Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALWAYS ON MY MIND
SADIE
I take a shower before bed, my mind replaying my recent interactions with Weston. There have been a couple of times now when I thought he might kiss me. It could totally be my imagination…in fact, I’m sure it is. It’s probably just me wanting that.
When exactly did I start to see him differently?
When did it become impossible to stay angry with him?
I have to dig deep to even have negative feelings toward him right now when he’s being so good to Caleb and me.
It’s still wrong for me to be having any feelings , or whatever this is…because he slept with my sister.
But they weren’t an ongoing thing. They didn’t have a relationship.
Downplay it all you want, but you know how hurt Sasha would be to know you’re even thinking these thoughts about him.
That’s the thing though—none of this would be happening if Sasha were still alive.
She obsessed over Weston Shaw, but she also equally obsessed over Timothée Chalamet, Robert Pattinson, and Ryan Reynolds, to name a few. Weston was just a little more accessible than some of her other obsessions.
I was shocked that when she got pregnant with his baby, she didn’t camp out on his doorstep and demand that he take care of her and the baby. It was out of character for her not to do that. It seemed like she got what she wanted—time with Weston, his baby—and then she was afraid to make one wrong move that might take Caleb away from her.
Knowing Weston the way I do now, I know he wouldn’t have taken Caleb from her, but my sister didn’t know that.
Regardless of what Weston and Sasha were to each other or what they might’ve been eventually…they have a child together.
I have no place in Weston’s life beyond being a caretaker of Caleb.
I wash my hair and body distractedly and then step it up in case Caleb wakes up once more before I get in bed. I slide under the covers, sighing when I feel how soft the sheets are. My satin tank and shorts feel like heaven against my skin after my hot shower, and the soft sheets are the cherry on top. My eyes close and my mind once again goes to how it felt to have Weston’s arms around me.
Caleb starts crying and I jump up, hoping I can get to him before Weston does. I feel bad for how much Weston has been up with him during the night this past month. Caleb is quiet before I reach his door and I carefully crack it wider, my breath catching in my chest when I see Weston barechested and— are those boxer briefs?! — rocking Caleb in the rocking chair.
He’s singing softly—“Little Blue” by Jacob Collier—and it’s so poignant and beautiful, I stare at them like I’m being lulled into a trance myself.
His eyes lift, and he pauses his singing for a second, his eyes slowly taking me in from head to toe. My nipples pebble under his gaze and his eyes get stuck there before trailing down the rest of my body. I rushed in without a robe, so I’m hardly wearing anything…but then again, neither is he.
I can’t force myself to look away. When he lays Caleb in his crib….when he stalks toward me, his eyes predatory as he advances closer…I can’t tear my eyes away. I know the way his broad shoulders and muscular arms felt holding me, but seeing them is on another level. His chest is spectacular, and the eight-pack leading to the V makes my mouth water. My eyes venture lower and the bulge sightings on the websites did not do this justice. All of this is seen through a nightlight, but it’s bright enough for me to see him get bigger right before my eyes.
He stops within an inch of me. I swallow hard and look up. His breath skates across my skin when he leans in and my peaks brush against his chest.
“Looking good, Chapman.”
He moves past me, and when I get to my room, I’m shaky as I get under the covers. It didn’t mean anything, right? He can compliment me without it meaning he wants me. Although that doesn’t explain him getting hard when he saw me. But that’s probably just because he hasn’t had sex in a while. He hasn’t had time to since Caleb and I moved in.
I force myself to not think about the way he looked stalking toward me, the way his breath felt against my ear as he whispered that I looked good. I shiver and eventually fall to sleep, dreaming about all kinds of X-rated activities with Weston Shaw.
I wake up the next morning, feeling surprisingly ready to face the day. I jump out of bed with more energy than I’ve had in a while, and after I check on Caleb who’s still sound asleep, I get ready to go to Weston’s favorite coffee shop. I haven’t worn eyeliner or anything more than a little mascara and lip gloss since the last time I worked a shift, and it feels good.
If it works out, I might go to the apartment after the coffee shop and get more clothes. I don’t have much more than what I brought, but I’ll get some of Sasha’s clothes and bring anything that’s left of hers to go through here. Somehow that feels easier to handle than trying to do it in the apartment where I can only see all the places she’s missing.
Caleb is cooing in his crib when I walk out of my room, and the way he smiles up at me when I reach him fills my heart up.
“You are so adorable,” I tell him.
His smile widens and he starts babbling, which is new. I crack up, wishing Weston could hear this.
“Are you trying to talk?” I lean down and tickle his neck softly, and he laughs. “I’m so lucky to be in your life,” I whisper as I pick him up. “I love you so much.”
I change his diaper and wash him with a warm washcloth. I’ll give him a bath tonight before bed, but he loves the warm washcloth, so I always do that in the mornings. I’ve noticed that Weston does that now too, and the thought makes me smile. He’s a good dad. We’ve both gotten better at all of this in a short amount of time. It’s amazing what a trial by fire can do, but I still don’t feel like a pro and doubt I ever will.
After I’ve checked the weather, I pick out the long-sleeve grey and white romper that looks like a baseball jersey. It has a C on it. Sasha got it at her baby shower, and it’s one of Weston’s favorite outfits on Caleb. But when I try to put it on, it’s too little.
Just another thing that makes me tear up. I try really hard to pull it together, but I shed a few tears while I pick Caleb up and look in his closet for something in a bigger size.
“Mornin’,” Weston says.
I turn and his smile drops.
“Did something happen?” he asks.
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “Everything makes me cry these days, I guess. Caleb’s outgrown our favorite outfit.” I point to the romper, and Weston frowns.
“Aw, not that one. Are you growing too fast, little guy?” He reaches out to pat Caleb’s arm, and Caleb bucks, waving his arms wildly when he sees Weston.
I laugh and hand him to Weston, who immediately dives into Caleb’s neck with raspberries. Caleb cackles and we both crack up. I settle on an outfit and Weston places him on the changing table, making faces at Caleb while I get him dressed.
“I can’t believe this fits him already. I bought it before he was born and then when I saw him, it seemed like it’d be forever before he could wear it,” I say.
“It’s really cute. I think it’s my new favorite. You have good taste, Chapman.” He laughs when Caleb starts babbling. “What are you saying? What?” He looks at me, still laughing, and he looks so beautiful it halts my breath for a few seconds. “Are you hearing this?”
I laugh. “I was hoping you’d hear him. He was doing it before you came in too.”
“Our boy is trying to talk, yes, he is,” Weston sings, smiling down at Caleb, and my heart flutters inside before it catapults to the floor.
Our boy.
A whole slew of emotions takes over—joy, pain, elation, and guilt.
Always the guilt.
I know Weston doesn’t mean anything bad by saying that. My nephew is my boy, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to not feel like I’m his mama too, and I just don’t know what to do with that.
I mask my feelings and keep a smile tacked on my face, knowing if I let it drop even slightly, I’ll crumble for the rest of the day.
For the first time, I wonder how Sasha would’ve dealt with losing me if our roles were reversed.
She probably would’ve hidden her pain by partying every night. That was her go-to for anything. If she was down, party. If she was happy, party. If she wanted to get laid, party. If she needed free drinks and food, party.
We were always the opposite of one another. Where she was confident and the life of any room, I was shy and awkward, preferring one-on-one time with her. She had a lot of friends, but I really only needed her. She was jealous when I started working and made new friends, but she’d disappear for days with her friends and not understand why I wanted to know where she was. I was older, but she lost her virginity first. She never met a stranger and could talk people into anything. I, on the other hand, take a while to warm up to someone and if I tried to talk someone out of something, they were sure to do it. She was charismatic and charming and beautiful, and I was the smart, practical one.
For once, maybe I should take a page out of Sasha’s book and see if maybe she had the right idea. I don’t need to go as far as partying, but trying to have a little fun wouldn’t hurt.
“Where’d you go?” Weston asks, bending slightly to meet my eyes. “You look nice, by the way.” He smiles and my mouth goes dry.
“Thank you. I, uh…I was just thinking it’ll be nice to get out of the house for a little while.”
“Ahh. I’m so glad you’re coming with me. You’ll meet Clara. I already know you’ll love each other.”
Right. Clara. I’d almost forgotten about her.
We feed Caleb and change him again before we leave for Luminary, and even though we were up in plenty of time, we’re still twenty minutes late.