Page 17 of Crushing On Dad's Best Friend
Liam
I wasn’table to get Katherine alone after the tennis court. Ever since then, I’ve been swimming through a fog, unable to get her off my mind. After dinner I wanted to talk to her, but I wasn’t able to grab her. Later, I’d planned to knock on her door to ask her to join me for a drink down by the pool, and was disappointed to find that she was spending the night in her sister’s room and was absolutely forbidden from leaving. It was the bride’s wishes, so I had tocomply.
This morning, she was being pulled in a million different directions. Her sister needed her for sisterly support. Her mom needed her for pictures. I needed her most of all, and I wasn’t even able to tell herthat.
I finally got to see her walking down the aisle, her long brown hair falling in glossy waves down her back. Her dress was navy blue, the top part draped with silky straps that cascaded down her shoulders and a slim skirt that hit just below her knees. The shoes were strappy and I think they were supposed to mimic how sexy lingerie hugs a woman’s curves, the straps barely-there whispers of white with a high arch and a skinny heel. Katherine’s curves were on full display in her dress, her modest breasts held up like two teardrops and her ass and hips flaring out from her smallwaist.
The ceremony was beautiful, but Katherine was the most stunning thing of all. I couldn’t take my eyes off my woman. The way she was enraptured by her sister and new brother-in-law. The way she seemed to be completely focused on the ceremony, even as she snuck peeks atme.
“More wine?” Katherine asks, noticing my emptyglass.
“Thank you,” I say, sliding my glassover.
Her mom didn’t just pair us up for tennis; she also seated us next to each other for the reception. It’s perfect. I get to have Katherine right by my side all nightorganically.
On the other hand, it’s hard to be around her. I’ve been in a state of permanent arousal since yesterday, with no outlet. It took all the willpower in the world to not rub myself raw in the shower last night, but I wanted to wait. I wanted to wait until we could be togetheragain.
“Liam,” one of the bridesmaids says drunkenly, swatting at me across the table. I reluctantly tear my attention away from Katherine and she gives me a little smirk, nodding as though to say it’s okay for me to talk to this other woman. “Liam. When are you going to getmarried?”
“Oh, he’s already been married,” James interjects, taking a sip of his scotch and grabbing the wine bottle from Katherine to refill his wife’s glass, “and I don’t know if this man isevergoing to get marriedagain.”
“Why do you say that?” Ireply.
I’ve never given him, or anyone, the indication that I don’t want to get remarried, but sometimes we need hard, tough words from an outside perspective to know what we really want, or at least gain some clarity on what’s best for us. I do spend a lot of time working, but I would absolutely not be opposed to marrying again. In fact, I often think about what it would be like to have another child, more than I wonder about get married again. Brian is a fantastic kid, but I would love a second chance at raising a child with apartner.
Brian’s mom and I got divorced when he was only four years old. She thought I was too involved in my work to be a good husband. I only wish I’d been given the opportunity to course-correct at the time. Instead, my then-wife insisted ondivorcing.
“You’ve been single for, what, 20 years? I think if you were going to get married again, you wouldhave.”
He has a pointthere.
“It’s not too late, though,” Isay.
I lean over the table to look down at the other end, where Brian is talking to another guy hisage.
“Do you want your twenty-six-year-old son to have a baby brother or sister?” Katherinesays.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, clearing my throat. My words come out a hair harsher than I’d meant them to. I suddenly feel like I’m under attack, being judged for the choices I’ve made. What’s worse, though, is that this conversation is throwing into harsh relief the situation I have withKatherine.
“There’s nothing wrong with just having a little fun.” The woman across the table bats her eyelashes atme.
I just look down at my plate, lost in thought, and take a sip of mywine.
A little fun? Is that what this thing between me and Katherine is? This weekend has been incredible. More fun than I’ve had in a very long time. But that’s not what this is tome.
“Katherine, we need to talk —,” I start as I turn to her, but her cousin is grabbing her arm and pulling her away as the music in the backyard startspumping.
