Hot Stuff

“Holy shit, Simp, did you see her?”

“I saw her,” Simp says with a tremendously annoying smile. “Good God, did I see her.”

Thomkins, the only guy I’d save in a burning building today, pipes up with the sole sliver of class to be displayed since Lauren left. “Guys, she’s the Cap’s daughter. Take it easy.”

“She’s the Cap’s hot daughter, Thommy. You can’t expect us to ignore that.”

“Sure I can. But I guess my expectations are a little too high for you group of goons today.”

“Hey, nobody said we don’t respect her, Thommykins,” Simp counters, using yet another of Cale Thomkins’s many nicknames. “We’re just appreciating how attractive she is at the same time.”

Cale rolls his eyes, and I scribble a mental reminder to get him a Valentine’s present, the lovable son of a bitch.

“What about you, Alexander?” Evans implores. “What do you think about Dr. Lauren?”

I do my best to control my wince. “She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Simp howls. “Come on, Alexander. You can do better than that.”

“No,” I say, slamming my locker closed. “I can’t. She’s a nice person, and I’m not going to degrade her behind her back, and you guys shouldn’t either.”

“So, what you’re saying is you have the hots for her,” Evans teases, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m saying I have half a mind to call her office and warn them off letting any of you bastards make an appointment with her.”

Thomkins smiles, and I realize I probably should have made a stronger effort to be friends with him before now.

I grab my bag and head out to the yard. Being inside while she’s inside without staring at her makes me feel too much like I can’t breathe. Like I won’t survive.

I open the liftgate of my Suburban and toss my bag inside, close it again, jog to the driver side door, jump in, and slam myself into the peace and solace of being alone.

I close my eyes and rest my head against the headrest before taking a deep breath. I know it’s not the right time—I know it—and yet, it feels like the only way I’ll be able to function at all.

My phone feels heavy in my hand as I take it out of my pocket and pull up a new text box addressed to Lauren. This kind of feels like the cowardly way, texting her while she’s literally in her dad’s office eating lunch, but since she doesn’t want Cap to know about us yet, it’s kind of my only option right now.

The cursor blinks as I type out the first few words and then delete them. I have the urge to apologize, but I know it’s not the right move.

Apologies are empty; actions are what speak.

I have to show her I care. Show her that despite all the hard parts of a relationship with me—and there are a lot—there are good parts too. I have to leave no doubt that I’ll go to more of an effort than any man on the planet, at any moment I get the chance.

I want to earn the honor of her trust and patience. And I will. Starting right now.

Me: I know it’s not the kind of quality time I’d love to get with you, but would you be interested in coming to the zoo tomorrow? I have the kids—which I’m thrilled about since it feels like I haven’t seen them much lately—but I’d really like to see you too. I know you probably have work, but they have the day off for a teachers’ in-service day. Can you take off?

I’m not expecting her to answer right away since I know where she is—what she’s doing—but it’s only a moment before the bubbles that indicate she’s typing appear. I wait.

Lauren: You don’t think it’s too soon for me to meet the kids? I mean, we really just started dating, Garrett.

For me, living in the moment is a necessity, and saying things like too soon are only an excuse. You have to take what you want now. You can’t wait. Too often, in my line of work, it only leads to regret.

Me: You already kind of met them at the diner, remember? I know you weren’t officially introduced, but they’re already a little familiar with you. And we don’t have to tell them we’re dating. We’re just friends. I only want to spend time with you.

Lauren: I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.

I take a deep breath. I want her to come—badly. But not if it’s not something she feels okay about. I won’t put her or my kids through that.

Me: Okay. I don’t want to pressure you. I understand if you’re not comfortable.

Lauren: Ah, hell. Did you have to be so freaking understanding and charming and shit?! NOW I CAN’T SAY NO.

I laugh.

Me: Lauren, it’s okay. You can say no.