Desperately Seeking Landlord Read online

  After everything she did, and the fact she made it abundantly clear she didn’t want him, I still feel a sting of guilt for denying her the opportunity to see him. I don’t want to keep Tobias away from his mother, but I do want to protect him. Right now I can’t trust her motives. Tobias knows about her, I’ve shown him pictures, spoken about how we fell in love. I’ve never said anything bad about her to him, because no matter what, he has half her DNA. For me, I feel like bad mouthing her to him would be like saying half of him is horrible too, and that’s not true. He’s perfect. He’s asked where she went, why we’re not married anymore, and if it was his fault. I’ve told him adamantly it’s not his fault, and that she just wasn’t ready to be a mom. I know he doesn’t quite understand, but he grasps it enough.

  He finally spots me and his whole face lights up. “Dad!”

  My answering smile is as big as his.

  If I’m remembered for anything in this world, I want it to be for being a good father.

  Tobias plows into my legs, hugging me. “I missed you, Dad.”

  “Missed you too, bud.” I hug him back, ruffling his hair. I know it won’t be long until he doesn’t show me affection like this anymore, which makes me try to soak it up every chance I get.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah. Let me get my backpack.” He runs away before I can respond and grabs it from the pile by the side of the school.

  He runs back to me and we walk side by side to my car.

  “In you go.” I open the back passenger door for him to hop inside.

  He tosses his backpack onto the opposite seat and plops onto his booster seat.

  “How much longer do I have to use this thing?” He wiggles the arms of it before reaching for his seatbelt.

  I shrug, peering at him over the top of the door. “Until it’s safe for you to not use it.”

  “Dad.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Tobias,” I echo, rolling my eyes back and he laughs.

  Once he’s buckled I close his door and get in. The engine has barely purred to life when he asks, “Can I get a Happy Meal?”

  I look at him in the rearview mirror. “No, your grandma made a nice dinner. We’re going to go home and eat that.”

  He sighs heavily like I’ve crushed all his hopes and dreams with one simple refusal. “But Levi said his parents were taking him to Chuck E. Cheese tonight. A Happy Meal is nothing compared to that.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I’m not Levi’s parents.” I flick my blinker on, waiting for traffic to clear before I pull out of the school lot.

  “Can I get one tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “When can I get one?”

  “When you stop asking.”

  “You’re so annoying.”

  I chuckle. “I’m your dad. I’m supposed to be annoying.”

  “Well, you’re doing a great job at it.”

  I have to stifle my full-blown laughter.

  I used to give my parents the same attitude as a kid. I guess this is my payback.

  Pulling in the driveway of the two-story home, I click the button for the garage door and it whirs up so I can park.

  Tobias unbuckles, grabs his backpack, and runs inside all before I can shut off the car.

  “Grandma Jo!” I hear him call as I step out. “I’m hungry and something smells good!”

  I laugh. It seems like the Happy Meal is completely forgotten.

  Locking the car, I close the garage door and head in.

  Tobias is right, something does smell good.

  I stroll into the kitchen and find my mom setting down plates on the table. There’s a formal dining room in this house, but we never use it.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I bend and kiss her cheek before I take a seat.

  Not a day goes by where I’m not thankful for all my mom’s help. I might be a single father, but I definitely haven’t raised Tobias alone. My mom didn’t want to continue living by herself, not that she isn’t capable, she just said it was lonely, and I really needed the help. Having her around has been a blessing and I think it’s good for Tobias.

  “Yeah, thanks Grandma Jo.”

  “You’re welcome, Toby.”

  “Don’t encourage him with the nickname, Mom.” I stand up and grab a beer from the fridge.

  I hear the scrape of a chair as she sits down. I pop the cap before I rejoin them. She made some kind of chicken and rice meal that smells like heaven. I wish I could cook like her. Even though she’s tried to teach me, I don’t have the knack she does.

  “The boy should be allowed to go by a nickname if he wants,” she chides me.

  Exhaling a breath, I turn my eyes to my son who’s already stuffing his face. “I named you Tobias for a reason. Do you know why?”

  He shakes his head, a piece of rice stuck to his lip. I reach over and brush it off.

  He makes a face and pushes my hand away. “Stop, Dad.”

  Ignoring him, I continue, “I named you Tobias because it’s a strong name. It means God is good. I’m not a religious man, son, but God was good to me when he gave me you.”

  Tobias’s face quirks as he thinks. “I still want to be called Toby.”

  I throw my hands in the air. I can’t win with this kid.

  My mom laughs and I shoot her daggers.

  “Of course you do,” I groan.

  He’s only seven. I don’t know how I’m going to survive when he’s a teenager.

  10

  Jamie

  The flat out sprint I’m running on the treadmill should have me exhausted, but I’m nowhere close. I keep thinking if I run fast enough I can get Miranda off my brain. It’s not working. I haven’t seen her in two weeks, and it’s been hell fighting with myself not to show up at her place. I keep telling myself it’s sex I need, but it’s a fucking lie, which frustrates me more. If it was about sex I could go anywhere and find someone just as willing, but I haven’t bothered trying, because I know no one will be her.

  After everything that happened with Shannon, I haven’t been interested in pursuing a relationship. I loved Shannon deeply, with all my heart, and she hurt me more than anyone ever has. Tobias was two years old before I slept with another woman, and that was only by mistake. I’d gone out with friends for my birthday, my mom watching him, and got so wasted I didn’t realize what I’d done until I woke up the next morning. Up until then, Shannon had been the only woman I’d had sex with.

  I’m not sure it’s even a relationship I want from Miranda, but I know I haven’t had my fill of her. It frustrates me to no end.

  Before her, my hookups were occasional. I know it’s probably surprising to some people, the way I act, but it’s true. But after we slept together the first time I needed more.

  I’m a fucking addict when it comes to her.

  I know I can’t keep running at the pace I am, so I shut off the treadmill and head for the showers. It’s after seven and the gym is relatively quiet. I’m not ready to go home, though, but have no idea what to do.

  My mom took Tobias to the movies, it’s something they do just the two of them at least once a month depending on what has released. His school starts up in only a couple of days. He’ll be in second grade. It blows my mind he’s growing up so fast. It still feels like I was just holding him as a newborn.

  Changing into jeans and an old t-shirt, I leave the gym, driving around for an extended period of time, while I try to avoid the direction of Miranda’s apartment.

  I’m a fool.

  I stop by Chick-fil-A and then there’s no more avoiding it.

  Gathering the bags of food, I head up to her apartment, knock, and wait.

  The door swings open and she stands there in an old ratty t-shirt covered in paint splatters. A loose pair of jeans are barely holding onto her body.

  “What kind of pants are you wearing?”

  She looks down and back up at me, shaking her head. “Boyfriend jeans.”

  “Boyfriend jeans,” I blurt, my voice hig
her than normal. “What the fuck do you mean your boyfriend’s jeans?”

  She rolls her eyes, leaning against the open doorway. “Not my boyfriend’s jeans. It’s the name of the style. Chill. Why are you even here? You’ve got to stop showing up like this.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “I don’t know why I’m here.” It’s perhaps the most honest answer I’ve ever given her. “But it just felt like where I needed to be.”

  She continues to lean there, her straight white teeth digging into her bottom lip as she contemplates.

  “That for me?” Her eyes flicker to the Chick-fil-A bag. “Because I’m starving.”

  I nod. “Both of us. You gonna let me in?”

  She lets out a dramatic sigh and playfully rolls her eyes. “I guess.” She steps aside to let me in. “It’s late. What are you doing out?”

  She closes and locks the door while I set the bags and drink carrier down on the kitchen counter.

  “My mom took Tobias to a movie, so I’m on my own.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s still weird you’re a dad.”

  “Well, I am.”

  The quiet settles between us and it’s a little bit awkward.

  She pushes me aside with a bump of her hip. “I need food.”

  I watch as she grabs plates from her cabinet and begins fixing us each a plateful of chicken nuggets and waffles fries.

  “Ugh, yes. You got sauce. My favorite.” She pulls out two packs of honey mustard. “You want any?” She holds the sauce bag out to me and I take the Chick-fil-A sauce.

  “I got you a lemonade.” I wave my hand at the drink carrier where a large lemonade and sweet tea sit.

  Her dark brows furrow. “How do you know I like lemonade?”

  Because one time when I kissed you, I could taste it on your lips, and now I can’t think of the sweet and sour flavor without thinking of you.

  “Just a hunch.”

  She shakes her head, still looking confused. Grabbing her drink, she heads for the couch. I take my sweet tea and follow her. She turns the TV on.

  “This is weird.” She gives me a funny look as I settle on her small couch—it’s actually more of a love seat, and there’s no way for two people to sit on it without touching.

  “What’s weird?” I pop a fry into my mouth, waiting for her response.

  “This. You. Us. I mean, we’re sitting on my couch eating food. Normally we’re naked.”

  “We can get naked.”

  “Jamie.” She lightly whacks my shoulder with the remote and I laugh.

  Fuck, it feels good to laugh.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

  “No,” I reply honestly, and I swear her cheeks flush.

  Sighing, she wiggles around. “Should I put a movie on or something?”

  “Sure, whatever you want.”

  I can tell she’s tense as she scrolls through Netflix and finally settles on National Treasure. “I love this movie,” she admits, looking down at her plate.

  “Me too.” She looks at me in surprise. “What?” I blink innocently. “I know you and Louise think I’m the Devil incarnate, but I’m not really.”

  In fact, my heart is so sensitive I’ve had to build a fucking fortress around it. Somehow, though, when I’m around you the walls are starting to crumble.

  “I don’t know what you are.” Her reply is soft, almost mumbled.

  “Most people don’t.” I shrug and take a bite of chicken.

  I’m not trying to be purposely mysterious. I don’t let most people close enough to get to know the real me. Not anymore. I suppose it’s my fatal flaw. Everyone has to have one.

  We eat in silence, both watching the movie like we’ve never seen it before.

  “I want to change,” Miranda announces, pausing the movie. ”Do you need to go?” It’s a fair question. I am always leaving it seems.

  I look at my watch and shake my head. My mom will have taken Tobias to get ice cream and will be putting him to bed. These are the only nights he’s allowed up past his bedtime and he cherishes them.

  Miranda tugs on her shirt. “Well, I’m going to … uh … put pajamas on.”

  “Okay.” I pick up my tea and drink while she continues to stare at me.

  “This is so weird,” she mutters to herself before walking off.

  “I can take my shirt off if it’ll make you more comfortable!”

  “Shut up, James.”

  I hear her banging drawers in her room and muttering under her breath.

  When she returns, in a plain t-shirt and Eeyore pajama bottoms, I wait for her to sit down before I say anything.

  “My name isn’t James.”

  She looks at me wide-eyed. “Uh … yeah it is.”

  “No,” I drawl slowly, “it’s Jamie.”

  She snorts and shakes her head. “Mhmm, I know. That’s your nickname.”

  “No,” I repeat. “Jamie is my actual name. It’s on my birth certificate and everything.” I smirk when her jaw drops.

  “What? I … everything I know is a lie. Lou, calls you James.”

  “She assumes James is my first name, like most people do. It’s Jamie.”

  “Is that why you call her Louise? Because it’s her actual name.”

  Fuck, she sees too much.

  “Yeah,” I admit, stretching my arm over the back of the couch. I don’t do it intentionally to get closer to her, but when my fingers graze the edge of her shoulder and she shivers I’m glad I did. “Tobias wants me to call him Toby and I refuse.”

  She laughs. “Why the hang up on names?”

  I think for a moment, looking at the paused still on the TV of Nicolas Cage holding the Declaration of Independence in an elevator.

  “A lot of people called me James growing up, because they thought that was my actual name. After a while it grated on me. I’m Jamie. Not James.”

  She bites her lip looking chagrined. Curling her legs under her, she faces me. “Now I feel like a bitch for calling you James. I just assumed that was your name and you didn’t like it.” Her lower lip pouts slightly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel bad. I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t tell you.” I don’t bother to correct most people these days. It’s a waste of breath.

  She stares at me a moment longer before clearing her throat and grabbing the remote. The movie starts back up and the conversation drops off.

  Miranda eventually settles her body against mine, falling asleep before they enter the church.

  I should get up, leave, but I don’t.

  Miranda wiggles her body against mine, making a soft noise in her sleep.

  Why am I here?

  In this tiny ass apartment, with a woman twelve years younger than me, is the last place I should be but the only place I seem to belong.

  I glide my fingers over the curve of her cheek and she curls into me more. There are dark circles under her eyes and even though I know her classes have only started, she’s clearly exhausted.

  I tell myself not to do it, but I do it anyway, and bend over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  I don’t know who I am anymore, at least when I’m around her, and it terrifies me. I haven’t given anyone the power to break my heart since Shannon, but I’m very close to letting Miranda do the same. It’s why I walked away the first time, put that distance between us. Despite it, I couldn’t stay away. She’s my bad habit, one I can’t quit, one I don’t want to.

  11

  Miranda

  Awareness slowly creeps into the recesses of my brain. My whole body screams in protest at my contorted position. My head rests on something hard, my nose pressed against something that smells vaguely of wood and a hint of orange. I feel an arm wrapped around my body.

  Where the fuck am I?

  I force my eyes open and find my face pressed against the softest t-shirt. I inhale the scent again, certain it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever smelled. Slowly I sit up, unwinding m
y body from the pretzel shape I was in. The arm drops like a heavy leaden weight. Looking around I see I’m in my apartment, my clothes are intact, and…

  “Oh my God.” My hands fly to my face as I take in Jamie asleep on my couch. He’s sitting upright, his head angled in a position that can’t be comfortable. One arm hangs limply, no longer around me, with the other resting on the edge of the couch.

  Grappling for my phone on the coffee table my jaw drops further when I see the time. Six in the morning.

  Holy shit.

  Jamie spent the night.

  Unintentionally, but still.

  And to think, we didn’t even have sex.

  I know he’s bound to be pissed. This couldn’t have been in his plan.

  Sucking it up, I shake his shoulder. He barely wobbles. I push him harder and he jolts awake, bleary hazel eyes looking around in confusion.

  “Miranda?” Confusion heavy in his voice as well as sleep. He stretches his arms above his head, twisting his neck. “Fuck, what time is it? I’ve got to get home.”

  “It’s six.”

  He rolls his eyes and stifles a yawn. “No, I got here at like nine.”

  “Six in the morning, Jamie.”

  “Fuck.” He jumps up from the couch, patting his pockets and no doubt making sure his keys are there. “Shit. Fuck. Dammit all to hell.”

  “Calm down.” I follow him to the door and grab his arm, but he shakes my hold loose.

  “I can’t calm down. My son is usually up by now and I’m not at home.” He thrusts his fingers through his unruly hair. “I have to go.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t know why I feel the need to apologize. I’m not the one who invited him here. He showed up. He fell asleep. He’s a big boy and can deal with it.

  His shoulders soften at my words. “Not your fault. I…” He clenches his jaw. “Thank you for last night.”

  My lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he’s opening the door and fleeing my building.