Gentleman Sinner

I look down with a frown, reminded that my chest is still wrapped in a baby carrier. I join him in his amusement, the irony not escaping me. ‘Hey, how’s Jess?’

‘Annoying,’ he answers curtly. ‘As always.’

I laugh, deep and low, making for the exit. There’s another love-hate relationship. The two have never gotten things on. It’s frustrating for everyone who shares company with them. The chemistry is as strong today as it was when they met, but both refuse to act on it. I have no clue why. ‘Tell me—’

His hand comes up quickly and silences me. ‘I’ve already told you, I don’t know whether I want to fuck her or strangle her most. It’s taking me a while to figure it out.’

‘Both?’

He turns and walks away from me, tired of the conversation again. ‘She rubs me up the wrong way.’

‘You and Jess are Lola’s godparents. You have an obligation to get along.’

He scoffs and pushes his way out of the cage. ‘I get along with her just fine.’ He turns and holds the door open for me. ‘As long as I don’t look at her.’

I smirk at him as I exit, taking another quick peek at my watch. Six o’clock. Time to go pick up Izzy. ‘I’ll catch you later.’ I make my way back to the house in search of my girl, my pace quickening the closer I get. I can feel her in my bones.

I spot Mum bouncing Lola on her hip as Jefferson fusses over my daughter. I swear, the girl has turned the whole house into an institute of pussies. Lola must sniff me out, because her little head darts towards me as I make my way over, ready to claim what’s mine. She beams at me, so pleased to see me again. ‘Come to Daddy.’ I take her from Mum’s hold. ‘Time to pick Mummy up.’

Jefferson holds out her pink blanket and coat. ‘There’s a chill in the air tonight.’

‘Seat?’ I ask, being immediately presented with Lola’s car seat by Mum. Crouching, I settle Lola in the chair and strap her in.

‘I don’t know how you think you’re going to manage when you move out,’ Mum muses, placing Lola’s blanket over her lap and tucking her in. I flick her a tired look out of the corner of my eye. It’s a statement she makes daily. She knows I’ll manage just fine. She’s just sulking because she won’t have constant access to Lola when she’s at work.

‘We’ll be okay.’

‘And it’s not healthy having her permanently strapped to your chest. She’ll start to get separation anxiety.’ She reaches for the carrier still attached to me and tugs a little. ‘Are you going to take this off?’

‘No.’ I take the handle of Lola’s seat and rise. I don’t know if I’ll get it back on again. ‘See you later.’ I wander out and find my car waiting, the passenger door open, ready for me to load Lola in. She’s secure on the front seat in a few easy seconds, and after kissing her forehead, I make my way round and jump in.*‘Shall we wait here, or shall we go find her?’ I ask Lola when we pull up outside the college. She starts thrashing in her seat, arms and legs kicking out, and I nod in agreement. ‘Good choice.’

I jump out and round the car, unclipping her from her seat and feeding her legs through the holes on her carrier, which is still attached to my front. Once she’s safely in position, we go on our way, the invisible pull leading me to Izzy getting stronger the farther into the college we go. Lola’s little hands are wrapped around each of my index fingers, squeezing, her excitement growing.

Every person who passes us as we weave through the corridors to the lecture hall has dopey eyes, all of them cooing and sighing when they see us. My chest swells with a pride so rich, it makes me wonder how I got by without this unbelievable sense of contentment in my life. I feel so complete. So fulfilled and lucky. I smile in return at all of them, but I don’t stop for them to swoon all over my little girl. I march on my way, eager to find my other girl.

We reach the lecture hall, and I deflate a little when I see the door still closed. A quick check of my watch tells me we’re five minutes early. Unable to resist, I peek through the glass of the door, spotting her immediately among the dozens of medical students. She’s relaxed back in her chair, a pad on her lap, a pen held at her mouth, chewing as she listens closely. My heart does a little gallop and an inappropriately timed surge of heat rushes south.

‘Damn, your mummy is a vision.’ I sigh, and Lola shouts her agreement. ‘Shhh,’ I hush. ‘We need to be quiet. She’s not done.’ Lola squeals her objection, bouncing on my front. I laugh under my breath and watch Izzy concentrating on the guy up front pointing to pictures of balls and lines on the board. Genes and blood cells, I think Izzy told me, or some complex stuff like that. She seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. I, however, didn’t have the foggiest idea what all the medical jargon that spilled from her mouth meant. Though I did pay attention and expressed my interest.