LOGAN

Friday morning is here before I know it. Before I lock up, I pack a weekend bag so I can leave directly after work to pick up Skylar. The day passes without too much bullshit and soon I’m on my way to Santa Rosa. I wait for over an hour in gridlock traffic for nothing. There was no accident, no emergency, just a ton of people traveling from one city to another, but that’s normal in California. My two-hour trip turned into three, and by the time I pull up to Maggie’s, she’s pissed.

“Now you’re cutting into my time,” she says, her face full of makeup and her hair curled. I try to come every other weekend to get Skylar and she takes the opportunity to go out with her friends. I don’t blame her for having a little fun, but I wish she’d realize that she can do these things more often if she’d just allow me to be the dad I want to be.

“I’m sorry, traffic.” I make eye contact with her, but she looks away. Before I can open my mouth and say another word, Skylar bolts past her at full speed and I lift her up into my arms.

“Oh, you’re getting heavy,” I tell her and she giggles.

“We’re going to make a blanket fort like last time, right?” She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes.

“If you want to.” I kiss her cheek and set her down.

“Skylar,” Maggie says firmly. “Go grab your backpack and dance bag.”

She runs as fast as she can back into the house.

“Don’t forget tomorrow the two of you have to be at the rehearsal hall at 2pm. She needs to wear the black leotard with her jazz shoes. Make sure her hair is up and...”

“Maggie, I can do this. I don’t need a set of instructions to take care of my daughter.” The words leave my mouth and her lips transform into a tight, straight line.

“Fine. Don’t bother me tomorrow then. Just please make sure she’s home on time on Sunday.”

“Okay.” We’re at a standstill and the silence between us drives at my nerves. Maggie keeps looking down at her phone as if she’s expecting someone, but I don’t pry. What she does isn’t my business unless it affects Skylar. The minutes tick until Skylar runs out the door to me.

“Give me a kiss bye,” Maggie says and Skylar runs back to her. Maggie smooths the hair down on her head and kneels until she’s eye to eye with Skylar.

“Make sure you’re a good girl for your daddy, okay? If you need anything or if you want to be picked up, just let me know.” Maggie glances past Skylar and looks at me.

She pulls this shit every time as if she’s secretly hoping Skylar will decide she no longer wants to be with me. My heart begins to pound in my chest, and I push back my annoyance and smile instead.

“Okay, Mommy.” Skylar is bouncing and smiling, she’s so excited to be going with me. Maggie watches as I buckle Skylar into her booster seat. I give her a wave before I back out of the driveway, but she doesn’t return the gesture.

I position my rearview mirror where I can see Skylar in the back and she’s talking ninety to nothing about dance and soccer and her friends at school. I try to soak in every moment with her that I can.

“That’s great. So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

“Ice cream!” Skylar yells and giggles, knowing that’s not going to fly. “Cake!”

“Now you’re being silly. What about...pizza?” I ask, knowing it’s her favorite food.

We pull into Chuck E. Cheese’s and her face lights up with excitement. The big mouse logo on top of the building greets me, and I give him a small smile because it’s not our first time here and I’m sure it won’t be our last. Once we enter, she gets her hand stamped and I order a pepperoni pizza and drinks. Skylar is so impatient when it comes to bright colorful games that seem to call her name.

“Come on, Daddy,” she says tugging at my arm after we find a table. “Let’s play games.”

I pull out her game card that allows her to play unlimited amounts of games and she runs straight to a pig with a big mouth. All the pent-up energy she has is being put to good use as she slaps the button to throw balls into the pig’s mouth. Each time she wins tickets, she does a small fist pump and we exchange high-fives. This is the life. This is what I live for and every day for the rest of my life, I will try my damnedest to make this little girl happy.

As I watch Skylar play another race car game, a mom comes closer and starts a conversation with me. She glances down at my hand and I know for a fact she’s looking for a wedding ring because most women do.

“Is that your daughter?” she asks, making small talk, but I’m not here to pick up a date.

“Sure is,” I say with a smile, but I keep it short.

“She’s beautiful.” Her son runs up to her and distracts her. She gives me a wink and hands me her phone number before walking away. I wad it up and throw it in the trash with my empty drink. Honestly, who goes to Chuck E. Cheese to pick up a date? Once Skylar starts yawning, we go to the payout machine and feed in the tickets she won.

“Show me how many tickets you won.” She turns the paper around and is beaming at the number. “Good job, baby. One hundred and thirty-seven.”

I can’t stop smiling as she skips over to the counter. Her eyes light up at all the colorful stickers and toys behind the glass case.

“I want a whistle, airheads, and two vampire teeth,” she tells the attendant. I look down at her the same time she looks up at me, and I arch a brow in her direction.

“Please,” she adds, getting my signal. The teenager hands her all the items and she thanks him as she holds them in her palms.

Handing me the green pair of vampire teeth, she says, “I got that for you, Daddy. Now we can be vampires together.” She smiles wide before placing the pink pair in her mouth. I follow her and stick the green ones in mine and flash her a big, toothy smile. Laughing, she grabs my hand and we walk out to the car.

Before we make it to the hotel, Skylar falls asleep. I pull up to the valet and grab her dance bag and princess backpack and throw them over my shoulder. Once I have everything, I pick her up and carry her to our room.

As quietly as possible, I lay her down on one of the double beds, pull the covers over her, and click the lamp light on. I decide to jump in the shower quick, and as I’m putting on my clothes, I hear Skylar crying. I rush over to her and realize she’s upset.

“Shh,” I try to calm her. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“I had a bad dream,” she says softly.

I sit next to her on the bed and try to comfort her with hugs and bedtime stories. After she’s calm and smiling, she asks to change into her Disney princess gown. Once she’s set and uses the bathroom, I find her toothbrush and toothpaste and hand them to her, reminding her to brush them well. Sometimes she’ll try and say she did to get out of it, so I watch her with a grin. She spits toothpaste in the sink and turns and smiles back at me.

“Okay, Daddy, I’m ready for bed now.”

She climbs into her bed and begins to yawn. I sit next to her and press a kiss to her forehead. I turn on the TV, but keep the volume low on a random cartoon she’ll watch until she falls asleep.

“I love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“I love you, Daddy.” She grabs my hand and my heart breaks just a tiny bit knowing our weekend is so short-lived.

The next morning after waking up, we head downstairs and take advantage of the continental breakfast. Skylar loves the pancake maker and all the different types of syrups. She drinks her orange juice and I had planned to take her to the zoo, but since we have the daddy-daughter rehearsal by two, I decide swimming in the pool would be best.

“Did you pack your swimsuit?” I ask. She nods and her smile lights up her whole face, making my heart melt. Skylar looks a lot like Maggie, but she has my eyes and her personality reminds me of myself when I was her age. The kid is fearless and isn’t afraid to say what she wants or thinks, which can be a good and bad thing depending on the circumstances. She’s also extremely smart. I hope when she’s older, she doesn’t give me hell like I gave my parents, but I’m pretty sure that’ll be inevitable.

After breakfast, Skylar hurries and changes into her swimsuit that looks like a mermaid. When she moves, the light reflects different colors of purple, pink, and greens like scales. After a few hours of swimming I have to practically drag her away from the pool so we aren’t late to rehearsal. She takes a quick bath and gets dressed into her dance gear. I’m not sure what I should wear so I put on a pair of blue jeans, a T-shirt, and some tennis shoes.

“Daddy, you’re going to dance in that?” She snickers and points at my pants.

“I didn’t bring my leotard,” I joke with her and help pull her hair into a tight ponytail on top of her head. Before we go downstairs, I call the valet to bring the car around so we can stop and grab lunch before practice. Making a quick stop at McDonalds, I order a salad and her chicken nuggets and we have just enough time to eat and drive across town before rehearsal starts.

I’ve been to the studio a few times to watch Skylar practice, and I always feel a little awkward. I’m not in any way a deadbeat dad, but the fake smiles and meaningless conversations make me wonder what’s really been said about me. Sometimes I wish I could peel away all the fakeness, but I know it would never happen. The truth is, I left, and I’m sure Maggie told them all I wouldn’t make it to practice. But here I am, proving her wrong, proving that I’ll do anything for my little girl.

After we learn the basic moves, Skylar holds my hand and I know when we’re apart these are the little moments I’m going to miss. She’s all smiles and tells all the little girls in the room that I’m her dad as we break. All the kids run into the hallway to grab water, and the dance teacher sashays toward me.

“I’m happy to see you here Mr. Knight.” She’s being formal and I’m unsure if I should just allow her to continue on, but I do. It’s easy for me to a build a wall around myself and watch my surroundings and she seems to interact with all the parents this way.

“Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” I’m polite but I’m already wishing this conversation was over. The look on her face tells me she’s about to drill me with questions, but just as she opens her mouth to speak, my phone rings and I see it’s Maggie. It’s the first time in a long while that I’m happy she’s called. I smile at the teacher and she takes her cue to walk away.

“Hey,” I say quietly not trying to draw attention to myself.

“Just making sure you made it to practice. I know how traffic seems to stop you from being on time regularly.”

I push down my annoyance and smile. “Yep. We’re here now. We’re going to go through the routine a few more times then we’ll be out of here.”

“Great. I was thinking I’d pick up Skylar after.”

My face tightens, and I don’t like where this is going. “Why? I’ve got her this weekend.”

“My parents want to see her since they’re in town.”

“Okay, well I’m her father and I’m in town. You can take her to see them next weekend.”

“I’ll be there in the next thirty minutes, Logan. Please don’t cause a scene when I get there,” she says sternly.

The kids start feeding into the room, and I walk down the hallway for a little privacy. “I barely get to see her and then you pull this shit. This is really low. And her clothes are at the hotel. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“Plans change, Logan. If anyone knows that, you should. Feel free to drop her clothes off before you head back to Sacramento. I’ve gotta go.” Maggie hangs up.

I jog back down the hallway into the room where the whole class is impatiently waiting for me. I apologize and we start the dance routine immediately. I try to wear a smile for Skylar’s sake, but it’s so hard knowing our weekend is being cut short. Once class is over, Maggie walks in and acts so fake that it drives at my nerves.

“Come on, Skylar, we’re going to see Grannie and Papa,” Maggie says. Skylar immediately starts to revolt. She runs to me and grabs my hand, which I know Maggie hates.

“Come here right now,” Maggie demands.

“No!” Skylar yells and it’s quickly becoming a scene in front of the other dance parents.

I kneel until I’m eye to eye with her and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Skylar,” I say softly, “listen. Grannie and Papa really, really want to see you today.”

“But we were supposed to build a blanket fort and eat ice cream.”

My heart is tearing in two. I fucking hate this. “I know and I pinky promise next time we’re going to. But you have to go with your mom. Okay?”

At first, she doesn’t answer, but then she slowly nods and wraps her arms around my neck and I give her a hug. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Daddy. I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, baby.”

I stand up and look at Maggie and the distaste in my demeanor is not lost on her. Taking every extra moment I can, I walk Skylar to Maggie’s car and buckle her in. I give her another hug and make promises I intend to keep. After I shut the door, I walk around to Maggie before she can get in the car.

“Here’s the deal. You find a job in Sacramento and move closer to me and our parents or I will call my lawyer. I’m not playing this game anymore, and before you start, this isn’t a threat. So, figure out the time line and let me know when you’re moving. The sooner, the better.”

I don’t give her a second to respond before I walk away. Right now, I’m so furious that my precious time with Skylar was stolen that I can barely think straight.

––––––––

KAYLA

It’s been almost a week since the kiss that saved me from one of the worst dates I’ve ever had, and I still feel it lingering on my lips. I know it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but I can’t get it out of my mind. The way his hand greedily touched my cheek, the way his body pressed against mine, and the way his mouth captured mine. It’s not something a girl like me easily forgets when it’s with a guy like Logan Knight. And my body certainly as hell hasn’t forgotten it either. Just thinking about it and picturing it in my mind sends shivers down my spine.

Walking into work, I’m greeted by my co-worker, Lucy. She’s holding a mug the size of her head filled with hot coffee, as she does every morning, but the messy topknot on her head is a new look.

“Rough night?” I inquire as we both step onto the elevator.

She snorts. “Rough weekend.”

Laughing, I press the button to our floor and watch as she hangs onto the railing.

“So that must be what a social life looks like.” I sigh.

“Or wild sex,” she blurts out, perking up.

I pretend to gag at her amazing sex life. Considering the last guy I dated, Tyler and I didn’t have a great sex life, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had wild sex, or just good sex in general. He was a decent guy, but there were no sparks there. I didn’t want to lead him on any longer into thinking my feelings matched his when they didn’t.

“Please, spare me the details,” I say, dryly. “I’ve had nothing but one failed date after another, and I’m ready to just call it quits. I’m going to be that old lady who dies in her house with her seventeen dogs and no one even notices because they end up eating my corpse.”

“Geez, Kayla.” She flashes me a look. “A little morbid for eight a.m. on a Monday, don’t ya think?”

I sigh and blow out a slow breath. “Sorry. I’m PMSing. Doesn’t help that I’ve legit had zero success on that stupid dating website. Either it’s broken or I am.”

The elevator doors open and we both walk toward our offices.

“Don’t worry, Kay. The right guy will come along.” She flashes a genuine smile and even in her sex-crazed daze, she sounds sincere.

I huff at her words, because I don’t believe them for a second. “Easy for you to say.  You’re married to the perfect guy.”

She releases a slow sigh and her lips part in a giddy smile. “Yeah, he really is perfect. His hair. His lips. His abs. His co—”

“Okay!” I interrupt. “I get it. He’s Mr. Wonderful.”

“Oh, stop it. Whatever happened with Mr. Knight in shining armor?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

I told Lucy about our impromptu kiss last weekend and she knows all about our nonrelationship relationship since the day Logan and I met. I’ve told her little details about how I thought maybe something could form between us and how he’d slow danced with me at the wedding and how it was much more than just two friends dancing, yet he refuses to date. She thinks it’s because he swings for the other team, but knowing what I know now, I’m pretty sure it’s because of his daughter.

Speaking of which, I need to text Courtney and update her. She’s still in Hawaii, but they come back in a few days, and I’ll need to catch her up pronto.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to show him what he’s missing.” She winks as she slows her pace and stops in front of her office.

I head down to my office and decide I should text Courtney although she won’t get it until she lands on Thursday.

I smile as I hit send and turn on my computer. My work back load is ridiculous right now and taking those few days off the other week only added to it. I create a checklist for myself so I can have the satisfaction of marking off tasks although it’s going to be a mile long before the day is over.

By lunchtime, I’m starving and have checked four lousy things off my list. Lucy and I meet for a quick bite in the shopping center next to our office building.

“If I have to do another bedroom makeover for a spoiled teenager’s sweet sixteen, I’m going to vomit all over their Prada shoes,” I groan as we take our seats.

“Hey now. Leave Prada out of this,” she tells me seriously.

I snort and roll my eyes. “I love my job, I do. But there are days that make me second-guess my decision.”

“Are you sure that’s not the PMS talking?” she teases.

I throw a French fry at her. “Oh, more than likely, but I really am annoyed with all these kids getting bedrooms that cost more than my entire house, car, and life savings. Like what happens when they move out? Or go to college? You did all that for two years of use?”

“You’re giving it way too much thought. Trust fund babies live at home until they get their trust funds—usually at twenty-one or twenty-five—and then take everything with them to their new penthouse.”

I frown. “That’s even more depressing.”

She pats me on the shoulder with a snarky grin. “Chin up, buttercup! These Prada-wearing rich teenyboppers are what keep us in business.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groan.

When I first decided to go to school for interior design, it was because I loved the thrill of putting something new together. It felt like art to me. Taking a blank canvas and designing it to fit the person’s personality. Every new canvas is a challenge and I love that aspect of the job. Nothing’s ever the same. Every client is different, which keeps my job interesting. Lately, my passion for animals and volunteering at the shelter weigh heavy on my mind. I believe working with animals is my true calling, but if all I can offer is my volunteer services to wash dogs, play with them, and help find them new homes, then I’m okay with that for now.

Once Lucy and I finish lunch, we head back to our building, and I’m surprised when I see a vase of flowers and a small box sitting on my desk.

“For a girl with crappy dating skills, you sure got some nice flowers,” Lucy says, following me in. “Who are they from?”

I’m wondering the same thing.

“I have no idea. It’s probably a misdelivery,” I say, jaded.

“Read the card, dummy.” She picks it off the card holder and hands it to me.

Grabbing it from her, I try and think of who would’ve sent me these. After the way my date with Fred ended, I’d highly doubt they’d be from him.

Sorry to hear about your lady troubles.

Hopefully chocolates and flowers cheer you up!

-Logan

P.S. I think you meant to text Courtney ;)

“Oh my God,” I mutter, staring at the words on the card. “Oh. My. God.” I close my eyes

“What is it?” Lucy asks, but I ignore her as I dig around for my phone.

Searching through my text messages, I see the message I sent to Logan instead of Courtney. He was the last person I texted and without thinking I clicked on it and started rambling off about my period like a crazy person.

“Oh my God,” I whine as I sit down in my chair. “They’re from Logan,” I tell her.

“Really?” Her eyes widen and her lips part in a smile.

I hand her the card and within seconds, she bursts out laughing.

“This is not funny.” I scowl at her. “I sent this whole long message to Courtney about PMSing and how crappy I feel, except I texted it to Logan.” I slam my head into my desk and groan.

“This is pure fucking gold.” She continues laughing at my humiliation.

“Do you understand why I suck at dating? I texted the one guy I’m interested in about my bleeding uterus.” I lift my head and see she’s narrowing her eyes at me.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Kay.” She’s shaking her head at me, pursing her lips together as she fails to hold in more laughter. “At least he was thoughtful enough to send gifts.”

“I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.”

“Stop being dramatic. He obviously found it funny and wanted to make you feel better,” she says sincerely, but I’m too mortified to take her seriously. “Maybe he’s not as off the market as you think?”

Doubt it.

Once I finally get her out of my office and can be humiliated privately, I text Logan in hopes of redeeming myself.

I’m practically swooning in my office chair just from reading his words. I hear his deep, gravelly voice in my mind, and it takes all my willpower to put my phone down and get back to work.