Relapse

Her words are eerily similar to Patricia’s.

I sigh, pushing my hair out of my face. “I have my reasons for being cautious and overthinking every little thing.” I debate on continuing for a moment... “I’m not their mom, I’m their aunt,” I confess. “I haven’t had custody of them long and I can’t take the chance of fucking this up. If I do, they’ll go to my mom and that woman is not equipped to raise kids.” I shudder at the thought.

Jamille’s lips purse as she processes the new information. “Oh.” She shakes her head, sending her curls flying. My shoulders relax at how calm she reacts. Why would you expect her to react different about such simple information? “Dating or just fucking around isn’t going to hurt the kids, so I’m sure it won’t affect your custody.” Her brows pull together in confusion and I try to think of how to explain to her that my mother is amazing at twisting something as simple as dating.

Knowing words will never explain my mother, I instead tell her the other reason dating isn’t a good idea for me. “It will put my custody in jeopardy when every relationship of any sort that I’ve been in has ended with someone in cuffs.” My mom won’t have to ruin things if I do it first.

She pauses and a dark look passes through her eyes before she presses her lips tight. “I’ve known your neighbors for a while now, Aiden has been playing for Nathan since he was three, and I can tell you that they are all good people. I don’t know the Emmet guy as well, but I don’t believe Nathan would bring him around the kids if he was a threat or a bad guy. If things end badly between you guys, I think you wouldn’t have to worry about there being any toxicity.” The dark look is still in her eyes, but she tries to cover it with a smile that isn’t quite as bright as what I’m used to seeing from her.

I shrug as I think her words over. “Maybe you’re right, but at the end of the day it was just a spur of the moment thing, nothing more.” The moment wasn’t supposed to happen, it just occurred in the heat of the moment. Before that, I’d only had a handful of interactions with Emmet, so I’m probably just overthinking all of this. But still… “Then there’s the fact that I find Nathan and Chase both attractive too.”

“Don’t we all?” She sits forward. “Date them all.”

“Huh?” I raise a brow at her.

She shrugs, her lips turning up into a mischievous smile that doesn’t look forced this time. “Date them all and then pick one or don’t pick one at all, polyamory is a thing after all. It may take some convincing to get them all on board, but with that many hot men you find a way to make it work.”

I laugh off her idea. “We’re making this bigger than what it is, Jamille. Chase and Nathan have both kind of flirted with me but it’s never been anything more than that. As for Emmet, it was just… a mistake. I’m hoping that we’ll both just act like it didn’t happen and forget about it. Of course things may be a little awkward with Nathan, who saw the hickey on my neck.” I pull the collar of my shirt to the side to show Jamille the fading mark on my neck.

“Hot.” She winks at me. “I can’t remember the last time I had a hickey, maybe college?”

I laugh at that. “Hell, I got kicked out of college.”

“For what?”

I cringe slightly. “For sleeping with my professor.”

Her eyes widen and she leans in closer. “What? You dirty girl, do tell me more.”

I laugh. “I will not.” I glance around the park and my eyes stop on a middle aged woman a bench over who tries to look away when she catches my eyes on her. “I think we’ve entertained the public enough today.”

“Fine, but you’re going to tell me over a cup of coffee when the kids go back to school.”

We switch the topic to lighter subjects and get to know each other better as the kids play. I keep an eye on Lilly but I don’t hover or go over to her when I want to and she seems more than happy to play by herself. The topic of my neighbors doesn’t come up again but I do tell Jamille about my detailed list of past boyfriends who were pieces of shit. She tells me about a couple of her own exes, but noticeably doesn’t mention Aiden’s father and I don’t ask. I tell her a little about Kylie before the tight feeling in my chest, that now accompanies the mention of her, makes an appearance.

Afterwards, we go grab a bite to eat at a restaurant that Jamille says is amazing. I’m not familiar with it since we haven’t been in the area long, but I take her by her word.

I follow her to the restaurant and, when we pull up, the parking lot is packed. I look up at the sign that reads Spice Works. From the outside, I can’t quite tell what kind of restaurant it is, but when I look back at the kids, covered in dirt from the playground, I hope that it’s pretty casual.

We get out of the car and Jamille leads the way inside. In the restaurant, the thick aroma in the air is actually quite familiar, smoked and spicy, but I can’t figure out why.

I’m relieved when I look around to find that it is a casual place. Booths line the walls of the dimly lit place, most of the light coming in from the open windows. Despite the windows being uncovered, it’s actually quite cool, the AC feeling nice after being outside for so long.

“How many?” The hostess asks with a bright smile. She’s young and the black t-shirt with Spice Works written across it in red letters and the black jeans she sports give off a friendly air.

“Five,” Jamille tells her, returning her smile.

“Just this way.” We follow her through the loud restaurant and she glances over her shoulder. “Table or booth?”

Jamille looks at me.

“Booth is fine.”

The woman guides us over to a booth in the corner. It’s one of the circular ones so we place the kids on the inside and sit on the outside seats across from each other. Lilly’s hand instantly goes to the salt and pepper shakers on the tables and I have to wrangle them from her grasp, much to her displeasure. I’m thankful when the hostess pushes a high chair over to the booth and I quickly strap Lilly into it.

“Hello, my name is Rachel and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” The waitress is just as perky as the hostess, her notepad and pen at the ready as she looks at us with bright eyes.

“Lemonade for me and her,” I point to Lilly.