Page 40 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
Mia nods dramatically. "I know! I wanna make you look way, way, wayyyy more handsome!"
I blink. “Mia, sweetheart, listen. I don’t think…”
She pouts.
Big, puppy-dog eyes.
Lord help me.
“I really wanna make you look more handsome,” she says sweetly, already holding up a red crayon. Waiting.
Trapped.
This is it.
I glance at Nico, hoping for backup. He’s zero help, completely focused on his Lego set.
“I just wanna make you way, way, way more handsome,” Mia coaxes.
I exhale in defeat. “Fine.”
“YAY!”
Before I know it, I’m sitting on the floor, letting my four-year-old ‘beautify’ me while I help Nico put together a Lego spaceship.
“Daddy, stay still,” Mia scolds, holding my face like a professional artist. “Beauty takes time.”
I sigh. “Yeah, well, so does dignity.”
My mom chuckles from the couch. “You’re a good dad, Blake.”
I smirk. “Don’t say that yet. Let’s see what I look like first.”
Halfway through, Mia pauses, tilting her head. "You know, Daddy, red really suits you."
I sigh. "I regret everything."
Mia giggles as she goes in with the blue crayon.
God help me.
By the time I escape the house, and make it to The Rustic Roost, it’s already 6:25. I push through the doors and the familiar scent of beer, grilled food, and smoke hits me instantly.
The place is packed as usual - warm lighting, the hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter filling the air.
As I weave through the crowd, I spot my friends at our usual table near the back. Keith is the first to see me, raising a brow as I approach.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” he drawls.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, guys.” I clap Keith’s shoulder in greeting before sliding into the empty seat.
Jason smirks. “Late and apologizing? How will you make it up to us? Are you buying us all dinner?”
“Don’t push your luck,” I mutter, flagging down a waitress to order a drink.
Tomas leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “What held you up?”
I sink into the chair with a dramatic sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Oh, you know, just the usual. Had my face made up like an art project, then I was forced into a tutu and made to do the Moana dance - full performance, mind you. And since Nico didn’t want to be left out, he decided to be Spider-Man and spent the rest of the evening climbing the furniture and shooting ‘webs’ at me."
