4

It's Saturday which means I don't have to wake up to an alarm.

Unfortunately, I'm still up by six.

I do the dishes I put off last night and change my bedsheets since Riley will be sleeping in my bed tonight.

When I got a place of my own during the split, I jumped at the first apartment I found—a furnished one-bedroom ten minutes from the house. There weren't any two bedrooms available at the time, and I thought I might eventually move, but a year and a half later, I'm still here. Riley sleeps in my room when I have her, and I crash on the sleeper sofa in the living room. My walls are covered in her artwork, and her toys are spilling out of bins. Her stuff is the only personality in this place.

After a quick shower, I get dressed and scrub a towel through my hair, drying it. It's getting a little longer than I normally like, which automatically makes me think of Bella.

Maybe it's pointless to think about her. But maybe I was also hasty in telling her I wanted casual—only one night. I just don't have a lot of time for anything more. But maybe I'm fucking getting ahead of myself because she didn't necessarily hint that she wanted it to be more than one night, either.

But I had fun. Connecting with someone I just met is fucking rare for me. She made me feel interesting, and my life is far from it.

So, maybe I'm a fucking idiot for not getting her number.

Which is why half an hour before I have to get Riley, I text Jasper.

Edward: Can I have Bella's number?

I hit send before I can overthink it.

Jasper: hahaha

Edward: What?

Jasper: She asked me for your number last night.

I'm fucking smiling because she was thinking about me. Maybe she does want it to be more than just one night.

Edward: You serious?

Jasper: Yeah, dude. She couldn't stop talking about you the morning after.

Hearing this boosts my fucking ego.

Edward: She hasn't texted yet… give me her number.

He gives it to me, and I thank him, ignoring the eggplant emoji he feels the need to send yet again.

Just before ten, I cruise across town to pick up Riley, with the windows down and the radio up. The sun is out, only blue skies on this mid-June day. She's in the front yard when I pull into the driveway and is already running my way before I cut the engine.

I scoop her up into my arms.

"Oof," I grunt, my back protesting a little, even though she's on the petite side of five. "Hey, baby girl."

"I'm not a baby, Dad," she says, all attitude, her little blonde ponytail already falling out of place.

Dad?

When the fuck did that start?

"Okay, Peanut. You're right. You're a big girl," I tell her, hoisting her up a little higher in my arms. "You ready to go?"

"Let me grab her bag!" Chelsea calls out. She's been sitting on the front steps this entire time, watching us.

I walk around the front of the truck and open the rear passenger door, setting Riley in her booster seat and buckling her in just as Chelsea comes back out, bag in hand.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she says quietly, lingering.

"You packed Bunny?" The hand-knitted rabbit my mom made for Riley when she was three. She became attached to it during the split and can't sleep without it now.

"Bunny was the first thing I packed," she reassures me. "Can we talk for a sec?"

I nod, giving Ri an easy smile. "You wanna choose the music, Peanut?"

"Coco!"

I open her playlist on my phone and hand it to her when the first song begins, then shut the door. Chelsea and I step back from the truck, out of earshot, but close enough so Riley can still see us.

"What's up?" I ask, actually looking at Chelsea now. She looks tired. Makeup-free. It makes her look younger than thirty-five, I think. I glance down at my boots then back at her.

She hesitates. "I'm sorry."

I wasn't expecting that.

"For what?" I ask.

For cheating on me?

For tearing our family apart?

For bleeding me dry? Emotionally and financially?

"For being defensive last night about the whole bath thing," she says, looking up at me with clear blue eyes.

They're the same blues that my baby has.

They make me cave more than I'd ever admit.

"It's fine," I tell her, swallowing back my own defensiveness. It's easy to do when she backs down first. "I wasn't trying to be a dick. I just get worried about our girl."

"I know," she soothes, gripping my arm. "I shouldn't have left her alone in the bath, even for a minute. You're right. It won't happen again."

"Okay. Well…" I look over at Riley who's watching us with more perception than I give her credit for. "Thanks."

"Stay for a bit?" she asks. "I can make us a late breakfast."

"We've got plans," I tell her.

"I want y'all to stay," she murmurs.

A stab to the fucking heart.

I sigh. "Chels… don't. I already promised her."

It's just the park but still, Riley has her heart set on it. And I'm not about to get her heart set on seeing me and her mom together.

"It's just breakfast. It's not anything else, Edward."

Sometimes I feel guilty. Like maybe I was too hasty in filing for divorce. Like I gave up too easily on our family.

It's when I remember all of the shit that went down between us, and how she gave up first, that I feel confident in my choices.

She turns away from me quickly, clearly upset I've declined to stay, and jerks open the door, kissing Riley goodbye.

I let them do their thing before climbing into the truck.

When Chelsea's inside the house, I turn around to make sure Ri's good and that there aren't any tears after saying goodbye to her mom.

"Ready, Peanut?"

"Ready, Daddy."

=.=.=

After an hour of pushing Riley on the swings, spotting her on the monkey bars, and chasing her around, I'm exhausted and ready to leave the park. But Riley's energy is endless, so I don't call it quite yet.

I am grateful for the short break when she meets a couple of kids her age and decides she'd rather play with them. I stand in the wood chips near the play structure, keeping a close eye.

With Riley distracted and still playing, I use the opportunity to text Bella.

I go back and forth on what to say, then stop overthinking and just type.

Hey, it's Edward. I asked Jasper for your number, I hope that's okay.

I figure it's okay since she asked him for mine, too, but I dunno if I want her to know I'm aware she did that.

"Daddy! Daddy, watch this!" Riley calls out, and I glance up to see her go down the slide by herself. "I can do the big slide now, and I'm not even scared like I was when I was four!"

I grin. "Way to go, baby." She beams, running past me and up the steps to do it again. "Five more minutes, then we gotta go to Nana and Papa's."

I pocket my phone, and after her tenth time going down the slide, I wait for her at the bottom and scoop her up, kissing the bravest girl's cheek.

=.=.=

Of course, Riley falls asleep on the way to my parents' place.

I carefully unbuckle the straps and carry her toward the house, cradled against my chest.

The door's unlocked, so I walk in and close it softly behind me. It's quiet inside, so it's likely my parents are out back.

I go to lay Riley down on the couch, but she whimpers in her sleep and clutches me tighter. I take advantage of the situation, plop my ass down on the cushions, and succumb to being her pillow until she wakes up.

I'm not sure what time it is when I blink my eyes open and find my mom sitting on the other end of the couch, reading a book.

"Where's Ri?" I ask, throat dry. I squeeze the back of my neck with my palm, wincing at the pain from sleeping at an awkward angle.

"She's in the backyard playing hide and seek with your dad."

"Oh."

"Are you sleeping enough?" she asks, concerned.

"I sleep every chance I get. Clearly."

I scrub a hand over my face and pull my phone out to check the time.

What I see instead is that Bella texted.

Twice.

Bella: Hey, you. I actually got your number from Jasper, too, ha…

Bella: But I'm glad you reached out. I've been thinking about you.

This makes me smile, and once again, I'm fucking attracted to how candid and open she is.

I'm about to reply, but I look up, and my mom is staring at me suspiciously.

"What?" I ask, locking my phone until the screen is black.

She just smiles innocently. "Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

She stands from the couch, shaking her head. "My son looked happy for a split second. Forgive me for taking joy in that."

"Me? Happy? Ha!" I jokingly mumble. She gives me a look. "I'm kidding."

I follow her into the kitchen, and she puts me to work slicing potatoes while she gets everything else out for dinner.

"You know you are allowed to be happy, right? The divorce has been final for a year."

"I am happy. Riley makes me happy."

She flips on the faucet and rinses some carrots. "I'm talking about outside of your daughter."

I let the words hang in the air, both of us working silently near each other.

"Yeah, well… maybe I'm not ready," I eventually say. "Maybe I have too much baggage."

I don't mention my trust issues and lack of self-confidence from being lied to and fucking cheated on by the one woman I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with.

"An ex-wife might be baggage, but your daughter is not," she says seriously.

"I know," I mumble guiltily. "I didn't mean it like that about Riley. You know I love her and would do anything for her. But those are the exact reasons why dating would be difficult."

"Not if you're with the right person who knows where your priorities lie."

I have to admit she has a valid point.

"Look, I'll drop it," she relents and stops chopping the carrots to point at me with one. "I just don't want you to miss out on something, or someone, who can make your face light up like that with a simple text."

"The someone who texted was Jasper," I lie.

"Hey, if switching teams at this point is what you wanna do, I'm all for it. As long as you're happy."

She says it lightly, and I know she knows I'm just being a shit, but I appreciate her unwavering support. Always have.

I breathe out a laugh through my nose. "That's oddly sweet, Mom. Thanks."

"And you're oddly slow at slicing those potatoes," she snarks, bumping her hip with mine. "Get to work, kid."

=.=.=

When Riley's finally asleep in my bed, I unfold the couch, lie down on the thin, shitty mattress, and pull out my phone.

I've been dying to reply to Bella, but after dinner with my parents, there was bath time, multiple books, two calls to Chelsea, and the goodnight song.

I finally have a minute to myself.

Edward: I've been thinking about you, too. Also, sorry for the late reply.

She starts typing.

Bella: Late? It's only 9 lol

Edward: I just meant I wanted to text you sooner, but I was busy.

Bella: It's okay. I didn't expect you to respond right away. Or even really reach out at all. It was a nice surprise.

I grin and stare at my phone, the screen the brightest thing in the room.

Edward: I had a lot of fun the other night and felt a little bad for leaving you there. You made it home okay?

Bella: No, I'm actually still here. Can you come get me? lol

I laugh.

Part of me kind of wishes she was still there.

In that bed.

With me.

Edward: You don't wanna know where my head is at right now.

A minute passes.

Bella: Tell me.

Edward: Us in that bed… yeah.

I second-guess the shit out of myself when it takes her a couple more minutes to reply to that.

Bella: Edward, Edward, Edward. Are you trying to sext me?

I'm not. Not with my kid in the other room.

Edward: Not intentionally. Just trying to be honest.

Bella: Not that I'm against it, but I'm out right now, so…

Right. It's Saturday night. Most people are out socializing, and I'm lying here in the dark, on a pull-out bed, ready to pass the fuck out. Even if Riley weren't here, I'd probably be in bed anyway.

Edward: Sorry, I'll let you go.

A handful of minutes pass by. I rest my phone on my chest and close my eyes, waiting for it to vibrate with her response.

I end up falling asleep and don't wake up until three in the morning to read her message with bleary eyes. She'd sent it six minutes after my last text.

Bella: No need to be sorry. I'm glad you texted. Really. What are you up to tonight?

It's definitely too late to reply to her now. I reread our short exchange, and part of me regrets that I messaged her at all. I'd told her I wasn't looking for anything, but then I'm asking Jasper for her number and starting a conversation? I'm fucking hitting on her? Even if it wasn't intentional, but still.

I'm confusing the fuck out of myself and probably her, too.

Irritated, I leave the pullout bed to plug in my phone, take a piss, and check on Riley.

As I try to fall back asleep, I can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't message Bella again. Even if there wouldn't be any harm in getting to know her, maybe I'm just not ready.

And I don't know when, or if, I will be.

=.=.=

"But I don't wanna."

This is my Monday morning.

Even though we laid out her clothes last night, Riley changes her mind when it's time to get dressed for summer camp. She wants to wear the same shirt she wore Saturday, but it's covered in the ice cream she sweet-talked her way into after we had dinner with my parents. I meant to do laundry last night, but I was too fucking tired. Now I'm paying for it today in the form of Ri being difficult.

She's sitting on the edge of my bed, her legs dangling and swinging, looking so fucking cute despite how frustrated she's making me. I crouch down, so we're at eye level. I'm trying really hard not to lose my shit because we've been going back and forth for twenty minutes now.

"We're gonna be late, Peanut. Remember what we talked about—being responsible? You're five now. Almost six." The "big girl" angle doesn't always work, but I'm trying.

"What does 'sponsible mean again?"

"Responsible," I say, enunciating my words. "It means having to be a big girl and sometimes doing things you don't want to do."

"No, thank you."

I start to smirk but try to hide it. At least she used her manners.

"Ri."

"Pink shirt, Daddy."

"It's dirty, baby. I'm not sending you to camp in a dirty shirt."

She brightens. "Maybe I can be responsible and wash my own clothes."

"I appreciate the offer, but that's Daddy's responsibility."

She thinks about this. "Laundry is something you don't wanna do?"

I lean closer and whisper, "I never ever wanna do it." I really fucking hate it. "I should have last night, but I was too tired."

Riley grins like I've just told her a secret, then places her small hands on both of my bearded cheeks. "My daddy is the most tired always."

"I really am." I kiss her nose. "Let's get dressed, and we can grab doughnuts on the way to camp."

She grabs the clothes we picked out and hops off the bed. It's not exactly a win in my book, bribing her with sugary carbs, but I'll take whatever help I can get today.

=.=.=

When I get to work, I find out I'm assigned one of the trainees for the day. I end up having to take my lunch break later than I usually do because explaining everything to him and answering his questions takes too much time.

It's not his fault he's so fucking eager to learn. It's great, I guess. I'm just not in the mood. It's hot out, I slept like shit, and I'm starving.

I've just taken the last bite of turkey and swiss on wheat bread when I hear one of the guys near me whistle.

It's followed by a catcall from someone else and then a holler.

I fucking hate when they do this. It's like a sexual-harassment domino effect.

"Ooh, it's the feisty one, boys!" Mike calls out.

Despite my better judgment, I glance up to see the woman they're heckling.

Walking on the sidewalk, not even looking our way, with her arm outstretched and flipping all of us off, is Bella.

Well, not flipping off all of us. It's more so for the dirty bastards who are embarrassing themselves. I doubt it's for me and the others who stay silent.

Her name falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Jared, who's leaning against the metal scaffolding near me, hears me say her name and snickers.

"She got a name, boys!" he hollers now. "Bella, oh Bella! Look at those—"

I stand up and fling an arm out to hit him in the chest. Hard.

But it's too late. She's already stopped in place and staring this way because she heard her name.

And she definitely sees me.

Fuck.

The guys are still making lewd gestures and harassing remarks, so I jog over to her, nothing but a flimsy chain-link fence between us.

My eyes discreetly roam over her. Tight black jeans and a loose-fitting top. It's not even that provocative. Nothing that would warrant their fucked-up behavior. They'd probably find vulgar words to toss even at a nun.

The thing is, I fucking know what she looks like under these clothes. They don't. And yeah, all the shit that they're saying is true—she does have nice tits, and yes, her tight ass is mouthwatering—that doesn't make it right to yell that shit at her.

"Hey," I say, clearing my throat. "Sorry about those guys. They're fucking idiots."

"Oh, I know. I walk by here three days a week on my way to work. Get the same warm welcome every single time." She doesn't look put off by it, just… accepting of it, I guess. I kinda hate that.

"You work near here?"

"Across the street. At Fringe."

I peer past her at the shops across the road and see the hair salon right fucking there. I've never noticed it before, but I guess I didn't have a reason to.

There's no way it's gonna go unnoticed ever again.

The guys shout even louder now, more whoops and hollers, maybe because we're still talking.

I'm never gonna hear the fucking end of this.

"Wow. Class acts," she mumbles, shaking her head as her eyes dart over my shoulder.

I pull off my hard hat and scrub a dirty hand through greasy hair before I turn around and catch their offensive gestures.

"Fucking knock it off!" I yell, squinting against the sun. Some laugh. Others disperse. I wait for them to get it together before turning back to Bella.

Traffic and the pounding of a jackhammer fill the silence between us.

"You never texted me back Saturday night," she says, not angry, just curious.

"Ah, yeah. Sorry, I fell asleep." It's mostly true. I don't add that I was second-guessing the shit out of myself. "I should've texted you back, though."

"I mean… I would've liked it," she says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Definitely." She smiles sincerely. "I had fun with you."

"Yeah?" I say again.

Her eyes spark with amusement. "Yes. You're just…" She shrugs. "You're a little bit shy, which I find kinda cute. But you seem genuine and down to earth," she compliments me. "And… I… like the way you stare at me when I'm talking." She says this part quieter, like a confession.

I laugh a little, caught off guard with her openness. "I stare?"

"In a good way. Like you're interested. Like I'm interesting."

"You are." I'm definitely struck by her. I have been since that moment we locked eyes in the bar.

She just smiles wider and waits. Now would probably a good fucking time to ask her out, but a couple passes by her on the sidewalk, their dog getting tangled between Bella's legs. I stand there, watching her laugh and interact with the two strangers, waving off the awkwardness of the moment by petting the dog's head and learning his name.

I'm doing that staring thing she accused me of doing. But it's hard not to just stare and get caught up in her friendliness, her ease.

After a minute, the couple moves along, leaving us alone again. With my hard hat still in my hand, I wipe the sweat from my head with my forearm. Pretty sure I just made my face dirtier, but at least the sweat isn't dripping into my eyes now.

"You pass by three times a week?" I ask, thinking back to what she said.

She nods. "Yeah. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

I scratch the back of my neck and put my hat back on. "Wish I only worked three days a week."

"Well, I work Saturdays, too. It's the only day I walk by the site and don't get harassed," she says then sways in place a little. "I like your… outfit?" She laughs. "Or whatever you call it."

I look down at my dirty Carhartts paired with an orange and yellow safety vest over an old tee.

"I'm a fucking mess."

"It works for you," she murmurs, leaving me speechless.

Her gaze grows heavy, making me think back to the night when she was on top of me.

I don't know what it fucking is about her. Just days ago, I convinced myself this should be nothing. That one and done was enough. And I could've kept it that way, I think. But now that I'm seeing her again, and I know she works right fucking there…

If I believed in signs, I'd say this is one. But I don't. So, I'm not sure what to think, other than I like it.

"I gotta go," she finally says when I still haven't uttered a fucking word. "Don't wanna be late."

I gesture over my shoulder. "Got it. Yeah. Uh, sorry, again—"

"You don't have to apologize for those assholes."

"I kinda do," I mutter. "And sorry for not texting you back."

"We're cool," she says with an easy smile. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah." Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday because I've just decided I'm always gonna take a late lunch, so I can come talk to her. She starts to turn away, but I step closer and weave my fingers through the chain-link fence, giving into my sudden urge to keep her here for another second. "Hey, wait."

She gives me a look. It's open, curious, and a little flirtatious. It makes me feel eager and excited all at once. It's been a long fucking time since I've been caught up in this feeling of wanting to know someone.

"It was good to see you, Bella."

Lame. So fucking lame. Definitely not a smooth line or anything, but she still grins and says "you too" before she walks away.

I watch her cross the road and disappear inside the salon, feeling like I fucking blew it.

And then my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Bella: I lied to you the other night.

I look across the street, even though I can't see her beyond the glass.

Edward: About what?

Bella: When I said I bet you'd look cute in a hard hat. You're actually unbelievably sexy.

I'm fucking grinning at my phone, just like I was when she texted me the other day.

I start to walk back to work, typing out a reply as I go.

I don't overthink it because maybe my mom is right. I deserve to be fucking happy and to feel good. This doesn't have to be a huge thing. I can have something for myself, even if only for a little while.

Edward: When can I see you again?