22. Birdie

Confession: Want to get on my bad side? Waste perfectly good ice cream.

The ice cream stand was cute, and it had plenty of flavors to choose from. I watched with anticipation as Cohen ordered. A double scoop of mint chocolate chip in a chocolate waffle cone.

"Nice," I said. "I'll have that too."

"Easy peasy," the woman behind the counter said. Cohen paid, again, and we stepped to the side to wait. This area didn't have as nice of a view, but there were picnic tables scattered about a gravel lot. Couples and families sat enjoying the beautiful fall weather and each other's company.

It was one of those days, one of those spaces, that made you feel like all was right in the world.

Or maybe that was just Cohen.

He said, "Why don't you find a seat? I'll get the cones when they're ready."

What a gentleman. With a nod, I began walking and found an open space for us to sit. As I waited for Cohen, I looked around to see who was there. In my world, people watching was more of a sport than football. And I could have been an Olympic "athlete" at it.

For example, the couple just a table over were clearly in a fight. She had her shoulders away from him, wasn't even making eye contact as she toyed with her spoon in the paper bowl. Her partner had his eyebrows furrowed, legs crossed like he was protecting himself.

Dax and I had been in plenty of those fights before. Usually about money—the time our electricity got shut off because he forgot the bill had been a giant blowout. I'd never, never had that happen in my life before, even when Mara and I were scraping together pennies to pay our expenses at the apartment.

I turned my head away from the couple, away from the reminder of what my life could have been like had Dax not walked out on me, and my eyes boggled at what I saw. Headmaster Bradford sat with his wife and their grandchildren only a few tables away.

I got up so fast I fell over the picnic bench, making rocks dig into my hands and knees. My skirt had flown up, falling over my stomach, and I yanked it down to cover my underwear. A few people looked my way, but Bradford was preoccupied with a dollop of ice cream that had been dumped into his lap.

I hurried toward the back exit, keeping my head down and my faithful black purse clutched in front of me. If Bradford saw me here looking like I was dressed for the circus, with a student's father no less, my career could be on the line. And breaking a major policy like the no-dating rule didn't look good on a resume when applying to other schools.

As soon as I was on the opposite side of the building, I got out my phone and dialed Cohen's number.

When he answered, he asked, "Where did you run off to? I don't see you, and I have ice cream dripping down my hand."

If I wasn't completely panicked, I might have laughed. "Headmaster Bradford is there with his family!"

"Oh. Oh. Walk down the block toward the screen-printing place. I'll drive the car to meet you."

The steady tone of his voice had me nodding and following his instructions. Maybe even calming down a bit. "Okay. Right. And if he sees us, it's not a big deal. Friends can get ice cream together."

"Friends getting ice cream wouldn't run away from their bosses."

I cringed. "So I'm not the best at playing it cool."

"Understatement of the year."

"I wish you could see me glaring at you."

"Turn to the left and I will."

I looked over and saw him in his sexy car with the window rolled down.

"Show me your ankle, and I'll give you a ride," he said.

"Oh mercy me." I covered my chest with my hands. "What will my father say when he finds out?"

With a chuckle, he reached across the console and pushed the door open. "Get in."

"So forceful," I said in the same breathy voice as I climbed into the car. "Where's the ice cream?"

"I threw it away."

My mouth fell open. "You threw away four-and-a-half-star ice cream? How could you?"

"I wasn't about to get it in my car!"

"Uh huh. Well, now this not-date has been ruined."

With a sexy smile, he said, "Luckily for you, I know a few places with mint chocolate chip. And plenty of napkins."

"My hero." I folded my hands over my chest again and let out a dreamy sigh.

"Happy to be of service, ma'am."

He stopped at a fast-food place and got us mint chocolate chip shakes. "Much less messy," he said, handing my cup and straw to me.

The lined paper cup was cold and moist under my fingertips, the perfect contrast to the evening sun hitting me through the tinted window. "Where's Ollie tonight?" I asked as he pulled into a parking spot so we could sit together in the privacy of his car.

"With his mom."

I noticed how he called her Ollie's mom instead of his ex. The difference may have seemed subtle to most, but to me, it was massive. Calling her "Ollie's mom" was like honoring her role in their child's life instead of her part in his past.

I took a sip of my shake and said, "She told me she didn't know what was going on with him, but she'll keep an eye out. I can't tell what's going on at school, but he does seem withdrawn."

Cohen nodded slowly and took another pull from his shake. "I'm worried about him."

My heart wrenched for him. I could feel his worry in every word. "We'll figure it out," I said, although I had no idea how.

"I hope so." He turned his gaze on me. "You know, when Ollie told us he was interested in men, my first thought was what the kids at school would think of him." He shook his head, looking back at his drink and adjusting the straw. "I never even worried about what Ollie thought of himself."

Maybe it was the tone in his voice or how close we were sitting, but I reached out and put my hand atop his thigh. I wanted to comfort him, erase the lines forming on his forehead and the worry in his darkening eyes. "You're a good dad, Cohen."

He lifted his eyebrows. "How can you tell?"

"I can hear it in your voice."

His lips turned up slightly. "What about you? Have you ever thought of having kids?"

"I used to," I said, deciding to lay it all out there. "My fiancé left me right before I met you, and I thought I'd do the whole thing, you know, house, car, 2.5 kids. But now that we've been apart, I keep wondering if I actually wanted that or if I just thought I should want that."

He nodded. "I never thought I'd have kids. Ollie was a surprise, and his mom and I got married as soon as we found out. But, as it turns out, when you get married, you need to be in love with your spouse and not just your child. The second I saw him, I knew I was meant to be a father. Meant to be his father."

I smiled softly. "And what about when Ollie leaves for college?"

"I'll have all his plants to take care of," Cohen said. "And my house will be a lot messier. I thought teens were supposed to be gross, but he makes me feel bad about my cleaning habits."

Laughing, I said, "I can relate. When I moved out of my parents' house, I had no idea how to manage a house without a maid."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Ripped that silver spoon right out of my mouth." I held up the disposable cup of ice cream. "Been dining on plastic ever since."

He chuckled. "You, Birdie Melrose, are funny."

What was really funny was the way my body reacted to the sound of my name on his lips.

"Why didn't your parents pay for a maid? Wasn't allowed in the dorm room?"

I gave a wry smile, shaking my head. "Not exactly. When I told them I was going to college—with a plan to work in a school—they were disappointed. To say the least. They cut me off and said my trust fund would be waiting for me when I changed my mind. And well... you saw where I work."

"Wow," Cohen said. "That must have been hard."

"Not as hard as living someone else's life," I said, taking a final sip from my cup. "Empty."

"Let me take it—I'll throw them away," Cohen offered. He took my cup and got out of the car, walking toward a trash can near the drive-through. And man, the way he walked away...

He got back in and started the car. "Since it's our first not-date, I should probably take you home."

Why did the sentence make me so sad? Instead of thinking on it, I nodded and said, "Probably." I sobered as we drove a little farther down the road, back toward View House where my car waited. "That was a close one, with the headmaster."

Cohen frowned and nodded. "Maybe it would be better to meet somewhere more private."

"For what?" I asked. "We can't date." The three words hit me in the chest as I realized how much I wanted to continue getting to know this amazing specimen of a man. I was pretty sure I liked him more than Dax already, and that was a terrifying thought for someone who was completely off limits. Especially so soon after my last relationship. Maybe it was better to get some space—to guard my heart.

He was quiet as he slowed and turned into the lot, stopping next to my car. He put his own vehicle in park and turned to me. "Tell me you don't want to see me. Tell me you're not having just as much fun as I am. Tell me"—he hesitated and reached to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, sending shivers over my skin—"tell me you don't want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you."

My eyes landed on his mouth, on his full lips and the slight cleft in his chin with a dusting of shadow. "I...can't."

I couldn't be honest with him. The truth was, each second that passed made me want to kiss him even more. He was funny, kind, attentive, easy to talk to...everything I wanted in a man but didn't dare dream I could have.

"You can't kiss me, or you can't tell me you want to kiss me too?" he asked.

"Both," I answered, then I opened the door and got out of the car.