Chapter 13
Ronan
Colton’s eyes stay fixed on my tattoo, tracing over the lines like he’s trying to understand every piece of it. For me, it’s more than ink. It’s a reminder, a rule, and a promise to myself about who I am and what matters.
“You can change in the bathroom, right through there.” I point to the open door — his hand trembles when he takes the clothes from me. I reach out and take his hand. “Why are you shaking?”
“I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I… umm…” he clears his throat. “I’ve never slept with anyone before.”
I know that’s not true because he was sharing the bed with Ollie.
“You slept with Ollie in your bed.”
He sputters, choking on air. “That’s not what I meant. I, err… I meant… Never mind, I understand now. I’ll just go get cleaned up and changed.” His face is red as he leaves the room. I stare at the closed bedroom door, trying to figure out what just happened. I try to work it out in my head.
I brought him to my bedroom. Told him he was sleeping in my bed.
Then we were going to share the bed. He’s nervous because he has never shared a bed with anyone.
No, that’s not right. He said he has never slept with anyone.
Difference. He’s a virgin, and he thinks I’m going to fuck him.
I want to, but not tonight. The thought of someone else touching him makes me feral.
Someone could have hurt him before I found him.
His being a virgin eases the tightness in my chest.
I finish getting ready for bed, waiting for Colton to come back into the bedroom. When he opens the door, he is looking at his feet. Walking over to him, I lift his chin with my knuckle.
“You’re a virgin,” I say. If he knows I know, then it should calm him. He pushes at my chest, but I don’t move.
“That’s none of your business.” He pushes again.
“But that’s why you’re nervous. Isn’t it? You said you have never slept with anyone, and then you turned red. Cause, effect, reaction.”
“Oh my God,” he tries again to push me away.
“Tell me why you thought I was going to fuck you tonight?” I ask. I want to know what he is thinking. Right now, his reactions make no sense to me. He makes another face that I can’t read. “That face,” I point at him. “What does it mean?”
“Are you trying to embarrass me even more? Isn’t my current mortification enough for you?” I let him go when he tries again.
“I don’t understand, and I’m trying to. I want to.” He turns around to face me.
“You really don’t, do you?” He cocks his head.
“No, I don’t. Believe me, it’s new to me too. But when it comes to you, I want to understand. I want to know what your expressions mean. So explain it to me.”
He sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows braced on his knees, his head bowed and his eyes fixed on his hands where they twist restlessly together.
“I misunderstood your intentions for bringing me to your room.” His voice is quiet, rough around the edges. “I still don’t really understand why you want to help me. I’ve never had that.”
He swallows hard before continuing.
“What I’ve had is a life full of people expecting something in return. Payback. Favors. People only doing things for what’s in it for them.” His fingers knot tighter together. “So when you brought me in here, I thought you were going to expect sex from me as payment.”
Something ugly twists low in my stomach so hard it almost hurts. The thought of him believing that, of him expecting to have to trade his body for safety or kindness or help, makes me feel violent in a way I don’t have words for.
I crouch down in front of him, close enough that he can see me clearly, but I don’t touch him yet. “I would never expect payment from you,” I say quietly. “Not for helping you. Not for protecting you.” His eyes lift to mine.
“I want you,” I admit, because lying to him would be pointless. “But not like that. Not because you owe me something.”
I hold his gaze, making sure he hears every word.
“If you picked Ollie up right now and walked out that door, I would still do everything I could to keep you safe.” My voice drops lower. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Only then do I reach for him, covering his restless hands with one of mine.
“Do you believe me?”
He nods and looks up. Then he does the thing that calms me from the inside out. He smiles. It’s a slow, gentle one, but it makes his dimples show. I lift my hand and push my finger into the one on his right cheek; it’s the deepest.
“Ronan, what are you doing?” His quiet laugh makes them even deeper.
“I really like your dimples. I’ve wanted to touch them since I saw your smile at the center. I don’t like it when I can’t see them. I’ll have to figure out what makes you smile and make a list.” He laughs even harder.
“You do know that’s weird, right?”
“You’ll get used to it. Now let’s go to bed. To sleep,” I add, so there is no other miscommunication.
———***———
“Da!”
“Da!”
I wake slowly. There is a weight on my chest. When I open my eyes, Colton has his head on my chest and his leg thrown over mine.
He sought me out in the night. Even though he was asleep, his body still knew to come to me.
I usually pull away from everyone’s touch.
Mom has a special pat-and-rub she does because she knows that hugging makes me uncomfortable.
But lying here with Colton’s breath ghosting over my chest is the most comfortable I’ve ever felt with another person.
“Da!”
I look over and finally realize that it’s Ollie whose woken me. Colton hasn’t stirred at all. I slowly extricate myself from under him, careful not to wake him. He needs to sleep.
I walk up to the baby cage, and Ollie is smiling up at me.
He has the same dimples as his brother. I reach out and touch one of them.
Ollie giggles. I like his dimples, too. I’ve met people in the past with them, but there’s something about these boys that has me hooked.
He raises his arm and yells “Da!” again.
I look back over to Colton, who is still sleeping hard.
I don’t want Ollie to wake him, so I pick him up.
Downstairs will be better. I need to figure out what to do with him once we get there.
I could call Mom, but she would probably show up instead of helping over the phone.
I close the bedroom door and head down the stairs.
Ollie gibbering the whole way. Does Colton understand him? Does anyone?
“Siri,” I call out. “What is the first thing you need to do for a baby when he wakes up? Give me a list in order.”
The first thing you need to do for a baby when he wakes up is to provide safety and comfort. Greet them softly.
“Pause.” I look at Ollie. “Good morning, Ollie, you’re safe. Siri, Continue.”
Check the diaper. If it is morning, then the diaper will need to be changed. Feeding…
“Pause.” Change his diaper. Okay, I can do this.
I don’t smell anything, so maybe it won’t be so bad.
The bag with the dinosaurs on it is sitting near the couch.
I grab it and bring it back to the kitchen island.
I’ll need a flat surface. I look at the marble countertop.
It’s a cold surface. I quickly go to the bathroom and grab a towel.
Placing it on the counter, I lay Ollie on it.
Looking in the bag, I find a diaper and a thing of wet wipes.
“Siri, save list. New search: How do you change a diaper? Pause between instructions.”
How to change a diaper: Supplies needed: wipes, cream, and a clean diaper.”
Okay, I’m missing cream. I dig around in the bag and pull out a tube of something. It has a baby in a diaper on the front. Diaper cream.
Lay the baby on a flat surface.
I look at Ollie, who is chewing on the new diaper. “Lie down,” I tell him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t move. I gently lay him back, careful of his head.
Unfasten the old diaper and remove it.
I unfasten the tabs on the sides and pull the diaper slowly away. Again, no offensive odors. As soon as I pull the diaper back, a stream of pee comes shooting straight at me.
For boys, have a wipe available in case of cold diuresis urination.
“Fuck!” I quickly grab the wipes and pull out several. I clean the piss off of Ollie and myself. My mom did this with four boys. What the hell was she thinking?
I get the diaper changed and work my way through the rest of the list to feed Ollie.
Thank God Mom had his breakfast sent up too, complete with instructions.
I follow them carefully, double-checking each step even though none of it seems particularly complicated.
Ollie makes it messier than it should be, managing to get yogurt on his face, his shirt, and somehow my hand.
By the time I get him settled into the highchair with the rest of his breakfast, I feel strangely accomplished. Ollie is still eating when Colton comes downstairs. I look up immediately.
His hair is still damp from the shower, curling slightly around his forehead, and he’s wearing the clothes I left out for him. Something inside me settles at the sight of him standing there in my kitchen like he belongs in it.