Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
CASSIUS
“Are you sure you’ve got this?”
There was no disguising the uncertainty in Dylan’s tone.
Between that and the way he hesitated at the door and asked me the same question for the fifth time, maybe I should have been rethinking this whole thing.
Sure, I’d never looked after Mikey by myself for longer than thirty minutes before, but I could do this.
What kind of parent would I be if I couldn’t handle twelve hours with my kid—something I’d actually insisted on rather than sending him to Mom and Pop?
“We’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan. Plus, Mom and Pop are less than a ten-minute drive away.
” Because yeah, I wasn’t completely naive.
While I wanted to handle the whole day without interference, I wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to my backup plan.
That being Mom and Pop. “Mikey loves me. We’ve got this. ”
Dylan pursed his lips, studying me carefully. Ensuring I gave off my usual cocky, confident vibe, I smiled. His gaze softened as he peered at the quiet staircase, up where Mikey was miraculously sleeping in. Shifting his attention back to me, he bobbed his head.
“Mikey does love you, and I’m sure you’ve got this.”
I was pretty certain there was a silent “think you’ve got this,” but I let him say his piece.
“Just reach out to me or your folks if you need anything.”
Quick to reassure him, I said, “I will.”
When his brow dipped, I wasn’t sure he was buying it. While I understood his hesitation, it didn’t mean his uncertainty didn’t sting.
“I promise. I’m not going to screw this up.”
“It’s not that.”
My shoulders relaxed at the speed of his reassurance.
“I just know Cassius Britton isn’t synonymous with failure.”
I winced, feeling my cheeks heat.
“And I don’t want you to think asking for help and not handling the whole day by yourself is failure, because it’s not.”
Since I’d already planned to not be a hero and ask for help, I agreed with him. But again, the bite of a sting that he expected me to need help didn’t exactly feel great.
Rather than reassuring him again or attempting to challenge him or even letting him know the impact of his words, I instead leaned against the newel and folded my arms. With a smile, I said, “You’re going to be late.”
With a flick of his eyes to the hallway wall clock, Dylan blanched. “Fuck.” He tightened his hand on the bag on his shoulder, gaze roaming over me one last time.
And hell if I didn’t do the same. In his dark blue uniform, he looked hot as hell. Not for the first time, I appreciated how well his shirt stretched over his broad chest, and once he spun around, that ass would inevitably draw my attention.
Admiring my husband without wanting to fuck him into the mattress was totally a thing.
Thankfully, his “Okay. I’ll call you a little later and will keep my cell on” tugged me away from my bad, bad thoughts.
“Uh-huh. Ass out the door.”
With a roll of his eyes, Dylan smirked. The sight relaxed something further in my gut.
“I’m going. I’m going.” With that, he hightailed it out of the house, the sound of the engine starting a few seconds later.
I huffed out a shaky breath, not feeling half as confident as I’d tried to convince Dylan I was. The skittish nerves dancing through my system needed to take a hike.
Parenting Mikey, finally being able to step up, was everything I didn’t even realize I wanted or was able to do.
My promise to Paula had been all that had held the possibility of being a parent back. Okay, maybe not quite all. The fear of Dylan’s reaction, the absolute terror of my best friend losing his shit and me losing him, remained a huge factor.
But this way, we could be a family, and I could be the dad I never dared to dream I could be when Paula had been pregnant. Hell, or even after.
The first time I considered the alternative was that time in the lawyer’s office.
Dylan not discovering I was Mikey’s biological father weighed down on me every breathing minute. But my promise to Paula when she’d asked me, practically begged me to be her donor for her insemination had outranked all the promises of not keeping secrets from my best friend.
And in some ways, she’d been right. Maybe.
She’d convinced me this was about her and having the “best” genes for her child. Yeah, there’d been a bit of ego when I’d first contemplated saying yes. That she loved me and her child being part of me helped her argument. Then it had become about speed—a willing donor—and supporting Paula’s dream.
Being told this was her one shot had convinced me.
I’d argued at the time to let me talk it through with Dylan.
She’d been convinced he wouldn’t be supportive, especially with my tendency to react first, consequences be damned.
That would have made it awkward, hell, maybe impossible for me to go ahead without his blessing, knowing it could have possibly destroyed our friendship.
And I’d wanted to do it. Wanted to support Paula. Give her the child she craved.
That I’d never given Dylan a chance to have an opinion was shit. I’d never know how he would have reacted.
But along with that, it was my decision. And Paula’s.
The truth was, I hadn’t wanted him to be rational and talk me out of it. I also didn’t want to go against him if he’d point-blank told me he didn’t want me to follow through.
There’d been no backing down when I’d handed over the cup. And honestly, at the time, I’d handled it fine. Even when Paula had been eight months pregnant, I’d managed to compartmentalize, knowing I’d be competing for best uncle status.
Losing Paula during childbirth and not revealing the truth had been the hardest thing I’d ever done. The white lie bled deep shades of gray every day that passed by. Right along with my aching heart and my battered soul.
This was my chance to make things right for Mikey.
That I deceived my friend every fucking day… Jesus, that was a stain I didn’t want to think too deeply about.
But fuck, I wasn’t perfect. I was flawed. Made huge, gigantic mistakes.
I should have told him then, in the hospital. But how could I when he’d just lost his sister and become a dad? He’d needed me to step up and be his best friend. If I’d told him the truth, it would have made the most difficult time in his life infinitely worse.
I believed that with everything inside me.
Burying my unraveling thoughts as deep as possible, I pushed away from the doorframe and headed into the kitchen. No way would Mikey stay asleep much longer. It was close to six thirty, and usually he’d already be racing around the house.
Being an early riser myself, I could appreciate his morning energy. Dylan thought we were spawned from some sort of morning devil, since the man couldn’t truly function without two cups of coffee.
Me? I liked a decent cup of coffee, but my energy levels tended to be high at the best of times.
Add caffeine to the mix and overly enthusiastic and I became friends.
I peered around the kitchen. With Mikey’s booster seat permanently strapped to one of the chairs around the small kitchen table and his cereal bowl already out, I had no idea what the hell I did next.
Talk about being out of my depth.
I had to handle this. Had to be able to cope.
I wasn’t usually this clueless. Whenever I stayed in the past—and most definitely over the last few days—it wasn’t like I sat on my ass. While I’d been following Dylan’s lead, I was a capable human being, fuck you very much.
Taking a calming breath, I reminded myself of that.
Laundry. That was just one of the domestic tasks Dylan seemed to do daily since Mikey was born.
With a plan, and after checking the mobile unit was switched on so I’d hear Mikey wake, I stepped into the small laundry room.
Splitting the load, I organized a dark wash. When the machine was on, the water rushing in, I returned to the kitchen. I filled the dishwasher, then went about cleaning the countertop.
The rest of the house was tidy, something we did last night.
Picking up after Mikey after a hard day of playing was a daily task and for good reason. There wouldn’t be a spare patch of floor space if we didn’t. The kid really liked to spread out.
A thump, the pattering of feet, and my heart bloomed in my chest.
Mikey was awake.
I headed out to the hallway, spotting him when he reached the top landing of the staircase.
He looked disheveled and ridiculously adorable in his Spider-Man jammies.
“Morning, Mikey. Good sleep, little man?”
Beaming at me with his wide grin that I was convinced was identical to mine, he bobbed his head and bounced up and down on his feet. As I headed up the stairs, my nose twitched, the scent hitting me.
But I had this.
Wet bedsheets weren’t a big deal, and the kid was still three weeks away from his third birthday. It wasn’t like he still wouldn’t be having accidents.
“Shall we go and get you washed up before breakfast?” I stopped on the staircase when I was only a little higher than him. It was easier to meet his gaze this way.
With a nod, he tugged at his pj bottoms, pulling a face. My lips twitched at the movement. The gesture was all Dylan.
“Pee-pee bed.”
While he didn’t seem happy about the revelation, he wasn’t hung up on the accident either.
“Not a worry. Let’s get you into the shower, huh.”
“’Kay.”
And then he raced away into the family bathroom.
By the time I’d entered, the kid was butt naked and searching through a small toy basket kept in the bathroom. While he grabbed a couple of superhero action figures, I turned on the shower and waited to get the temperature right.
In no time at all, I hosed Mikey down and was treated to a battle between Wolverine and Superman. I didn’t dare tell the kid they weren’t in the same universe. After getting him dressed and stripping his sheets, we headed downstairs for his breakfast.
I sat with him, ignoring the new chores of making his bed and washing his sheets. Sitting here, having breakfast with the kid, or in my case a second bowl of cereal, was a treat.