Page 82 of Single Daddy Scot
No, because it didn’t happen exactly as I told her it had. And returning to London hadn’t been a case of running away from my heartbreak. More a realisation that I couldn’t escape from myself. That I was the one who had to change.
And we’re back to my bloody dance class again.
‘Who said I like him?’
‘Because A, you haven’t run away yet.’
‘Run—’
‘And three, you’re a wreck.’
‘This is what I do. I cry.’ My shoulders rise and fall in defeat.
‘Did you cry like this when it fell apart withHenri?’
No, because it didn’t happen exactly like I told her it had. And returning to London hadn’t been a case of running away from my heartbreak. More a realisation that I couldn’t escape from myself. That I was the one who had to change.
And we’re back to my bloody dance class again.
Only, any change I’ve undergone is more to do with Mac than any dance class or club. The way he touches me and the responses he wrings from me? I’ve never felt desire like this before. The man plays my body like I’m a finely tuned instrument and he’s the maestro.
If I performed well at all tonight—if I’ve an increase in my confidence at all, it’s because of the way he makes me feel.Like a grown up. Desirable. Sexual.
‘Something must be keeping you from buggering off, other than my company and my very comfy sofa. He might be a douche whatshisface, but he must’ve done something right.’
He asked me to meet his parents. Told me he no longer loves Fin. And is the nicest man I’ve met in forever. Well, once I got past the gruff veneer.
Those things he said in the back lane? They aren’t the Mac I know. He’s a man who does what’s right, not what’s convenient. A man who rearranged his life for his son. Not a hater, or a misogynist, or ridiculously possessive. Okay, maybe the last one he is. Just a smidge. But the rest? That wasn’t him.
How he reacted was legitimate. I hid the show from him. Kept him in the dark about my dance class. About my ridiculous reasons for doing this—and they were ridiculous. And just like that, I’m crying again.
‘He’ll regret it. You’ll be the one that gottaway.’
‘But I don’t want to get away. I want to get back.’ The realisation doesn’t help. In fact, it makes me feel worse.
‘Nup. All you need is a glass of wine and a fewcome to Julesmoments. And ice cream and a little man hating. Oh, and some pizza. I could totes go for some pizza right now. Tomorrow, you’ll be seein’ things much more clearly.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right.’
‘Thas a girl.’ She yawns. ‘You order some pizza, and then we’ll discuss men, the bloody bastards.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ I say as her eyelids flutter closed. ‘You have a snooze, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Swinging my legs from the sofa, I sit upright and swipe my phone from the coffee table.
She’s right. Tomorrow is another day. Tonight, I need to put things right.
