Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
But the real answer is profoundly uncomfortable. Even if it’s the truth, I don’t relish the idea of insulting someone’s child.
Wanting to be free of this interaction rather than have to do that, I give my door another tug. “Let go.”
“Not until you tell me why you don’t like me.”
“It isn’t you I don’t like,” I snap, surprised by my own answer.
I don’t dislike him?
That doesn’t seem right.
Since my answer doesn’t make sense and he’s still frowning, I decide to pound the nail in the coffin of his romantic interest in me. “I don’t like your son.”
He blinks like that’s the absolute last guess he ever would have made. “My son?”
I nod, feeling my face heat. Even though my opinion is completely warranted, I feel like a witch saying it.
But surely now he sees. There’s no point whatsoever in spending time with someone who doesn’t like your child. There’s no future in it.
I had a first date planned with a man once. He came to pick me up, and when Parker ran over to give me a hug and kiss before I left, I caught a look of utter disdain pass across his face. When pressed, he said he wasn’t a big fan of kids.
I didn’t bother going on the date. What would have been the point? Parker wasn’t going anywhere, and if he wasn’t willing to love her like I did, he had no business being in my life.
I don’t see myself ever liking Landon Atwater, so his father could be the man of my dreams and it still wouldn’t work.
Understandably confused, he asks, “What does my son have to do with anything?”
“My daughter and your son go to school together.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.”
“My daughter is Parker Johansson,” I tell him since he probably would have expected my last name to match my daughter’s, and he hadn’t heard any mention of Parker Cane.
Not so much as a hint of recognition registers on his face.
I frown, a little insulted on Parker’s behalf.
He’s never even mentioned her?
That seems wrong, but Hayden is clearly clueless when it comes to the relationship between our children.
I don’t see how. I’ve heard so much about Landon Atwater over the years, I feel like I know the little jerk even though we’ve never met.
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I snap. “Your asshole son has bullied my daughter since middle school. I assumed you knew and just didn’t care how your son behaved, but now I’m thinking you actually aren’t even aware of what goes on with him.”
“I’m a very busy man, and Landon has a lot of friends,” he says a touch dismissively. “I can’t possibly keep up with the goings-on regarding his social life.”
“Well, they are not friends,” I tell him. “He’s mean to her, and I obviously can’t date someone whose son is mean to my daughter.”
“Maybe he likes her,” Hayden suggests, not remotely alarmed or surprised to hear that his son is a bully.
“Nuh-uh, no. We do not entertain the narrative that if a boy is mean to you, that means he likes you.”
“Entertain it or don’t, but it’s probably the truth.”
I stare at him, letting him see how unimpressed I am.
“I’ll talk to him,” he says since the dismissive route didn’t get him far. “I’ll tell him to stop picking on her.”
“I would appreciate that,” I say, slightly mollified. At least he isn’t one of those parents who knows what a jerk their kid is but just doesn’t care.
“Now, with that out of the way, how about that drink?”
I sigh, shaking my head at him. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when I want something. Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t look at all sorry.
I definitely shouldn’t go out with him. There’s no question it’s a bad idea, and I really am taking the year off dating so I can focus on Parker.
But I can’t remember the last time I went out on a nice date, and I do have a feeling I would have a good time with him. I also have a feeling if I keep telling him no, I’ll keep seeing him until he wears me out and gets a yes.
I suppose one little drink couldn’t cause any real harm.
“Make it 9:30,” I say.
Victory glints in his eyes as he smiles down at me. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up.”
“Don’t you need my address?”
“Already have it.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Stalker.”
“Hey, if you can drive me to stalking, you should feel pretty damn proud of yourself. I usually can’t be bothered to answer a text.”
I’m not sure he should admit that, but in a way it’s comforting. It verifies what I already thought—that taking me out for this drink is only appealing to him because I keep turning him down. As soon as he takes me out and realizes I’m a boring mom and he could be out with a gorgeous, college-aged beach bunny instead, he’ll lose interest and leave me alone.