Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Hello! That’s what being a kid is. And now I really want a disco ball,” Luna says, clasping her hands together as she turns to me, batting those big brown eyes. “Can I get a disco ball for the ceiling, Dad?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. But it’s hardly a no. It’s more like how can I say no to you? When I let go, I look at Sabrina with a playful accusation. “Look what you’ve unleashed.”
But Sabrina has no remorse. She points to me. “You unleashed it. You put the stars on the ceiling first.”
Luna shimmies her hips. “I guess that means I can get a disco ball!”
“Why do I feel like I’m outnumbered already?” I ask.
“Because you kind of are,” Luna says, grabbing Sabrina’s arm in solidarity.
“She speaks the truth,” Sabrina says.
Parker cuts in. “I think there’s one set of stars that needs to be adjusted.” He points toward Orion’s Belt. At least, he’s told me it’s Orion’s Belt. “There are a couple extra stars and they need to be moved.” His brow knits. “I can do it.”
But he’s a little afraid of heights. I go to intervene, but before I can, Sabrina pops up. “I’ll do it,” she says, and my body heats with warmth that she knows so much about my son already.
In no time, she climbs the ladder, stretches her arms toward the ceiling, and everything starts to rise.
And I do mean everything.
I clear my throat, cough, then make up an excuse about needing a drink. I exit the room so I can cool the fuck off. My chest is a furnace. My skin is sweltering. She is too much.
Down in the kitchen, I fill a glass with tap water and pace. This is the occupational hazard of wanting to bang your nanny: the risk of getting turned on around your kids.
I add ice cubes to my water and consider putting them down my pants.
But the potential deflation is achieved faster than I’d expected. Hell yes. I’ve still got good dick control.
When I head back upstairs, Sabrina is stretched out on the carpeted floor next to Parker and Luna, all staring at the ceiling, arms parked behind their heads.
“Dad, come look,” Luna says. “We can figure out exactly where my disco ball should go by studying how everything looks.”
“Your room will never be as cool as mine,” Parker says.
“I bet it will,” Luna says.
“I bet it won’t,” he replies.
It’s not one-upmanship, it’s just basic teasing, and I love that they do that with each other.
“Siblings,” I say to Sabrina, like what can you do.
“I wish I had a brother or sister,” she says, a little wistfully.
“You sure about that?” Luna teases.
“You’d want a brother. One as cool as me,” Parker says.
I kneel down to ruffle his hair, but inside my heart tugs for what Sabrina missed out on. For the little comments about how she grew up—with strictness, and rules, and little support. For what her parents are like.
Luna pats the floor, but the only open spot is next to Sabrina. I lie down and my hand brushes hers. I swallow, fighting off the chills that race through me, ignoring the way my skin buzzes, doing my best to stay in this family moment.
This is what matters. She’s good with the kids. That is all that matters.
Even though I understand now why I was so excited to learn that she made her own costumes. Because I like learning everything about her. Because I fucking like her. More than I did a week ago, a month ago, at the start of the year.
And that is getting to be a problem.
But my neck’s a problem too, so I keep rubbing at the knot. Or trying to.
Sabrina’s studying me with those pretty blue eyes of hers. “You know, I have a Theragun if you want to use it.”
I have my own, but I say yes so fast. Because accepting her offer means I can follow her downstairs to her place. Where my restraint will be legendary. This will be the perfect test of my dick control and I’ll ace it.
I tell the kids it’s time for a reading break, and since both are voracious readers, they happily grab books and settle into their favorite reading spots.
I head downstairs with Sabrina. Once I make it to her apartment, my gaze drifts immediately to the corner where she has a purple yoga mat set up.
“Are you doing yoga every day?”
“Yes, Renaissance daddy,” she says.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was checking up on you.”
She gives a playful little shrug. “Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t.”
Is she being flirty? Or am I far too hopeful?
And the answer is, I’m far too hopeful, because whatever that was ends as she heads to her bedroom. And immediately, I’m wondering what it’s like in there. I want to peek around the corner, see her in her element.