Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Navigating the supermarket with a five-year-old is a Herculean task.
I have no idea how Hunter has done all of this over the past five years.
He’s a fucking saint.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy spending time with Lio. I really do. I somehow never noticed how big of a personality the little guy has, and I love getting to know him better. But all the stuff that comes with it? Doing laundry, cooking, getting groceries, cleaning…
Ugh.
I give myself another two weeks before I break and pay for a cleaning service. The only reason I haven’t already is because when Hunter once asked if we should arrange a cleaning service once a week, I told him I didn’t want strangers going through our stuff.
Well, I sure as fuck changed my mind. If that means I don’t have to clean Lio’s bathroom after he brushes his teeth and smears the whole bathroom with it, I can come around to the idea.
Lio walks beside the shopping cart, babbling on about the toy section we just came out of. “Daddy, can we go back and get that water gun?” Lio asks, his eyes wide and hopeful.
I glance at the chilly, overcast weather outside. It looks like it’s going to rain soon, and I shiver. “It’s too cold for water guns now. You can play with your car when we get home, okay?”
Lio lets out a disappointed sigh but eventually starts to hum again.
This is a completely different child from what he was just weeks ago.
He’s louder, happier, and full of energy, with nothing left of the fragile boy I was worried a harsh wind could blow away.
It makes me so fucking happy, and it’s all because of her.
She swept in and changed everything.
Stepping back and walking home last night, knowing Nash was sleeping next to her, holding her. Fuck, I almost went back and climbed into bed with them.
Fuck my reservations. I can endure an unwanted cuddle from my little brother if it means I get to sleep by her side.
Sleeping by her side is something else. When I stayed with her the night after what happened with that scumbag, I don’t think I have ever slept that well in my damn life, at least not for the last seven years, even if it was a short sleep because I couldn’t stop watching her.
Her chest rose and fell, and she even frowned a little and scrunched up her nose while asleep.
I needed to make sure she was okay, drugged like that.
All kinds of shit could have happened. Who knows where he got the shit from.
Good thing I woke up before her. Otherwise, she might have possibly killed me for holding her in my arms.
She’s fiery.
But also fragile.
Precious.
Yes, sharing will be difficult for me since the jealousy of knowing that Nash was the one warming her bed made me sleep pretty poorly last night. But at the same time, I was glad he was there.
She doesn’t want to be alone, she said. And right now, I’m not the one she’s going to allow to be there.
But that’s fine. I’m working on it. We all are.
We’re going to make sure she doesn’t have to be alone anymore.
Even if that means I have to swallow my pride and come to terms with my brothers fucking my woman. Which they already have, unlike me.
Because I fucked up.
I’m such a dickhead.
As Lio and I continue our expedition through the supermarket, and yes, it’s a trek since I still can’t seem to find my way around in this small-as-hell store, we find ourselves in the pasta aisle.
“Daddy, can we make lasagna today?” Lio’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he looks up at me from the lasagna packet that sparked the idea.
Fuck.
I ruffle his unruly hair. “You know Daddy can’t cook. I’ve absolutely no idea how to make lasagna.”
Lio puts on his thinking cap, which mostly involves furrowing his little brow. “But Uncle Hunt can cook lasagna. You should ask him how to do it.”
I can’t help but agree with Lio. Hunter does whip up a mean lasagna. He’s a magician in the kitchen, and I can barely boil water.
What am I even doing?
Maybe I should take a cooking class. Just as I’m mentally plotting when to fit that class in between my morning runs, Lio duty, and escorting Sloan to her van after her shift every night, Lio hits me with another unexpected suggestion. “Or we could make our own pasta!”
“I’d rather try to make the lasagna,” I tell him, and while he reaches out for the lasagna packet, I mutter under my breath, “This is going to be a disaster. I can’t cook for shit.”
A sly chuckle behind me makes me turn around to find Sloan trying her best to conceal her amusement.
I greet her, slightly embarrassed, “Hey.”
Lio, on the other hand, seizes the opportunity to involve Sloan in our culinary deliberations. “Sloany, tell Daddy how good I can cook pasta.”
She continues to wear that smirk when she answers, “That’s right, Lio is the best cook. You could make grilled cheese sandwiches. I showed him how to make them when we hung out.”
“Oh, yes, Daddy, can we make grilled cheese sandwiches? They’re better than lasagna.” Lio puts the packet back, and I stare at Sloan.
This goddess.
“You just saved my ass,” I whisper to her, making her chuckle. Having her smile and giggle because of me is a heady feeling. One I could get addicted to.
“I saved him. You can go ahead and get yourself food poisoning,” she whispers back. Ouch. “Doing some shopping over lunch? Where’s Hunter? Can’t he cook?”
Right, she doesn’t know.
I need to tell her but now isn’t the time or place.
Instead, I say, “Wanna come over and have lunch with us? Maybe help to cook? Please?” I cringe, trying to make her laugh, but she only breathes out through her nose.
However, there is amusement in her eyes when she raises a piece of cheese and some bread.
“Sorry, already got my lunch, but I’m sure you guys can manage to make grilled cheese. Or maybe you could ask Hunter for help?”
Lio chimes in proudly, “Daddy’s the cook now.”
I wince at the declaration, unsure whether to be proud or terrified. Sloan, however, raises her eyebrows at us.
“Well, then maybe Daddy should make sure he gets some of the holy grail as a backup.”
Damn, did she just call me Daddy? Focus, North.
I furrow my brow, puzzled. “What’s the holy grail?”
She doesn’t miss a beat as she walks away backward, grinning from ear to ear. “Dino nuggies.”
Thunder rumbles overhead, lightning occasionally piercing the darkness outside, briefly illuminating my van’s interior.
I’m alone, and it’s late, well past midnight, but sleep seems impossible with how the storm rattles and shakes the van.
The rain is pouring down relentlessly, and the raindrops on the roof are loud.
The heater is running at full force, and I’m grateful for the heated blanket since there are so many little cracks, especially in the back of the van, that allow cold air to draft inside.
When I woke up this morning, Nash was still snoring softly beside me, while Saylor was just gone again. We have to figure out if there’s anything we can do about it, anything I can do to tether him to me because I sure as fuck am done with him unwillingly disappearing on me all the fucking time.
North had kept his promise to meet me for our run, and when I returned, Nash was patiently waiting for me.
He mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to make it to the restaurant today because of some stuff he had to take care of and wouldn’t be coming over tonight either since it would be late by the time he got home.
I brushed it off with a nonchalant shrug, pretending it was no big deal. Deep down, though, my stomach twists with unease, wondering where he would spend the night instead, even though I knew I had absolutely no right to know or feel this way.
He isn’t mine.
But it was no use, and my head kept thinking about worst-case scenarios until I found North and Lio in the grocery store, North looking like a fish out of water. It was so damn funny and such a welcome distraction that, in hindsight, I was way too friendly with the dickhead.
Oh well.
I managed to keep a smile plastered on my face during my shift at the restaurant and kept everyone at arm’s length, even North, who came by toward the end of my shift, watching me work before escorting me to my van. I got in and locked the door behind me, dismissing him with a terse “Night.”
Something is off, isn’t it?
One day, they are all over me, and the next, they’re gone.
I know I’m complicated. I know I act like a bitch, but I can’t help it. I haven’t even heard from Hunter today. He made me open up only to vanish again, making me feel just as stupid as Nash, who shared my bed, only to jump into another one when he felt like it.
“You don’t know that,” my thinking brain utters into the room. “He said he had something to take care of, not someone.”
Since the wind howls through every little gap in the van, creating eerie sounds, I turn up the radio, but it doesn’t help. Suddenly, a branch from a tree I’m parked next to falls on the van’s windshield with a loud thud, and I jump.
Fuck.
There is another loud clap of thunder, and I cringe just before knocking starts on the van’s roof.
It’s rhythmic, probably a branch getting whipped on the roof by the wind, but all the sounds outside send my imagination into overdrive.
Without thinking, I grab my phone and call Hunter’s number. He picks up after the second ring.
“You all right?” His tone is shaky, and he sounds hollow like he’s in a bathroom or something.
“I-I’m sorry, did I wake you? Fuck, I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry.” My heart rate picks up. What the fuck was I thinking, calling him in the middle of the night because I was scared of a storm?
Hunter of all people.
“No, no, I’m awake, and please, don’t hang up. I wanted to call you too,” he says softly, his tone stronger now, and it sounds like a door is closing on his side.
“You did?” I ask, pulling the covers higher around me.