We finally had a break about a month into school. Labor Day. Talk about a good holiday to have off. After all of the hard work us teachers had put in with our kiddos, this 3-day weekend was well deserved. One evening when I was sitting on my couch watching tv, Eloise walked over and stood in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest.

I hit the pause button. “What’s up, El?”

“That puppy dog boy toy of yours keeps pacing outside our apartment,” she said. “At first I thought it was kinda cute, but he’s been there for like twenty minutes. It’s getting a little weird now.”

I frowned. “What?”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “Yeah. The guy from the bar with the daughter who’s in your class? He’s outside. With flowers.”

I jumped up and ran to the window. Sure enough, Braden was walking around holding a bouquet. “What’s he doing here?”

“Probably wants to see you,” Eloise replied. “Although he should know better considering the way he’s already gotten onto my bitch list.”

A laugh sputtered from my lips. “Your bitch list? Like, the one we used to make about all those mean girls in middle school?”

El nodded. “Yeah. I told him not to hurt you and what does he do? He goes and keeps the fact that he has a daughter from you.” She spread her hands out in front of her as if this made her point clearer. “Bitch list.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “He’s probably scared of you, El.”

“As he should be.” She fished the remote from the sofa then nudged me. “Go deal with him. You know you want to.”

“You say that as if he’s a nuisance,” I muttered but went to pull on a sweater before hurrying outside to meet him. As I got closer, I realized he was murmuring something to himself, as if rehearsing a speech over and over again.

“...and I really, really want us to—”

“You know some people would get the wrong idea seeing somebody pacing outside an apartment complex like this,” I called out.

Braden chuckled, turning around. “I, uh, I wanted to call you but I didn’t exactly know what to say. So I somehow just ended up here.”

I crossed the path to meet him, the damp grass soaking through my shoes. “Why are you here, Braden? You know we can’t…you and I can’t happen.”

“I know. I do. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about what we could’ve been,” he said. “Or could still be.”

I sighed. “Neither can I. But Braden, your ex is suspicious of us. She almost pegged us at the parent-teacher night and all we did was talk. So if she catches us together even casually, she could out us, especially because she is president of the school’s board. And I can’t afford to lose my job.”

Braden shook his head. “Linda is like that. Her bark is worse than her bite.”

“Are you defending her?” I crossed my arms over my chest. It was half from the cold, but mostly from the fact that Braden was clearly still hung up on his ex.”

“Not at all. If it weren’t for Lucy, she and I would’ve cut ties long ago.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was damp as if he’d just taken a shower. Or had a swim.

I bit my lip. I wondered what kind of soap he used. From here, my nose detected hints of lavender and maybe honey? Something sweet for sure.

“Amelia.” Braden’s voice snapped me back to attention where I realized my gaze had wandered away from his face and down his body. His lips twitched into a smile. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

Heat flooded to my cheeks as I refocused my gaze upwards where it belonged. “Sorry. But my point still stands; why are you defending her?”

“I’m not, I just know how she gets. She’s never been one to act on those threats,” he said.

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t mean she won’t.” I sighed. “A lioness does whatever she must to protect her cub.”

Braden took a step forward. “And the king of the jungle defends his woman’s honor.” He tilted my chin up with one finger so I had no choice but to stare into those deep pools of blue. “We can figure out a way to make this work.”

“I wish…if things were different, if I wasn’t your daughter’s teacher, then maybe we’d have an actual chance. Because I really do like you, Braden.” I pushed off of his chest.

He brushed his fingers over my arm, catching my hand in his. “Amelia, we’ve played this game before. We’ve tried not dating, we’ve tried to be friends. None of it is working. Is it working for you?”

I didn’t dignify that with a response, and he took my silence as expected.

“We work well together. And you had no idea Lucy would be in your class when we met. Why punish ourselves for that?”

If the school found out…

Then my phone buzzed. Fishing it out of my pocket, a text glowered at me from the screen.

Goddamn it, Amelia Louise Lawrence. If you don’t say yes to him right now I will come out there and do it myself.

Well, clearly there was only one choice. Even though he hadn’t asked me anything yet.

“Come to my place tomorrow night?” he suggested. “I’ll cook for you. Lucy is at her mom’s so we don’t have to worry about any interruptions. Please?”

Alone together and a homemade meal? That could be a very dangerous combination. On two very opposing fronts.

I looked up at him, my gaze scanning over his hypnotic blue eyes as his thumb drew circles on the back of my hand. A new wave of confidence flowed over me as if washing me anew. “Okay. One night.”

Braden grinned. “Great! I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty and I’ll make my famous chicken enchiladas.”

“I can’t wait,” I replied, and it surprised me that I actually meant it.

***

I never thought I’d be so nervous to go on a date with a cute guy. Then again, I never expected to be going out with the parent of one of my students. Especially after telling myself how much I would regret dismissing the rules like this.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I said as Eloise finished styling my hair the next evening.

“Yes, you should.” Eloise spun me around and planted her hands on my shoulders. “He’s hot and single, and so are you. So what if he has a kid? If you like each other, take your shot. Plus, he’s got some making up to do for the fact that he kept the kid a secret.”

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I sighed. “It’s not that simple, El. In fact, it’s extremely complicated.”

“It’s not supposed to be simple, Ames.” She dug around in her vanity and pulled out a pink tube. “Here—best liquid lip on the planet. And kiss proof.”

“Thanks.” I twisted the cap off and pulled out the applicator.

Eloise crossed her legs beneath her on her bed. “Promise me you’ll have fun tonight?”

I glanced at my sister. For someone as carefree and adventurous as she was, her attitude toward love—the real one, not the one she showed to her barhopping friends—was always one of caution and optimism.

“I’ll try. Promise,” I said.

“Good. Condoms are under the—”

A knock sounded at the door, breaking my sister’s words off mid-sentence.

Thank goodness.

Eloise jumped up from the bed with a squeal then went to answer the door, all mentions of sexual protection vanishing from the room.

I ran after her and grabbed my purse. The last thing I needed was for my twin to scare him off before I had the chance to do it myself. And given her history with interrupting our moments, the sooner I intervened the better.

“Braden, hi,” I greeted him. His crisp white shirt had two buttons undone and his brown hair was carefully tousled, falling ever so slightly into his eyes.

“Good evening, Amelia.” Braden smiled at me then winked at my sister. “Are you ready for the best date ever?”

I smirked. “I’ll be the judge of that. But yes, let’s go.”

Braden grinned. “Yes, let’s.” He turned to Eloise. “I’ll have her home by midnight.”

I rolled my eyes as El called out behind us, “Oh, I don’t expect to see her before noon tomorrow.”

Braden laughed and led me to his car, keeping his hand on the small of my back.

The car ride was silent, save for the soft rock playlist that Braden clicked on to calm the air between us.

Once at his apartment, Braden led me up and unlocked the door.

“Dinner shouldn’t take too long to prepare,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I smoothed down my corduroy skirt and sank into the plush sofa next to the kitchen. “It’s a nice place you have here.”

A clang of metal and then, “Thanks, I make do. Can I get you something to drink while we wait for dinner to cook?”

“I’m good with water, thanks.” I turned around and cupped my chin in my hands, leaning on the back on his sofa. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Braden shook his head. “Nah, but thanks.” He walked over and handed me a glass of water, letting our fingers brush lightly. Then he returned to the stove where a pan began to sizzle and an aroma of chicken wafted through the apartment.

“So, when we first met you told me that you’re a landscape artist and carpenter but your card indicates construction,” I said. “How does that work exactly? Every time I see you, you don’t exactly look dressed for a construction site.”

Braden let out a chuckle. “On the landscape artistry side, I design lawns for upscale rich folk. But my heart lies in sculpture work, although many of my paying sculptures have been topiaries—made from plants—and not crafted from clay or wood which I like to make in my off-time.”

“Is landscape artistry lucrative?” I asked, then immediately kicked myself. “I’m so sorry, that was insensitive. I mean, is it something you get a lot of work from?”

He shrugged. “For most of the year, yes. Winter’s the hardest, but I make do. That’s when I typically turn to other kinds of sculpture and crafting work. So my job really takes me down different avenues depending on the season.”

“Is that when you turn to carpentry?”

Braden nodded, flipping over the strips of chicken as they sizzled in the pan. “Construction is the family business. I work on the carpentry side of things. It helps pay the bills in the colder months.”

“I bet you’re really good with your hands,” I commented.

Braden chuckled, facing the stove.

Oh my God. I cannot believe I just said that!

Before I could correct my mistake, he’d finished cooking the shredded chicken and was scooping it into the tortillas which were warming with melted cheese in another pan on the next burner. With the spatula, he served the quesadillas and brought the plates over to the table.

“Dinner is served,” he announced. “Can I get you anything else?”

I shook my head and smiled. “No, that’s fine. Thank you.” Braden took a seat at the table across from me. “This looks delicious. Are you sure that’s all you do? You should really add ‘chef’ to your resume.”

His face lit up at the comment. “Thanks. Cooking isn’t really my thing though, I have a few dishes I can make but that’s really it.”

I picked up one of the quesadilla slices, the heat warming my fingers as I tilted it toward my mouth. It was the right amount of cheese-to-chicken ratio; the perfect quesadilla.

“You could’ve fooled me. This really is fantastic, Braden.” I took another bite of cheesy goodness.

Braden smiled. “Thank you, Amelia. And, uh, thank you for agreeing to come to dinner tonight. I just…um, well—”

“I know.” I put my fork down. “I think you’re right about what you’ve observed. We didn’t know how our paths would cross again after we met the first time. I think that says a lot. I want to find a way to make this work.”

“Me too.” Braden lifted his glass. “To…figuring out how to make us work?”

I laughed and clinked my drink against his.

Perfect dinner for a perfect date, I thought to myself. It was going well, I had to admit. And I enjoyed his company more which was a surprise too.

After dinner, I offered to help Braden clean up the kitchen.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked as we rinsed the dishes. The sleeves of his button-down shirt were pushed up to his elbows. He handed me a dish to dry.

I nodded. “Yeah, sure thing.” Glancing at the clock above the stove, I chewed on my bottom lip. It was only just after nine and my heart had no intention of going home anytime soon.

“If you want to head back, though, I’ll understand. I know I sort of jumped this whole date on you without any time to process.” Braden glanced at me from his spot by the sink.

“No, it’s not that.” I laid a hand on his arm and smiled. “I’ve just…I need to let myself enjoy this, you know? I really like you Braden, in case that hasn’t been clear.”

He chuckled. “Really? Would’ve never guessed.”

I playfully whacked him with the dish towel. “Anyway. Look, you and me…we’re kind of in two different stages of our lives right now. You have a kid, I’m fresh out of college. As much as I want this, it’s going to take time for me to get used to…us. Especially after—” I stopped, swallowing hard and biting back the last words I almost let slip.

“Your past?” Braden supplied. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I want you to be comfortable around me, Ames, but I know that’s going to take time.”

“Thank you.” My nickname sounded different rolling off his tongue, but I liked it. “I…In time. I think I’m used to getting my hopes up for someone who’s gonna end up leaving me in the end.”

“I won’t do that,” he said, reaching forward and brushing my hair out of my face before catching my hand with his. “I won’t leave you behind.”

Our fingers interlocked, seamlessly falling into place like puzzle pieces. He turned to face me and molded his other hand against my waist. Instinctively, I tucked my other hand around his neck, my fingers teasing the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck.

He swayed us back and forth, hips moving slowly from side to side. There was no music, just the hum of the ceiling fan in the living room.

Braden’s lips quirked into a grin and he let go of my waist, raising our entwined hands above our heads as he spun me round and round.

A laugh bubbled from my mouth and I twirled around and around. In the middle of the kitchen we were no longer teacher and parent; we were simply just a woman and a man. Amelia and Braden.

He pulled me close. I could feel our heartbeats beneath the fabric of our clothes. Braden’s gaze dipped down to my lips before flickering back up to meet my eyes.

I inclined my head slowly. Braden cupped my face in his hands and dipped his lips toward mine.

I closed my eyes. My heart thumped loudly against my chest.

“How about that movie?”

My eyes snapped open and I stepped away from him, letting a groan escape my mouth. “You are such a tease.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Too slow?” he asked.

I laughed. “Maybe a little. But yes, a movie would be nice.” Shifting away from Braden’s warm embrace, I returned to the sofa, tucking my legs beneath me.

Braden joined me a minute later with a beer. He switched on the television and scrolled through to put on a movie. As the beginning credits rolled across the screen, I caught myself glancing over at him. There was a tiny scar on his left cheek and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

I leaned my head against his chest as his arm wrapped around my shoulders. His fingers wove their way through my hair. My eyes slowly fluttered closed, the exhaustion of the last few weeks finally catching up.