Word has it that opposites attract. Jessica Keith would give the pithy expression two middle fingers because a wild party girl like her and the prim do-gooder, Matthew Parkinson are opposites hopeless to attract, let alone breathe the same air.
Howe...
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Jessica
Having to be face to face with Matthew Parkinson in the next three weeks came with its perks. I get to stay in one of their guest rooms – rent free. A guest room with closet the size of my entire bedroom, mind you. And Audrey always had this fridge that never goes out of stock – thanks to Kylie – whereas mine is just a cold, misting display of despair.
Free living space.
Free food.
The latter has even more delightful ring to it. So, as I fluff Miles' pillows and spread the sheets over his bed, I figured the whole co-parenting thing can't be all that bad.
Just think of food.
And all will be well.
"Mile-sy, you done brushing your teeth?" I called out, hoping he hears me from his bathroom. I volunteered to tuck him to bed. The rest of the routine will be lots of alternating. I've been in the living room with the guy for what felt like forever, watching cartoon, because no one wanted to move.
His head popped out from the gape of his bathroom door, toothbrush still sticking to his mouth. "Just one more minute."
"Okay." I walk over his window and draw the curtains, faltering when I see a silhouette outside by the swimming pool. It steps onto the faint light, and dear lord, the silhouette was soooo fine in his swimming shorts.
I squinted my eyes, leaning closer to the window, hoping to get more than just the slightest preview of broad shoulders and possible ripped abs. Absently, I leaned forward, yelping in pain when I hit my forehead on the glass window instead. "Shit," I cursed under my breath.
"Aunt Jess? Why are you standing so close to the window?"
I turn all the way around, my hand going over my forehead where the throbbing didn't stop. "Hey, Mile-sy. I was just checking the pool."
He marched toward me in his banana-printed PJs and looked out the window. "It's just Uncle Matty. He always goes for a swim at night whenever he sleeps over."
"Oh, so there will be other nights," I murmured.
"Huh?"
"Nothing." I beamed.
My phone rings in my pocket. We both lit up.
"It's your mommy."
"It's my mommy."
I slid it off from the pocket of my denim jacket, and sure enough, it was Audrey. "Hi, how's everything?" I chirped.
"I have no idea. We're still somewhere over the freaking nowhere, I don't really know. Someone is refusing to disclose that information to me," she grumbles.
I can imagine her throwing a black look to her husband.
"Where's my baby?"
"He's here. We've been eagerly waiting for you to call."
