FALLING FOR MY MOM'S FIANCÉ

a

rase the feeling of his lips there. When I look at Philip again, his jaw is tight, so tight I can see the mus

asked if you'd join them for a song. They remember you from last yea

want someone who'll play their terrible jazz covers. Fine... I'll go make myself useful.

y confidence that's nothing like Philip's quiet poise. A few people call out his name... friends, by

r hold on, her fingers cool and familiar against my skin. "I'm sorry you foun

atching Philip. "Scared I'd be an

itar, his fingers moving over the strings with practiced ease. "I know I hurt you and your dad. I know I didn't handle things well. But Phili

s out harsher than I intend. "You and Dad

," she says gently. "

y head. "I don't want to talk ab

or a little while. Have a drink. Talk to Ethan... he's much easier to get along with than P

as he lets the music fill the room. The bass line is deep and smooth, making the floo

before letting go. "I'm going to go check on the cake. Janet was w

edestal table. I'm left standing alone, the noise of the party closing in around me-people laughing, clink

taking one. The cold glass feels good against my palm, and I take a long sip... bubbles

fan of c

his hip. He's shed the velvet jacket, leaving him in just the white shirt,

sip. "Or surprises. Or people who think they can fi

by again. "Though for the record, I think the cake is a waste of money. Yo

sound, but it's real. "A motorcycle? Yo

ed dress' type, but here we are." He leans against the wall beside me, takin

now h

know you t

m, talking to a group of men in dark suits, all of them nodding like he's

ession softening. "They met at a charity gala last year before your mom and dad split up. He was spon

engaged two months

ark and serious now. "Your mom was hurting, Maya. She'd been hurting for a long time. Philip

. "How do you know they didn't start seei

far from it. He's stubborn and he thinks he can fix everything on his own and he never

softer around the edges. He seems to be telling the truth, but I don'

know my da

much." He pauses, looking at me carefully. "Your mom still loves him too, you know. That's part

esn't mak

m against my ear. "She's trying to move forward, but she's not r

ht... I've been holding on to the idea of my parents being together, of thing

ading people," I say, my

ing back to my eyes. "Would you like to get out of here? There's a bar around the corner that serves the

he other men forgotten. His eyes are dark, unreadable, and I feel a jolt

uldn't,

when has that ever stopped anyone? I'll even call you a

er...heavy, firm, familiar. I turn to find Phi

his voice low. "We

e of paper into my hand, folded small, still warm from his pocket. "If you cha

my hand and the taste of champagne on my tongue. I unfold it, his number is written there

ance at me...his eyes meet mine, and this