Page 15 of Accidental Dad’s Best Friend (Unintentionally Yours #7)

Izzy

T he thing about people in power…

No.

If you’ve ever wondered where magazines get their stories…

Meh.

Ever wondered what’s behind the curtains?

Ugh.

Despite the fact I never stopped writing even after I lost my job at Slay, there’s something about this article that is different. I am used to uncovering skeletons. I am used to writing the truth no matter how ugly people think it is. So why is this article so hard to write?

I close my laptop and look at the time. I have about five minutes before I have to get Jax from school and honestly, I am a little grateful for the break.

I also notice that I have about six notifications on my phone that I’ve been ignoring (on purpose) for several days.

Full disclosure, they’re all from Ethan.

I think he thinks I’ve ghosted him. And I kind of have.

Not only am I keeping things strictly work related, I also haven’t talked to him about work.

Because other than that first paragraph, I’ve got writer’s block.

Turns out, outing your dad for being the literary world’s most power hungry asshole isn’t as easy as you’d think.

After picking Jaxon up from school, we head straight for the gym.

While Denver seems to have one on almost every corner (the corners not occupied by churches or liquor stores), there happens to be one walking distance from our house as well.

As much as I know I shouldn’t get used to this, I could really get used to this.

I take Jaxon to the Kid Zone, a supervised play area with toys, games, an indoor jungle gym, snacks and TVs.

It’s everything you could possibly need to distract your kids while you get two hours of alone bliss.

A lot of women use it for working out, some use it for yoga and spin class time, while others, I am thoroughly convinced, simply drop their kids off and go sit in the hot tub with a book.

Honestly, that sounds lovely right now. But after the day I have had, I feel like I need to burn off steam.

I make my way to a stair master and start climbing.

Something about cardio has always helped me manage stress, although I don’t look like the other cardio junkies here.

That’s one of the hard things about Colorado.

Everyone is fit and thin and blonde and tan and they seem to just be that way naturally.

It’s called being “Colorado hot”, Cassie used to say.

All states have levels of hotness but Colorado’s baseline for hot is a 10 in other states.

I’ve been told I am pretty. I don’t really date (single mothers aren’t the most popular women on the market) but if I did, I doubt I’d have too hard a time finding someone who would take interest. But that’s the thing.

I don’t look. I don’t do things for other people.

I work out and I eat pizza and Jaxon doesn’t care about stretch marks.

From what I’ve noticed, Ethan doesn’t either. Ethan seems okay with every inch of me, actually…

My internal thoughts are making their way to my outside appearance because I am sweating like crazy now.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been climbing stairs for twenty eight minutes straight.

But climbing stairs doesn’t usually make my nipples hard, even when I preoccupy myself by listening to smutty romance audio books to pass the time.

The very thought of Ethan, though… that’s enough to make me blush and I’m a little worried people are going to notice.

I finish up my workout all while making a strong mental effort to stop thinking about Ethan. Honestly, I don’t know which thing is physically more exhausting, the stair master or shoving Ethan to the back of my thoughts.

By the time I am ready to go, I have sweat dripping down into my shirt, my hair is matted to my forehead and I’m pretty sure I smell like a sock. I snag a protein shake from the juice bar (god this gym is bougie. I secretly love it) and head back to the Kid Zone.

“Picking up?” a young girl with a baby on her hip smiles at me and I nod, smiling back.

“Yes. Jaxon.”

“Of course. He is at the art table. I’ll have him clean up and send him out. Hope your fridge has room for finger paints because you have quite the artist on your hands.”

I smile proudly at that. The fridge has no real estate for any more art.

In fact, we are starting in on the walls of the hallway at this point.

It’s another thing I love about his new school so far.

They do art almost every day. And the days they don’t, they do music.

I swallow back the reminder that I am going to miss this and pull my phone out, searching for similar gyms in a cheaper part of the city.

“How was your workout?” The voice comes from next to me and I jump. I didn’t even know anyone was standing there. I also can’t believe that it takes me as long as it does to recognize who it is.

“Ethan,” I let out, my guard way lower than I’d like it to be.

“What are you doing here?” I find myself trying to fix my hair, the way I’m standing, looking down at my sweat-drenched workout clothes.

And by workout clothes, I don’t mean a matching Harala set like all the other women are wearing.

More like cotton pajama shorts and an oversized Cage the Elephant t-shirt I got at a concert many years ago.

“You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls. So I decided to–”

“Stalk me?” I cut him off. A couple other women can hear what I’m saying. My words should alarm them, or at the very least cause some concern. But they look at Ethan and then at me and then back at him and smile.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You hardly leave the area so it was either the coffee shop, home or here. I took a wild guess and got lucky.”

I lean in, enough that I can talk through my teeth and lower my voice. “If you could not call me sweetheart in public, or anywhere for that matter, it would be great.”

Ethan matches my tone, annoying me even more. “If you could answer your phone when your boss slash friend calls you, it would be great.”

“We…” I gesture between us. “Are not friends.”

“But I am your boss. And I kind of need to keep tabs on you.”

I shake my head, turning to see if Jaxon is coming yet. This cannot be happening. He can’t just follow me around. And he definitely can’t be here.

“You have to go.” I tell him.

“Your dad is looking for you.”

Ethan’s words make all the anger and frustration drop from my face. “What are you talking about?”

Ethan takes me by the arm and pulls me aside. “We had lunch today and he asked if I’ve talked to you recently.”

“And what did you tell him?” My voice comes out in a frantic squeak, but I try to keep it low. Meanwhile, my heart is jack hammering in my chest.

“I lied, of course. But then he said he’s worried about you–”

“Worried about me?” I laugh. “He probably just wants to make sure I’m not making him look bad.”

Ethan looks down at his shoes and rolls back on his heels.

Oh. So I hit the nail on the head.

I am officially fuming and I cross my arms over my chest, biting my cheek.

“If it makes you feel better, Izzy, I told him to let me do it.”

I whip my attention back to him. “Let you do what?”

“Keep an eye on you. I convinced him that I would find out where you are living, working, all of that.”

“So you are stalking me!” I let out. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Will you calm down? I am not stalking you. Jesus, Izzy. We are already working together and talking and…other things. I’m going to lie about all of it so that he loses interest.”

I narrow my eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Ethan meets my gaze. “Can you trust him?”

Fuck. He’s got me there. I open my mouth but before I can say anything, I hear my name.

“Mommy!” Jaxon runs up to us and for a minute I forgot where we are and what I’m doing and how all of this was not supposed to happen. Jaxon holds up a still wet painting with a huge, gap-toothed smile. “Look what I made!”

“I see that. It’s so cool.” I force a smile. Inside, I am panicking.

“Do you know what it is?” He asks.

“Of course. It’s a?—”

“It’s a spinosaurus.” Ethan grins down at him.

Jaxon’s smile fades shyly and he reaches for my hand, his hazel blue eyes locked on Ethan. “Who is this?”

“Sorry Champ, I didn’t mean to scare ya. I’m your mom’s friend, Ethan.”

“Oh.” Jaxon nods. Then he lets go of me, to my complete surprise. He holds the painting up with one hand, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the other. “You got it right. Most people would have guessed a t-rex. But t-rexes don’t have–”

“The back fin.” Ethan answers and Jaxon lights up.

They keep talking, something about teeth and claws and scales but I can’t keep up. I can’t even breathe. Ethan is smiling at Jaxon. Jaxon is smiling back at Ethan. And my fucking god do they look alike…

I never noticed it before. Not like this.

But everything from the way they talk with their hands, to the way they tilt their heads when they say something they think you don’t know, to the way their smiles are perfect until they laugh and then they get ever so slightly lopsided– is the same.

The dark thick hair, the intense eyes, the slope of their noses.

All. The. Same.

“Jaxon we need to go.” I blurt out. “Go potty first because we have to walk back.”

“Okay!” Jaxon agrees.

“I’ll hold that for you,” Ethan offers, reaching for the painting.

“You can have it. I’ve never met someone else who likes dinosaurs as much as me.”

Jaxon scampers off and Ethan and I turn towards each other. “Cute kid,” he says casually.

“You were not supposed to meet him.” I snap back.

“Why not?”

“Because…” I trail off because I can’t say what I was about to say.

Because he is your son.

“I just…I am trying to protect him.” I say.

Ethan nods. His expression is soft. “I understand.”

Jaxon is already by our sides again and we head for the door. “Are we still getting ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” I ask the word like I’ve never heard it before.

“Yes. From the ice cream lady at the park. You said we could get it today after you worked out. You said you had to burn some calories so you could eat more. You said–”

“Okay!” I smile, covering Jaxon’s mouth with my hand and making him giggle. Meanwhile, Ethan is biting back a smile.

“Can Ethan come too?” Jax asks.

“Oh I doubt Ethan wants ice cream–”

“I’d love to,” he cuts me off. I raise my eyebrows at him but he just raises his back.

After Ethan pays for three cones, Jaxon takes off for a swing and Ethan and I sit on a bench. “He’s a great kid,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry you feel like you have to hide him.”

My heart clenches in my chest. “Jaxon was unexpected. It’s not that I feel the need to hide him so much as I need to keep him safe.”

Ethan looks at me with worry in his blue eyes. The same blue as Jaxon’s. God, now that I’ve seen it, I’ll never unsee it. “Safe from what?”

“My dad.”

“Do you think he’d hurt him?”

“Not like that. But he’d want to be a part of his life.

He’s all about legacy and stupid shit like that.

He’d want a say in how I raise him and most likely, he’d treat him the way he treated me.

And if Jax ever did anything he didn’t approve of, he might also do what he did with me and not want to have anything to do with him.

And I can’t let that happen. It’s enough that I am raising him on my own.

I don’t need people going in and out of his life. ”

My voice is shaky as I say the words. Ethan’s hand clenches and I wonder if he is going to grab mine. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans his knee against mine. It’s different than when he is pushing the limits beneath the coffee shop table though. It’s like he wants to hug me but won’t.

“I won’t tell him you have a son,” he says. “I will make sure he doesn’t find out.”

I nod, swallowing back the bile in my throat. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes, Izzy. If you don’t feel safe, I’ll change that. I’ll make sure that you and Jax go to bed every night with peace of mind.”

“Why? Why would you do that for us?” My voice cracks.

Ethan turns to look at me. His face is close enough to kiss me. But he won’t. “Do I really need to answer that question, Izzy?”

There is a moment where we just look at each other and then Ethan turns to watch Jax again. “Speaking of safety. Do you know anything about the boy’s father?”

“What do you mean?” I ask quickly.

“Do you know who he is? Where he is? What kind of guy he is? I know he’s not in the picture but is it going to stay that way?”

I think carefully before answering and keep my voice as level as possible. “We don’t need to worry about him.”