Single Dad by Noelle Adams

Author:Noelle Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: single father, no strings attached
Publisher: Noelle Adams
Published: 2019-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

WE SPEND THE WHOLE weekend together. And then we keep getting together every other weekend for two months—every time Freddie is with her mother.

I don’t see him much otherwise, especially after the semester ends and his Tuesday evening class is over. But he texts me a lot and calls me regularly, so I know that I’m on his mind sometimes in between our weekends together.

He’s on my mind a lot.

I do a good job keeping it in perspective, however. I’m having a good time. I get an A in my graduate course, and I start a new class for the summer term. I hang out a lot with May since she’s my only local friend who isn’t yet coupled up. I start looking at houses for rent.

I’m not backsliding into my old habits. I’m being who I want to be. And I’m also having really great sex every other weekend.

There’s nothing in the world wrong with that.

On a Saturday evening at the end of June, I’m more than halfway through my weekend with Max, and I’m at the point where I realize we only have one more night and morning together, and I hate the thought of it being over so soon.

I try not to think that way. I try to just enjoy the time we spend together. But I’ve got that little twist in my gut of reluctance about the weekend being over soon.

Maybe it’s a warning sign, but it’s not enough of one for me to take any action.

At the moment, we’re fixing dinner together, so I push the silly thought from my mind.

He spent the night with me last night, and we had a leisurely morning, eating breakfast in bed and then taking a long walk together. We went grocery shopping in the afternoon because I needed food for next week, so we picked out dinner for tonight while we were there. He’s making parmesan risotto and roasting shrimp in the oven, and I’m making a little salad for the side.

We’ve already opened a bottle of pinot grigio, and I’m excited for the food. It already smells delicious.

“You didn’t tell me you were a good cook,” I say as I chop up a cucumber. I’m tempted to speed up my chopping so I look like I know what I’m doing, but the thought of accidentally cutting off my finger is enough for me to resist the impulse.

“I’m not that good.” He’s wearing a blue T-shirt with a corporate logo on the back and a pair of worn khakis. He’s barefoot, and his hair is kind of wild since it air-dried after his shower this morning.

He’s utterly irresistible. I have to make myself focus on my cucumber and not go over and squeeze him hard.

“That risotto looks pretty good to me. I’d have to find a recipe and follow it step by step.”

He laughs and stirs his pot. “That’s what I did at first. I don’t have any particular flair for cooking, but I always did most of the cooking, even when I was married, so I had to figure things out.

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