The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(22)

Stomping out of his room, I open the bathroom door and rip his towel from the cabinet. “Little turd.”

“I heard that.”

The doorbell rings and I know it’s Troy. It’s the first birthday he gets to spend with his son, and I have a feeling he’s going to go all out. I march my geriatric ass to the door and open it to see he’s fresh-faced, looking like a million bucks, even at the early hour. Due to the natural wave in my hair, and the fact I haven’t showered to tame it, I look freshly electrocuted.

“Troy,” I say by way of greeting. My mood rapidly souring.

“What’s with all the yelling?”

“What?”

“I heard you two going at it.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Mom of the year, right here. “Dante and I were just discussing age.”

“Is that Troy?” Dante calls from his room.

“Yes, eat your breakfast!” I yell back.

“Well, tell him to come back here!”

“Eat your breakfast!”

“You two need an intercom,” Troy chuckles deeply, and I ignore the draw of the sound.

“He needs a muzzle. He’s far too observant, and outspoken.”

My son refuses to be left out of the conversation from his bedroom. “Troy, did you know Mommy is five times as old as I am today?”

Troy winces. “Ah, I can see why that didn’t go over well.”

“She’s too old to be a suppled coed!”

Troy crosses his arms. “What exactly were you two discussing?”

“She’s too old for you!” Dante supplies, humiliating me. “So, you can’t be her boyfriend!”

Briefly, just briefly, I imagine using Dante’s pillow to silence him.

“You told him you were too old for me?” His ridiculously blue eyes roam my face and trail down. “That’s not true,” he whispers before he rakes his lips with his perfect teeth. “I seem to recall—”

“Don’t go there, I haven’t even had my coffee.” What is it about men that they are so hard-pressed to make you remember the time they had their penis inside your vagina? I assume it’s just another territorial thing, or some fruit of my loins bullshit. But I’m not about to let him have his moment. “Do us both a favor and don’t bring that up again.”

“Fine. Are you going to let me in?” I step back as Troy steps in, he’s got on snug-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, full-on man swagger in his steps.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Need any help?”

“Just watch him, please. I need ten minutes of peace.”

“Just let me know if you find any areas hard to reach. Happy to set a good example in helping the elderly.”

“Troy, come back here! You can have my last pancake!”

Troy chuckles again, avoiding my death glare.

“No,” I shout back to Dante. “Those are for you!”

Troy lifts the gift bag in his hand. “Mind if I give him one of his presents early?”

“No,” I sigh, moving toward my bedroom, “go right ahead. One of us needs to do better parenting today.”

“Ahhh, it’s okay, Mommy.” The crack of his hand on my ass fills the room and my blood boils as the fire spreads. Troy’s eyes remain fixed on my burning ass as my jaw unhinges. “Look at that bounce. I would say that’s supple.”

I lean in with a hiss. “Do that again, and I’ll chop off your nuts, blend them up, and serve them at his party.”

He leans in, all two hundred plus pounds of him, and whispers low in my ear. “You look good, Mommy. Trust me.”

“Troy!” Dante summons again.

“I’m coming,” Troy replies, a little exasperated.

I can’t help my smile.

“He’s all yours, neighbor.”





Troy



Clarissa showers as I sit with Dante while he finishes his pancakes. He flips on his TV and begins to change the channel when an old Looney Tunes cartoon comes on.

“Hey, bud, don’t discount Looney Tunes. Those are the best.”

“They’re old.”

“Yes, but they’re classic. Just watch for a few minutes. Trust me.”

“K.” Dante sits back, taking another bite of his pancakes as the screen pans in on a little green frog. I scan my newsfeed replaying last night’s highlights while trying to ignore the fact that Clarissa is naked mere feet away from me. It’s childish, but the woman is a knock-out. And her comments about being too old and not coed enough aren’t jiving well with me. Why were they having that conversation in the first place? Is she curious about me? Does she ever think about that night? Does she think about me in more than a ‘baby daddy’ sense? If so, I hope her ass is still burning from my slap, and her other cheeks are still red from the compliment I meant. She’s fucking fire. One of the hottest women I’ve ever laid eyes on. And she thinks she wouldn’t be enough for me? Given the chance, I’d show her otherwise in a heartbeat.

Loud laughter erupts from Dante, interrupting my reverie. Chuckling at his reaction, I look up from my phone to see his mouth is parted, hysterical spittle running down his chin as he watches the frog come to life, belting out opera. He’s laughing so hard I think he may choke on his pancakes. “Easy there, killer.” I can’t help but laugh with him at the way he’s responding to the cartoon. I quickly Google the character’s name and find it’s Michigan J. Frog, saving it in my arsenal of things my kid loves.