I rub my forehead with the back of my hand and sigh. “What if I can’t do it?”
“It’s like riding a bike. If you have trouble, just let him take the lead.”
“No, Roger. I’m talking about what if I freeze up and can’t. Mitchell’s the only man I’ve ever been with, and what if my mind isn’t ready to take the next step?”
“Tilly.” He touches my arms, always comforting me. “If Angelo’s any kind of man, he’ll wait as long as you need. If he doesn’t, I’ll kick his ass so that he’ll never look at you again.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” I smack his chest. “I really like this guy.”
“Don’t worry about anything, babe. When the time’s right, it’ll happen. Just follow your heart, and you can never go wrong.”
18
Angelo
Tate’s been putting on a ballerina performance for the last thirty minutes, giving absolutely zero shits that I’m trying to get ready for my date. She’s spinning around the living room, wearing the purple tutu my mother bought her for Christmas, pulling out all the stops to get me to change my mind.
“Why can’t I stay, Daddy?”
The minute she heard Tilly was coming over, she started to whine. She loves Uncle Lucio and Aunt Delilah and is usually thrilled to be going to their house, but not tonight. Not when Cupcake Tilly’s going to be in the house.
“It’s an adult night, baby.”
“I’ll stay in my room.” She does this thing with her lip like it’s going to make me change my mind.
“We both know that’s not true.”
“I promise.”
“You’ll have fun with Uncle Lucio. Let Daddy have a little time with Tilly.”
“Are you two going to fall asleep on the couch again?”
I shake my head. “No, sweetheart.”
I wouldn’t mind another night of Tilly in my arms. I forgot how peaceful it was to sleep with someone. The kids are hell at night when they crawl in my bed, kicking me like I’m in their way and not the other way around.
Lucio walks through the door and catches sight of Tate. “I see we’re still on the ballet kick.”
Tate screams and runs toward Lucio, jumping into his arms. “Uncle.” She giggles as he tickles her ribs. “Stop.”
He holds her tightly, giving her a moment to catch her breath. “Are you ready for some fun, squirt?”
“Can we have cookies?”
“Sure.”
“Can we have cake?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Lucio looks at me, clearly seeking help, but I only shrug and continue to clear the dinner table of their coloring books and crayons.
“Dude.” He points to Tate as she pouts in his arms. “Where does she put it?”
“No idea, man, but the kid will eat you out of house and home.”
