“He’s a great kid,” I murmur when he’s out of earshot and Daniel returns to the table.
“The best. I lucked out.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it.” I take the last bite of pasta on my plate, eyeing my companion as I chew and swallow. “You’re doing a hell of a job.”
“Thank you. It still feels like I’m not most of the time.” Daniel slings an arm over the back of his chair. “I kept telling myself it would get easier.”
“Does it?”
“Yes and no. I’m starting the tenure process—basically the world’s biggest performance review,” he goes on at my questioning look. “I need help. With Andy. With keeping our lives organized. With making sure we’re not deciding between McDonalds and frozen food every night.”
I point to my empty plate. “Evening turned out pretty well from where I’m sitting.”
He shifts forward in his seat. “How are you so good with kids? Did you babysit a lot? Have younger siblings?”
“Only one brother, he’s older. I guess I’m a kid at heart.”
He nods, reaching for his water.
For a man who’s so open about some things, he’s good at hiding what he’s thinking.
“So, what happens after your roommate leaves?”
I twirl my wineglass by its stem. “I’ll live alone or find a new place to live for the semester.”
“Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll figure it out. I always do.” I drain the last few sips of my wine in a gulp. “Bathroom?”
“Down the hall on your right.”
I shift away from the table, taking my dishes to the sink before turning to head down the hall following his directions.
Inside the bathroom, I use the mirror to check my reflection, then glance at my phone.
Three texts and a missed call from Jules.
I want my friend to be happy. But can’t she be happy without leaving me? It’s not like her girlfriend never stays over. Maybe she can move into Liv’s room.
I’m being a shitty roommate.
I hit Jules’s contact.
“Hey.” She answers on the first ring. “Liv said you heard. I’m sorry it came out that way.”
“It’s fine. Better than fine. Be with Tess.”
“You mean that?” Her voice perks up. “I didn’t think you were her biggest fan.”
I’m also not gonna tell my roommate not to go for it. There are enough people that don’t have your back in the world. I’m one thousand percent in my friends’ corners, no matter what.
“With you and Liv gone, it means more room for my shoes.” I stare in the mirror, pulling my face in different directions as I imagine the empty dorm room.
Sounds from outside enter my head.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you at school.”
“I’m buying you the biggest cappuccino tomorrow. Love you.”
“You too.” I click off.
It’s one thing to feel the exhilarating independence of college with your friends at your side. Another to realize you’re flying solo.
No impromptu late-night drinking games. No sharing clothes in the morning. No pranks or jokes. No holding each other’s hair, no complaining over school or dating or life.
I’m either going to be living alone or moving. The hard truth of that sets in.
When I return, Daniel looks up with a smile.
“Time for ice cream,” he announces.
“You guys eat. I should go.” I collect my bag from next to the coffee table. “Thanks for hanging with me, Andy.”
“Bye, Kat!”
I start toward the hall and Daniel follows.
“If I said something wrong—”
“You didn’t.” I sling my bag over my shoulder.
I’ve always liked guys who’re reckless and casual.
Daniel is the opposite.
Seeing him play house tonight should’ve made him less attractive. But I’m impressed with how seriously he takes his job as a single parent, how much it matters to him.
“I’ll drive you home. Let me get Andy.” He reaches across me for his keys, hanging on a peg hook by the door.
“Is that why you didn’t drink tonight?” I can’t remember the last time a guy was such a gentleman, especially without an agenda.
“That and I get silly when I drink.”
My head cocks. “Silly like funny? Are you a trivia machine, Daniel?”
His slow grin is self-deprecating. “Silly as in I’m not nearly as buttoned-up as I pride myself on being.”
The light falls across his face, and I want to trace my finger across the angles.
Now I’m thinking of that night again.
The buzz of alcohol in my veins.
The music and the dark.
The feel of his body close to mine, his woodsy scent.
“Thanks, but I’ll walk. I’m only a few blocks away.” I reach for the door.
“Kat, wait.” A hand finds my arm, and a shiver runs along my skin.
I turn back to meet his dark eyes and determined expression.
“I said I need help with Andy. I meant it.” He leans back over me to replace the keys.
“Like a babysitter?”
“More like a nanny. Someone who could live here.”
When he straightens, he’s closer than before. I’m staring at the exposed vee of skin above the second button on his shirt—which I’m noticing only because I always figured him as a buttoned-all-the-way guy. His dark eyes have flecks of gold in them I’ve never seen.
“Someone who would help mornings and afternoons and before bed,” he goes on, oblivious to the fact that I’m building a mental shrine to him right now. “Just until the end of the semester.”
He’s looking for a recommendation. Another student, maybe.
Focus, Kat.
“No one comes to mind, but I can ask around—”
“You,” he blurts. “I want you.”
4
DANIEL
I want you.
There’s no way I said that.
I’m deliberate, thoughtful, measured.
But now I’ve asked a student to be my nanny.
To move into my house.
A student I fed wine to and caught myself looking at far too intently.
“Me,” she echoes, blinking up at me with those bright, clever eyes. “I’m not a babysitter.”
“Nanny,” I correct, as if that’s what matters.
“It’s still insane.”
Her face is flushed from the wine. I didn’t drink, but suddenly it feels as if there’s half a bottle swimming in my veins.
It is insane.
It’s forward and she’s going to think I’m making a play.
Except that’s not true. When I saw Andy smile with her tonight, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding for weeks.
Months.
Years.
He seems to enjoy her company, and he deserves to have more attention than he’s getting.
“Daniel, you picked me up in the frozen foods aisle buying ice cream to go with my cupcake for dinner. What part of that screams ‘trust me with your only child’?”