Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Emmet
“I can’t believe he’s sitting so still,” Adam whispers to me.
I smile as I watch Ian and Judy sitting on the carpet, near a dozen other kids. They’re listening to one of the librarians tell a story about a magical moose, and Ian is enthralled. I’m not sure if it’s the story or the way she’s telling it, because, honestly, even I’m invested in this moose.
“It’s a good story,” I say.
Adam nudges me with his elbow, and I turn to him.
There’s so much happiness shining in his eyes.
I have the urge to lean in and kiss him, but I won’t do that.
He’s not ready yet. I’m impatient, extremely so, but I understand these are his kids and this is a big change, so I’m trying not to let it get to my head.
Things are going well and I can’t ruin it over my insecurities.
I’m choosing to trust him, so I need to trust him.
This isn’t like last time. He told me that.
There are different circumstances now, and it’s the only reason he hasn’t said anything yet.
But because I can’t kiss him, I wink and watch him melt.
“I hate when you do that,” he pouts, turning to face the kids.
He doesn’t hate it. He likes it. Way too much. It’s my secret weapon that I enjoy using, just to tease him, especially when we’re out in public and he can’t do anything about it.
He never was a patient person. He’s always been needy and demanding, and I’ve always loved those two things about him. He’s vocal about what he wants, open too. At least, with me he is. When he has a safe space where no judgment is guaranteed.
I don’t give a fuck what people think about me and my life, so I’ve always been outspoken and open with what I want.
Adam needs a safe place for those things, and I guess when your safe place dies—his parents—and you get sent into foster care for a short time, then yanked away and sent to live with an aunt and uncle who had only heard about your birth and never met you, it’s difficult to be vulnerable.
I won’t say I know everything about Adam, or any of the other kids in foster care, but I did notice a lot of similarities in them, and I still see some of those characteristics in Adam today. Mostly, they all just want to be loved and accepted for who they are but don’t know how to express that.
I didn’t have a rough life, so I can’t put myself in their shoes.
I was always well taken care of and loved by my parents.
I saw them love hundreds of other kids too.
They had so much love to give, it seemed impossible at time, yet they always did it.
For years, that’s what my parents did, and it’s the most admirable thing I’ve ever witnessed.
I pull my phone from my pocket, and Adam asks, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Just texting my dad.”
I send a simple text, asking how he’s doing. I need to text him more, but every time I do, he says he’s fine and I should leave him alone. It makes me feel better for about two seconds, and then I’m worrying again—which is exactly what he doesn’t want.
“How is he?”
“I’ll find out in a minute.” I put my phone on my lap. “I should text him more often.”
“Maybe we should—never mind.”
“Maybe we should what?” I ask, but he shakes his head.
“Adam?” He turns his head to look at me. “You can say it.”
His face softens, and he gives me a small smile. “I was going to say maybe we should visit. I wouldn’t hate seeing him.”
My heart does a flip in my chest, and it takes everything in me not to kiss him silly right here, right now.
“That is the sweetest thing you ever could have said.”
His cheeks turn a little pink, and his attention goes back to the kids.
Fuck, I really do love this man.
“Okay, kids, don’t forget to take your bingo cards before you leave!”
Adam gets up from his seat, along with some other parents who were sitting around and listening in on the story. I watch Adam as he walks over to Judy and Ian, each of them holding a sheet of paper in their hands now. They look adorable and happy.
And he looks hot as fuck in jeans and a T-shirt.
“What’s this?” I ask when they come over to me.
“Bingo!” Ian says, shaking it near my face.
“Can I see?” He offers it to me, and I take it.
“There are different types of books in the squares. We have to read the book and write the title and author in the box. If we bring it back with a bingo before the date, we get a prize,” Judy explains.
“Wow, Judy, I’m impressed by your listening skills,” I say.
She beams at me, and Adam smiles too.
“You definitely don’t get that from your father,” I say in a mock whisper.
“Hey!” he says, swatting me. “I listen just fine.”
Judy giggles.
“Do you want me to hold this for you so you don’t lose it?” I ask Ian.
“Okay.” He holds his hand up for me to take. I look at Adam, who smiles and nods.
I take Ian’s hand while Adam takes Judy’s and then we make our way down the street to the parking lot.
“So, do you have any books at home to read?” I ask.
“Some, but not all of them.” She looks over her paper, brow furrowed in serious concentration.
“Well, we can come back to the library whenever we need to,” I say.
“We sure can,” Adam adds as he buckles Ian into his seat.
We find a restaurant to grab lunch, since the kids are hungry. The kids are well-behaved, but you can tell Ian is getting tired, so when we’re done, we go back to Adam’s.
“I was worried he’d be crabby for the rest of the day,” Adam says as he eyes a sleeping Ian in the back seat while we’re at a red light.
I turn to look at him, and find Judy sleeping too. I can’t help but smile.
“You made such beautiful kids, Adam.”
When I look at him, he has tears in his eyes again.
“Thank you,” is what he says.
“Thank you for letting me meet them. I’m sure it’s not easy for you.”
He shrugs, clearing his throat. “I trust you, Emmet.”
“Yeah, but it’s more than that. I know it.” I grab his hand and quickly bring it to my lips for a kiss, then let it go. But he takes it right back, linking our fingers together. They stay that way until we pull into his driveway.