Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
“What’s your problem?” I look over at Cason, where he’s sitting next to me on the couch. Honestly, I’m surprised we’ve gone almost thirty minutes without fighting—that might be a record, but it looks like that’s about to end.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’re home early, and you keep watching the clock,” he observes. “Did you lose your job? Because that would suck.”
“I didn’t lose my job,” I grumble.
Nope. I just asked Tatum if he’d cover for me so I could leave an hour early because it’s Tuesday, and I haven’t seen Phillip since Raegan’s birthday. Knowing today is a Tuesday means he’ll be picking Rae up at school, and I didn’t want to miss him.
It’s possible I have a really big problem when it comes to my family’s social worker. I can’t stop thinking about him. Especially thinking about kissing him for real and not just on his forehead.
The fact that he’s a guy and I’ve never been into a guy before should probably be freaking me out, but it’s not. I was more than willing to dive right in, but apparently, the feeling is not mutual. I mean, he said it was, but I think—I know—that if he had given me the go-ahead, I’d have kissed him. Consequences be damned.
But then I look at my brothers and my sister, and I feel like a total dick because it could put them in jeopardy, and no matter how badly I want Phillip, I can’t and won’t do that to them.
So maybe Phillip was right to stop me from kissing him, but it doesn’t mean we can’t still be around each other. I look at my phone again. “Aren’t they usually home by now?”
Cason looks at me like I’m insane, and I’m kind of starting to feel that way. “You know Raegan has walked home from school since she was like five years old, right? In way worse neighborhoods.” I do know that, and it twists my stomach in knots, thinking about what could have happened to all of them.
But that’s not why I’m obsessing about the time. “She’s with Phillip. I know she’s safe.”
“Yeah, which is fucking ridiculous that you won’t just let her walk home, but she’s with her babysitter. So why are you worried?”
Because I want to see said babysitter. Thankfully, I don’t say that out loud. Cason would be all over that. “I’m not worried. It was a question.”
I hear a car pull up, and like a total idiot, I jump up off the couch and head for the door. I peek out the window, and my heart actually stutters in my chest when I see Phillip’s car.
Yeah, I’m not sure what the hell is happening to me here. But like the creeper I am, I open the door and watch as Raegan and Phillip both approach. A bag of something is in Phillip’s hand from the local ice-cream shop down the block.
“Kellan, you’re home early,” he says with a bright cheery smile.
“Uh, yeah. Light day.”
Raegan is looking at me weird as she brushes past me inside, and I’m happy to see a small ice-cream cone in her hand. Though I haven’t brought up the subject of her eating more, I do get a little thrill every time I see her actually consuming calories. I really don’t want to have to have that talk with her. “Sorry about this.” Phillip holds up the bag in his hand as he walks inside. “Thought we would stop for a little treat. I know it might spoil dinner, but...”
“It’s fine,” I say with a smile because I really like when he gets all nervous and rambley like that.
“You’re here!” Braylen says as he runs into the room to greet Phillip. My youngest brother has definitely fallen for our social worker.
“I am!” Phillip kneels down, pulling an ice-cream bar from the bag and holding it out for Braylen. “I brought you a treat.” Braylen starts to grab for it, but Phillip pulls it back, a knowing smile on his lips. “Did you do your homework?”
“Phillip, I don’t have homework,” he whines, and Phillip hands over the sweet treat to a delighted Braylen.
“Where’s Kieran?”
“Reading, of course,” Braylen says, unwrapping the bar and rolling his eyes.
“Will you take this to him? Quietly?” Phillip asks as he hands another one over to Braylen. Braylen nods and heads down the hallway on a mission.
I look over at Rae, who’s placing her backpack on the hook by the door. Things are still so awkward around here, but I really want to try. I’ve seen how fast Phillip has connected with all the kids—and I want that. “Uh, how was art club?” I ask.
She looks over at me, wearing the same annoyed face I usually get from her. “Fine.”
“Come on, Raegan,” Phillip says with an easy smile, handing a bar to Cason without speaking to him—he seems to understand that’s the best approach with him. “Tell him what you were telling me.”
Rae huffs but grabs a sketch book out of her bag and opens it up. “I know you don’t care about art,” she says to me, and I guess that’s true, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to see her art.
I don’t really know what to say to that though, but of course Phillip does. “He cares about you, kid. So of course he cares about art.”
I nod my head in dumb agreement, but he’s not wrong. She rolls her eyes, but she does flip through some pages, explaining a couple of things along the way, and I can’t help looking at her in awe. I don’t know much about art at all, but my sister is definitely talented. There’s no denying that.
I want to say that. Tell her how amazing I think she is, but the words won’t come out. And I’m sure if they did, it would be met with an eye roll. “I’m going to my room to practice more.” She folds the book closed and looks at Phillip. “Please tell me you’re cooking?”
I try not to take offense, but Phillip just smiles slightly and then nods. She’s happy with that and heads down the hall to her room. I move into the kitchen, hating that I froze up. That I don’t know what the hell to say to any of them.
“What’s wrong?” Of course, Phillip has picked up on my mood. He’s really good at that. He’s good at everything.
“I don’t know how to talk to them.” I feel like such a loser right now, admitting this, but I see no judgment.
He gets to work on dinner, but I can tell he’s thinking it over. “What do you mean? You talk to them.”
I scoff and start making the salad—he likes to add a salad to every meal, and I’ve found that all four kids eat at least a bite. “Kieran has said all of five words to me since he moved in. Braylen is starting to open up a little. And the other two? Constant sneering and hatred. And I don’t blame them.”
He slides the pan of chicken into the oven and closes it before coming closer to me. I fight breathing him in—I know that’s creepy—but it’s hard not to, and it takes everything in me not to just fall into him.
“You just have to find something they’re passionate about. Like Rae with art. She was really getting in to showing you her work. That’s good. It’s a great start.”
“So far, they seem to be passionate about giving me shit. And again, I don’t blame them.”
His hand covers mine, where it rests on the counter, and I feel a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm, making my heartbeat quicken. I nearly lose my breath but recover fast. When I look into his eyes, I know he felt it too, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His voice is strained when he speaks though. “You need to forgive yourself someday, you know?”
I shake my head, and I’m the one to pull away, turning to work on the salad. “That’s not happening.”
I hear a soft sigh, but thankfully, he doesn’t seem to fight the matter. Instead, he goes to the entry way between the kitchen and the living room. “Cason, can you come here for a second?”
Great—my number one tormentor. I don’t turn to face either one of them as Cason walks in. Surprisingly, there’s not much attitude when he says, “What’s up?”
“You have any hobbies?”
He snorts at that, exactly as I’d expect. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not. You have to have something you’re interested in.”
I can hear his indifferent shrug in the silence that follows, but I’m shocked when he speaks again. “I never had time for hobbies. It was mostly just keeping my siblings alive and fed.”
I wince, guilt tearing through me, but Phillip isn’t fazed in the least. “What about the sports?”
I look over my shoulder and see Cason’s amused face. “The sports? Really?”
Phillip is totally unbothered. “Yeah. The sports. The one in tight pants where they toss the ball around and ram into each other.”
“Football?” Cason helps, even though we both know Phillip is being ridiculous and likely knows what it’s called—though I’m pretty sure he’s being serious about not caring about the game.
“That one.” He points at Cason like he cracked a big case.
Cason just laughs at that. “Nah.”
“Any of them? What about the one with the bat?”
I’m expecting Cason to blow him off again, but he actually shrugs shyly at that. “I mean, it’s okay. I never played it for school or anything, but I like it in gym sometimes.”
Phillip’s whole face brightens up at that, and he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Excellent. I have an idea for after dinner.”
“What?” Cason looks worried, and I can’t help but feel the same.
Phillip just looks over at me. “You should invite Tatum over. I think he’ll like this.”
“Um, yeah, okay. Sure.” I do what he says because I mean—we all pretty much do, and Tatum joins us for dinner. After we eat and do dishes, half of us pile in his truck and the other half go with Phillip.
I ride in the passenger seat with Phillip. He’s being surprisingly secretive. “Where are we going?” I try again.
Braylen and Raegan are in the backseat but don’t seem too anxious. I don’t think there are any baseball games at this time of year, so it can’t be that. “You’ll see. It’s going to be fun.” He keeps his voice low. “And it will be good for Cason and all the kids.”
I decide to just sit back in my seat at that point and trust him. When we pull up to what appears to be a park, though I’m not sure what he has planned, we all climb out and walk further into the park. Then I notice what he’s thinking—batting cages.
“Oh hell yeah,” Cason says and actually does a fist pump.
“Oh, I’m here for this, social worker,” Tatum says, nudging Phillip.
“Yeah, somehow I thought you would be.” He grins at my best friend.
I frown, looking over at Tatum, surprised. “Really? Never had you pegged for a jock.”
We don’t talk a lot about Tatum’s childhood, but I know enough to know it was similar to mine. And kids like us don’t usually do organized sports. His large shoulders lift as we approach the cages. “You kidding me? There’s no better stress relief than smashing the hell out of a baseball.”
Huh. That makes sense. We get all the kids fitted in helmets. Tatum takes the first swing, smashing the hell out of the ball, just like he said, and then helps line up Braylen for the next one.
“I’ll be damned,” I say, standing on the sidelines next to Phillip.
“Not going to hit a few?”
I shake my head, watching as Kieran lines up. Tatum shows him how to stand and what to do. “I’m just happy to watch them. They like this,” I say and realize I’m smiling.
I can feel Phillip watching me. “You need to forgive yourself, Kellan, because watching you watch them,”—I turn to look into his eyes and see the sincerity in his words—“I know they’re in good hands.”
“This was you.” Again.
He shakes his head, his eyes going back to the kids, and my eyes follow as Cason moves to the next cage over and starts swinging. Not missing one. “These kids have been through hell, but you stepped up. You’re getting help, and you’re doing everything you can for them. That’s all that matters.”
I laugh when a rogue ball hits against the fence where we’re standing, and Braylen starts cackling uncontrollably, which has a ripple effect through us all. I don’t remember ever laughing like this—but Braylen’s laugh is contagious. He hiccups and finally catches his breath, only to start laughing again and making us all do the same.
I don’t even remember what we’re laughing about, but in that moment, we all seem so free in ways we never have been.
And whether he knows it or not, the man standing next to me is the reason for that.