Only One Kiss (Only One 1)

“Did you now?” Candace says, turning in my arms. I feel her hands go to my waist. I stand now, holding onto Ari with one hand. Candace stands, too, and I swear I see her nipples through that white bikini top that I’m going to fucking burn tonight. Her hands don’t leave my waist. “I missed you, too,” she whispers, and I swear if it were up to my cock, he would be joining this party. “I kept thinking . . .” She stands right in front of me now, pressing herself into me. “About tonight.”

“Did you?” I ask, one hand holding onto Ari while the other grabs her ass, squeezing it. “Rule number five,” I say, leaning down close to her ear. “You are to never wear this out of the bedroom.” I nip her earlobe. “Or I’m going to make this ass sting.”Chapter 27Candace“Where the hell is my phone?” I search and walk toward where the ringing is coming from. “I’m coming,” I say to the person who has called me twice in a row now, yet I still haven’t found it. I toss the clothes that are all over my bed and finally find it right when it stops ringing.

Looking down, I see I missed a call from Layla, so I call her back right away, and she answers on the first ring. “Well, well, well,” she sings. “Look who is alive.”

I laugh at her. “What are you talking about?” I fold the clothes on my bed now.

“I haven’t heard from you in forever.” I roll my eyes at the exaggeration.

“I spoke to you two days ago,” I remind her.

“You spoke to me six days ago when you had shit all over you and a screaming child,” she reminds me, and I stop folding midway.

“No,” I say, thinking back. “I’m sure that was two days ago.”

“Do you even know what day it is?” She laughs.

I start to count the days in my head. “It’s Friday.” My hand falls in my lap. “Shit, sorry it’s been a crazy week.”

“You don’t say.” I hear the tapping of a pen.

“Yeah, we finally got the babysitter down.” I smile when I think about how amazing Bernadette is. I’m not going to lie; I was on the fence even though I know she came highly recommended, and she was amazing with Ari. She took care of her, but I was so scared that Ari wouldn’t feel comfortable, but thirty minutes in, I knew she was the best thing for her. She had a way to hold her when she got whiny, and she made her smile all the time, and she sang to her all the time. I’m not even going to deny that I put a baby cam into the house so I can watch her.

“We?” She chuckles. “So we are a we now?”

“I mean, we are spending time together,” I start to say, and she groans. “Okay, fine, I like him.”

“What are we, in middle school?” Layla says. “Did you bang him yet?”

“No,” I answer, shocked, and it’s her who gasps out.

“You’ve been with him for two weeks now,” she says.

“I have not been with him for that long,” I say, thinking. “I mean, we’ve been—”

“Listen, it’s been longer than a week.” She points out, making me think about how long it’s actually been. “Regardless, have you done anything?”

“I mean we’ve made out,” I say, and I smile. We’ve spent night after night making out on my couch or his couch. Actually, yesterday he spent the night after we fell asleep on the couch and only woke at five a.m. when Ari cried. At that point, it was silly for him to leave.

“Oh my God, you are in middle school.” I can see her now with a disgusted face on her. “You need to get in there and ride the D.”

“Oh my God, why are we even having this conversation?” I ask, and I don’t wait for her to answer. “Is that what you were calling for?”

“Well, it was for that and also to pick a date to go shopping for the gala.” I close my eyes, inwardly swearing to myself. How could I have forgotten about the gala next week? It’s a gala that brings in money for kids to get lunch at school. Something that I didn’t even think about until Manning joined forces with it.

“I think Zara sent me a couple of choices,” I say. “I can send you the pictures, and you can choose.”

“That would be even better,” she says. “Are you bringing a plus one now that you are a we?”

“I don’t know,” I answer her, and then I hear the doorbell. “I wonder if he even wants to go.”

“Well, either way, I’ll be your wingman,” she says, and the doorbell rings again.

“You mean, I’ll be your wingman until you get your prey and then leave.” I laugh and open the door and stand here open-mouthed. “Um, can I call you back?” I don’t even wait for her to answer before my hand comes down. “What are you doing here?” I ask Ralph as he stands there dressed in jeans and a white polo, holding a bouquet of pink peonies in his hand.