Chapter 10
TEN
“So, how was the funeral?”
“So great! Lots of fun!” I wish I could say that Cason’s answer was the most over-the-top, but I think Reagan holds the record. She even did a cheering motion.
I refrain from smiling and sigh softly. “It’s hard saying goodbye to anyone, but especially a parent.”
Cason just slumps back in his chair, his right leg crossed over his other, and he’s picking at the rubber on his sneaker, not looking at me.
“I’m here to listen.”
He snorts at that and drops his foot to the floor, glaring at me with icy-blue eyes. “Why are you here? Seriously? Are you that new in your career that you still have a bright outlook or some shit? Because let me tell you...”—he leans in—“it’s not going to get any better. The next family you deal with will probably be worse.”
“I handle a lot of families’ cases every day. None are better or worse. You’re all unique.”
“Spare me.” He holds up a hand to stop me from speaking. “I don’t want to hear it or need to hear it. You’re not going to have that big breakthrough moment with me. My mom’s dead. We cremated her, and I think she’s chilling in the living room right now or something. I don’t know what we decided on because it doesn’t matter. It’s not her. It’s dust.”
I try not to frown, but I think I fail when his eyes move to my lips and then he shakes his head in pity. Pity for me and my emotions. “It’s still difficult to say goodbye. Memorials have a sort of finality to them.”
“Yeah? I think the finality for me was when I saw my mom’s wide-open, dead eyes, looking straight at me but not at all because she was gone.”
I should just end the session. I know he’s doing the best he can, but it’s not in me to just give up. I sat with Braylen, Kieran, and Reagan for the designated fifteen minutes, and I’m going to make it with Cason too.
“Do you want to talk about the day she died?”
“Fuck no.” He looks appalled. “You’re a social worker, not a therapist. Just ask the questions you have to ask so I can go. Are my basic needs being met?” He holds up one finger. “Yes.” He holds up another finger. “Do I feel safe here?” His eyes lock on mine. “Yes.” A third finger. “Do I have any questions for you?” He drops his hand. “No.”
I sigh. “Are you ready to start at a new school tomorrow?”
His jaw seems to be working hard, his teeth gritted. “What the hell does it matter? School is school. Just another thing to get through.”
“Or it could be fun.”
He scoffs. “Was it fun for you?” His eyes are cold as he studies me. “I’m guessing no.”
Do. Not. Take. The. Bait, I coach myself but don’t listen. “Why not?”
His lips quirk in an eerie sneer. “Please. Scrawny. Too pretty for a guy. Obviously gay. Nerdy.”
I do everything I can to school my features because he hit the nail on the head. School was hell for me. I was bullied relentlessly for all those things. “I don’t think you’ll have those issues,” I try.
He laughs, but it’s cold and unfeeling. “What, don’t you think I’m pretty?”
He’s trying to make me uncomfortable, and while I won’t comment on his physical looks, I don’t back down either. “I think you’ll be fine in school and are probably more like the kind that had me running when I was in high school.”
His smile fades, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Can I go now?”
I look at the clock and see it’s only a couple of minutes short, but I’m drained, so I nod my head. He doesn’t waste any time getting away from me.
Kellan must have seen him exit because he comes into the dining room a moment later. “All done?”
I nod, trying to stop thinking about high school and all the things I went through, but I’m not pulling that off. I don’t look up at Kellan as I nod and stand, gathering my things.
“Hey, you okay?” I lift my head up at Kellan’s concern, and his blue eyes nearly knock me on my ass. He’s just so beautiful. Stunning, really.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I hope school goes well for them tomorrow. If you need anything, you can call or text me. I’ll do my best to help.”
I start for the door but stop with a quick gasp when his heavy hand falls on my shoulder. He quickly pulls it away, but it doesn’t lessen the jolt from his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
My lips are pursed tight, and there’s a heaviness in my chest, but I’m working up to pull off the lie just as Braylen and Kieran come tearing into the room. “We’re hungry! When is dinner?” Braylen whines.
“Yeah. There’s nothing to eat here,” Kieran complains.
Kellan looks a little flustered now. “Uh. I’ll figure something out in a minute, okay?”
“Just order pizza! The kitchen still stinks from the last time you tried to cook,” Braylen shouts, and I laugh at that, pulling me from my mood.
“No. I’m not ordering pizza, and it wasn’t that bad.” Kellan looks really flustered now, his eyes on me. “We don’t just eat pizza, and I’m learning how to cook.”
I realize he’s nervous because he thinks I’m going to ding him for that. Because we aren’t friends. I’m not just here for a visit. I’m a professional, and I’m his caseworker. “How about I show you some basics? I wasn’t a great cook when I moved out on my own, but I took a couple of cooking classes. I’m happy to show you.”
“Is that part of your job description?” Kellan looks slightly suspicious and rightfully so. It’s not really something I should probably do. I haven’t done it for any other families, but he just looks so lost.
I shrug. “You all were my last visit for the day. I’m off the clock, and I love to cook.”
His brow is still furrowed, but I can see the warring relief there too. I desperately want to help him with this. It’s important to learn how to cook for his family. Totally justified.
I always try to go above and beyond for my families. I want them to thrive, and this is just one way I can do that. Would my boss agree? Probably not, but she’s a little jaded by the years. If I still have the will and the energy to want to go the extra mile, then why not?
“If you’re sure,” he says cautiously, and I can feel Braylen and Kieran watching us curiously.
“I am,” I say with far more confidence than I feel, but I have to help him with this. Anyone who wants to be a good guardian deserves that little bit of extra help. And I wasn’t lying about cooking classes.
The boys head to their rooms, and Kellan shows me into the kitchen, where I look through the fridge for something to make. I see fresh chicken breast and pull it out of the refrigerator, while Kellan leans against the counter, watching me.
I have to look away from him though. I swear looking closely at him is too tempting. Too tempting to wonder what his body would feel like against mine. Too tempting to want him to touch me. To kiss me.
This is so not good. So inappropriate. I quickly look away from him and find a pan so I can show him how to bake simple chicken. I continue to look away as I explain the steps to preparing everything, and I can feel his eyes on me but refuse to look.
“See? Easy.” His scent is strong and masculine, woodsy and sexy as hell as he walks closer to me to observe.
“I swear I’m not that bad. I tried spaghetti but somehow burned the pasta the other day. Okay. I’m really bad at this.” He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, and I can’t take that, so I do turn and look right into his eyes.
His beautiful, sparkling deep-blue eyes, and it nearly steals my breath. “Uh...” Words. Try some damn words, Phillip. “It’s not difficult to burn pasta. Just try to make sure you have enough water, not too high of heat, and sometimes you can add olive oil to prevent it from sticking.”
He nods his head, his deliciously plump lips parted as he takes the information in. We’re standing too close. I mean, I’m sure it’s not at all too close for him, but for me—I’m having a hard time remaining professional.
I have this strange urge to lean in and lick his neck, breathe him in like a crazy person. So I shuffle backward a little, under the guise of looking for a side dish, to give my brain and my poor disappointed body some room.
I help him prepare a salad and bake some potatoes to go along with the chicken currently cooking in the oven. “See? Nothing to it.”
He rewards me with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s small and a little crooked, but it’s magnificent. “Thank you.”
“Any time.” I barely manage to breathe as I push past him. “I should get going.”
“You don’t want to stay?” His question catches me off guard, and I stop walking suddenly.
“Oh. Um, I can’t.” I really, really can’t. I’ve already crossed the line being here. I know that, but I have to have some sort of boundaries. “Thank you for the offer though.”
Does he look disappointed?
I can’t tell, but his smile seems less real now. Maybe forced? “Okay. I’ll see you the next surprise visit.”
“Can’t wait.” I smile and then stand there, staring at him like a dope before I regain my senses and get the hell out of there.
I’m glad I could help him learn some cooking things, but I know I messed up today, offering to do that.
The biggest problem though...
I know I’m going to do it again.