Page 23 of Every Time We Touch

“Yeah.” I’m glad I have Dad to discuss this with. He’s always been a level-headed guy, generous with good advice. Maybe Clancy’s the lucky one as well. Maybe they lucked out finding each other. Maybe I should be happy for them.

But I can’t. There’s still something about them being together that doesn’t sit right with me.

Chapter 12

Clancy

Eric and I spent Sunday running after three small children at Disneyland. Hearing them call my date ‘Grandpa’ for the better part of the day did give me pause, making it impossible to forget our age difference. It also made me wonder if me dating Eric is some sort of subconscious reaction to my father’s new marriage.

Come Monday, despite my superior level of physical fitness, I feel more Eric’s age than my own. Who knew kids could be so exhausting? Does my dad really want another? At least Eric doesn’t have to worry about that with me.

When the couple I teach at noon cancels last-minute, I happily take the extra rest for my body. Although, despite my fatigue, it’s hard for me to sit still. Because there’s something else on my mind—something I should perhaps deal with head-on. Maybe this unexpected free time should be spent on making something crystal clear to myself.

I text Jen to ask if she’s free for lunch. I know a great place to take her to. She responds within five minutes, saying:

Yes, please. Dying to get out of the office.

My two reasons for inviting Jen to lunch at an amazing Peruvian restaurant are, unfortunately, diametrically opposed.

I like her. But I also respond to her in a manner that isn’t always appropriate. I want to establish us as friends. I need to etch that into my wayward brain before our next lesson. If I can’t stop flirting with her, no matter how innocent, I may have to tell her I can’t teach her any longer. I can always come up with an acceptable excuse, like time constraints, but I would really prefer not to have to lie to one of Eric’s children.

I wait for her on the leafy patio in the back and, as I see her walking toward me, I feel something that I don’t always feel when Eric’s headed toward me. This zing in my belly. A fizz in my brain. Like the sun finally breaking through parting clouds.

Jen bends toward me for a kiss on the cheek. I allow myself a short but intoxicating inhale of her perfume, before I pull myself together. “I love this place,” she says.

“You know it?” Most people I bring here have never heard of Venice’s best kept secret, but Jen has worked in the neighborhood for a while.

“Yeah. A coworker introduced me to it. I stop by often on the way home for the chicken in green sauce.”

“Damn. I was hoping to surprise you.” I give Jen a once-over. Her hair is loose and she’s dressed very casually in jeans and an oversized sweater. Her light-blue eyes are hard to look away from—again.

“You have surprised me,” Jen says. “By inviting me to lunch.”

“Just, um, making an effort with the kids,” I say. That couldn’t make me sound more like her potential new stepmom if I tried.

“Are my sisters and brother coming as well?” The grin on her lips tells me that she is not expecting any of her siblings to join us. My plan, which was fatally flawed from the start—just an excuse to meet up with Jen—is already failing spectacularly.

I smile and shake my head. “Only my best new dance student.”

“Oh, god. I could barely move on Thursday. I had to take the elevator to go between single floors because going down the stairs was pure torture.”

“It won’t be like that every week.” I have to chuckle.

“You promise?” She looks me in the eye.

“You have my word.”

Marisol, the owner, comes over to take our order. She looks from me to Jen, trying to figure us out. She’s usually not a woman of few words, but she keeps whatever she’s thinking to herself.

Jen and I both order the chicken with green sauce, the specialty of the house. Jen asks for a beer while I stick to water. I have more classes later today.

“How was your weekend?” Jen asks. “Dad said you were taking the little monsters out.”

Good. Let’s talk about Eric. That should do the trick. “They’re adorable but exhausting,” I say.

Jen nods. “I love them to pieces, but I’m definitely the kind of auntie who’s more than happy to return her nieces and nephews to their parents at the end of the day.” When she smiles, there’s an asymmetry to her lips that catches my attention every time. She fixes her gaze on me. “Can I ask you about kids?”

“There’s not that much to ask,” I say. “I don’t have any and don’t plan on having any either.” I shrug. “You?”