your help, he might be able to help you out with some of those classes you’re having trouble with,” Dad adds.

  “I’m not having trouble with any of my classes,” I growl. Does he not listen when I tell him I’m topping every single class I’m in? The way I’m going, I’ll have my pick of firms to intern with. They’ll be lining up to take me. Too bad there’s only one place I want.

  “Maybe not, but you spend half your life at that damn library, studying. It wouldn't hurt you to get out every once in a while,” he scowls. “My friends make fun of me, kid, because you’re always buried in a damn book.”

  “Dad,” I say with a giggle, “most parents would be thrilled that their child spends all their free time studying. But you want me to study less.”

  “I’m not most parents,” he retorts. Ha. I figured that out years ago.

  “Anyway, I said you’d go over tonight, so he’s expecting you. Just talk to the kids, maybe help put them to bed.” He shrugs like he’s never looked after a child in his life. I feel bad for being so hard on him because he did okay with me. “Whatever. Give it a chance, and if it doesn't work out, then fine. At least you can say you helped the poor guy.” Dad shakes his head. “It's gotta be hard, being a single dad after losing your wife. Then add to that, trying get back out there and dating. I think he’s a bit overwhelmed.”

  “Okay,” I sigh, a stab of guilt hitting me. How could I not help him after that spiel? “I’ll agree to go over there tonight and see how things go. But I’m not promising anything, okay?”

  “That’s my girl,” Dad says, ruffling my hair like I’m twelve. For the second time in as many days, I’m about to do something I just know is going to be a bad idea.

  Let’s just hope I can manage to stay on my feet.

  After dinner, I disappear into my bedroom, trying to figure out what to wear. I’m concerned that I’m spending so much time trying to pick an outfit for something that doesn’t remotely resemble anything romantic.

  And while I’m at it, why the hell am I so nervous? It's not just because I've been watching him undress or because I’m pretty sure he knows that I’ve been watching him undress. Nope. You’re nervous because you’ve got a crush on him.

  “Shut up,” I growl out loud to the little voice in my head. What would you know?

  I go back to deciding on what I’m going to wear and finally decide on casual. Anything else will be obvious and ridiculous. What would my dad think if I dressed up in my best dress to go help put his best friend’s kids to bed? God, what would Nick think?

  Pulling on a tight pair of jeans and a cream sweater, I run my brush through my hair and throw on some lip gloss. I frown at myself in the mirror. I feel sick. I can't go through with this. How can I face him after what happened? You already have. This morning at your car. But I managed to avoid any major eye contact or interaction. Tonight, though? At his house? There’s no avoiding anything. This is so embarrassing. I really don’t want to go over there, but if I don’t, there will be questions from my father, which might end up being more embarrassing than just facing Nick.

  Standing on his doorstep, I prepare myself to ring that bell. I don’t think I could possibly feel any more nervous than I do right now. God, I’m shaking. To the point where every few seconds, I feel like my knees are going to give way. How the hell did I let my dad talk me into this? Nick doesn’t need help. He’s the most together person I’ve ever met.

  The door opens, and I shoot upright, plastering a smile on my face that I’m pretty sure makes me look like I’m high on something. And probably unsafe to be around his kids. With any luck, he’ll send me home.

  “Hey, Anna,” he says. God, I’d forgotten how sexy his voice is. What, in the twelve hours it’s been since you last spoke to him?

  “Fuck off,” I hiss.

  “Uh, excuse me?” Nick asks, raising his eyebrows.

  I blush furiously. “Nothing,” I mutter. “Just remembered something I was supposed to do.”

  “Sure. Are you coming inside, or…?” He stares at me inquisitively. I nod and walk inside, following him into the living room. The kids look up and smile at me.

  “Anna,” Milly grins, giving me a small wave.

  “Hey, Milly,” I say, walking over to her. “Look at your hair! It’s getting so long. I’m so jealous,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “My hair won’t grow past here,” I say, marking a point halfway down my back. She smiles proudly, curling a thick strand of it around her finger.

  “I brush it every single night,” she says. “Daddy told me that’s the only way it will grow. Maybe you should try that?”

  I hold back a giggle and take her eight-year-old advice with a solemn expression on my face.

  “Mill. Teeth and bed, okay?” Nick calls out.

  “Okay,” she sighs. She rolls her eyes at me as if I can relate to how inconvenienced she’s being. I chuckle and watch her disappear into the bathroom.

  “God help me when she’s a teenager,” Nick mutters as he walks past me.

  I tuck Milly into bed and read her a story while Nick does the same for Max. Within five minutes of spending time with that beautiful little girl, I'm so glad that I came over. It’s so easy to forget that Nick didn’t just lose his wife, but these kids lost their mother. I couldn’t even imagine how hard that would’ve been on them.

  My mother leaving me was her choice, and I’ve always been here if she wanted to change that. I never really knew what was missing when it came to having a mom. Milly got to experience that for six years, and then it was taken from her. In that situation, you don’t appreciate the time you’ve had; you’re angry at the time you’ve lost. At least, I would be.

  I walk out of Milly's bedroom and into the living room. Nick is sitting on the couch when I walk in. He glances up at me and smiles. “Would you like a wine?” He
asks getting up. He winces. “Hold up—are you even old enough?”

  “I’m twenty-two,” I retort, arching my eyebrow. Like he doesn’t know.

  “Holy shit, how did that happen?” he mumbles, shaking his head. “I guess part of me still thinks of you as Dan’s little girl. I remember when we first moved here, you’d babysit the kids while Mars and I went out.”

  I smile fondly at the memory. I’d been about seventeen then and desperate for my own set of wheels. Dad refused to buy me a car, so I did everything I could to earn the cash to buy one. It took me twelve months, but I did it. Nick stares wistfully off into space. I feel bad, because it probably never gets easier, losing someone you love.

  “I always liked Marley,” I say. I frown, wishing I could take that back. The last thing he probably wants is me talking about his dead wife.

  “Yeah, she was a good one. I was lucky to know her,” he says.

  “It must be hard, moving on from that kind of connection with someone,” I say.

  He glances at me and smiles. “It is, but I have to do it, you know? I’ve spent the last few years so focused on providing for my kids that I’d forgotten how to live. I think I hit a point where I realized that I was hurting them by not letting myself move on.”

  We’re both quiet for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. This had turned out to be much more intense—and less awkward—than I’d been expecting. I was seeing a side to Nick that I hadn’t seen before and seeing things in myself that I’ve never picked up on. Maybe Dad is right. Maybe I did need to focus less on study and put myself out there. If a guy who lost his wife and is raising two kids alone can do it, surely, I can, too?

  “Well, I guess I'd better get back home,” I mumble.

  “Sure,” he says. “You sound like you’ve got somewhere to be. Hot date with the books?” he teases. I narrow my eyes at him. He chuckles. “Hey, I’m just teasing. Thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it, even though I know your dad probably made you do it.”

  “He persuaded me, yes, but I’m actually glad I came over. I had a nice chat with Milly. I think she misses having a girl to talk to. I guess she wouldn’t get that too often.” I pause. “Unless you bring…” I stop because what I was about to blurt out was both insensitive and none of my business. The problem is, I was halfway through saying it, so it’s hanging in the air like bad karaoke.

  “You’re wondering whether I bring women back here?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. “You’d have seen them if I did, right?”

  Holy fuck, is he suggesting I’d have seen them through his window? It’s a good point, but oh, my god. Dying. He continues while I contemplate stage diving through that window to get out of here.

  “I try to avoid bringing anyone back here. It's not fair on the kids to meet anyone I’m not serious about.”

  I flush. “I'm sorry. That was completely none of my business, and you really didn’t need to answer that.”

  “It's okay,” he says with a shrug. He glances at me. “I know that there’s been some talk around town, about me. You being curious about all that is natural.”

  I want to die. Is that his way of saying he was okay with me spying on him? God, he knows. I take a deep breath, close to passing out from hyperventilation. I need to get out of here, and I need to do it now.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble. I feel embarrassed, ashamed, and all sorts of creepy.

  “So,” he says, eyeing me curiously. “That was you the other night?”

  I cringe. “Who did you think it was? My father?”

  He grimaces and lets out a low laugh. “Not something I really want to think too hard about.”

  I hesitate, my heart pounding. I know that I’m never going to get another chance like this, so I’m going to take it and do something that I’m probably going to regret.

  “What do you want to think hard about?” I whisper.

  “I think you’d better go before we both do something we regret,” he says, not meeting my eyes.

  Shot down.

  I make up some excuse and bolt from his house, relieved that the most embarrassing moment in my life is finally over. Now I must never speak to him again. Maybe I could track down my mother in London and go live with her. All just to avoid future awkward moments with Nick.

  I find solace in my bedroom, where I pace the floor in the dark, wishing I could figure out a way to fix this mess. I'm just about to climb into bed and go to sleep when I see his light click on. It's like an addiction by this stage, and I can’t help but peek.

  Just like every other time, he walks over to the window. Only this time he stands there, deliberately staring directly into my room. My heart thumps as he slowly unbuttons his shirt and peels it from his muscular chest. Holy mother of God. I clasp my hands together, shaking like a leaf.

  I have to sit down on the bed to stop myself collapsing. He stands in front of the window, semi-naked, his hands creeping down toward his belt. I can barely breathe as he unbuckles it, and then gently lowers his zip. He shrugs his pants down and kicks them aside.

  I can't look away, and I don’t think he wants me to because I’m pretty sure this is all happening for my benefit. Just when I think things couldn't get any more surreal, he smiles directly at me. He smiled. My eyes widen. Can he see me? No. Of course, he can’t. He just assumes that I’m watching. I mean, he’s right, but still. I swallow the hard lump in my throat as he wraps his fingers around the band of his boxers and flings them down, then reaches over and turns out the light.

  Holy shit, I think I’m going to pass out.

  I somehow make it over to my bed, and fling myself on top of it. I lay there, my heart pumping, way too wound up to sleep. All I can think about is him standing there, wanting me to see him naked. He’s taken this game to whole new level. It’s one thing for me to be watching him, but for him to strip like that, knowing that I’m watching? I roll over. If he wants to play games, then fine. I can play games.

  I smile to myself because he has no idea who he’s messing with.

  Chapter Six

  Nick

  We’ve been playing a game of cat and mouse all week. She watches me, I acknowledge it, and we continue it the next night. But this time when I stand in front of my window, it’s different. I frown as I watch her, trying to put my finger on exactly what it is. She paces in front of her window and keeps glancing over at mine like she's waiting for me.

  I flick on my lamp, so she knows that I'm there, and then watch her with interest. She stops when she notices the light, turning so she’s facing me. I swear she’s looking right at me as her fingers move up toward the top button on her shirt. I shift on the spot, my heart pounding. What is she doing—? And then it hits me.

  Oh, my god, she's getting undressed in front of me.

  Stripping. I think the word I’m looking for is stripping.

  My best friend’s daughter is about to perform a strip tease for me.

  Oh, shit. Fuck, this isn’t good.

  Of course, the horny side of me thinks this is fucking awesome. I’m fighting a battle between two sides of myself where I feel like there will be no winner. Fuck. What do I do? Look away, you creepy asshole. Embarrassed, I whip my head around to the side, but then I turn back because I can't bring myself to not look. She slides her shirt off and my cock springs into action. Any chance of me not watching is long gone by now. I know I’m going to regret this, and I’m okay with that. Well, right now, I’m fine with it. Later might be a different story.

  With both hands outstretched on the bed behind me, I lean back—mainly to stop myself from doing something even stupider, like grabbing hold of my cock and jacking off. With her shirt gone, she reaches behind her back to unclasp her white, lacy bra. My heart pounds as she glances down, and then looks up, directly at me. I can't breathe because his whole thing is utterly incredible. Is she making the playing field even? Is that what this was about? Or is she getting off on this is much as I am? So many possibilities…

  I wa
tch, mesmerized, as she lowers each strap over her creamy white shoulders, threading her arms free. She still holds the bra to her breasts, not letting go until she looks up and meets my eyes. With both of our lights on, we can clearly see each other. There are no secrets. Everything is out in the open. I swallow hard as she moves her arms free, letting the bra fall to the ground. I stare at her perfectly rounded breasts in shock, wanting nothing more than to close my mouth over them and suck the fuck out of those stiff little nipples.

  Running my hand through my hair, I’m not sure what to do with myself. I stand up, but then I sit back down. I sit forward, but then my erection gets in the way, and I move back. I look back up at her, and she smiles. For the love of God, she's smiling at me. I let out a low groan, so completely turned on. The more worked up I get, the more she smiles.

  She’s loving this.

  Her hands move down, and she places her thumbs beneath the band of her skirt. Slowly, she lowers it down over her thighs, then down over the rest of her legs, until she’s standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of panties. I wet my lips and swallow, watching her as she turns around. She reaches for the hair clip holding her messy bun together and pulls it out. Her blond curls cascade halfway down her back. She turns back around and runs her fingers through her hair. I groan because all I can do is stare at that tiny scrap of material covering her pussy. I shiver, aching to see what's underneath it. She walks over to the window and leans against it, staring at me, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. She raises her eyebrows, and then I realize.

  She's not going to show me.

  “Come on,” I growl, frustrated. I frown at her and shake my head. She laughs and reaches for her lamp, switching it off. “Fuck,” I mumble, falling back onto my bed.

  I think I just got blue balled.

  Sighing, I crawl up to the pillows and flop down face first, then reach over and switch off my light. I lay there in the darkness, thinking about what I’d just witnessed. I replay it over and over in my mind, each time waiting for those tiny panties to come off, and maybe see a finger slide in there, but the ending never changes.