Chapter 36
SHAY
I blink, slowly waking up in my absolute favorite way: surrounded by Kolton. I tighten my arm around his warm waist and slide my leg over his. He sighs like a satisfied cat.
“Morning,” he murmurs and brushes a curl from my face.
I steal a taste of his collarbone, brush my lips back and forth. “Is it Jackson time yet?” Otherwise known as Jackson bursting in here and launching himself on our bed time, hence why we don’t sleep naked.
Kolton places a lingering kiss on my cheek. “We should have a few minutes.”
I squeeze closer. “Like how many?”
“I could be quick.”
“You don’t do quick.” Last night’s marathon on the floor, then in the shower, then on the bed has me sore in the most delicious ways.
“True,” he says. “But you love it.”
“So much,” I agree and nuzzle in closer.
I feather one finger over his firm chest and draw letters, like our game back in Aspen, writing on each other’s skin.
H-O-O-K-E-D, I write.
He chuckles and writes: A-D-D-I-C-T-E-D
I follow with: M-O-R-E
More time. More us.
Every day that passes, it feels like our time in this bubble of happiness is slipping away. An end I don’t want to acknowledge. Kolton doesn’t write anything in reply, but his heart races beneath my palm. Like he’s worried, too.
The store’s grand opening is in one week, Kolton’s flight home leaves in two, and neither of us has broached the subject of our future.
Granted, we agreed to enjoy our moments together, not get bogged down with future planning, but there’s no denying our timeline.
I have a feeling Kolton is delaying this big discussion for the same reason as me: to see what happens with Concept and my possible promotion.
I can’t make huge decisions about my future until I know all my options, until I have a clear picture of what I stand to gain and lose.
Kolton not rushing me into a decision after his intense wooing means the world.
His phone buzzes from the night table, startling us both.
I lift up to my elbow and glance at the screen. “Shit. It’s Stella. Get the pillows. Jackson will be here any minute.”
Laughing, we roll to our respective sides of the bed and grab the pillows from the floor to create our Jackson barrier. On cue, the little guy barrels into our room and launches himself onto the bed, landing shoulder first into my pillow-shield.
I peek over my white barricade. “Morning, Jackson.”
Instead of replying with his usual good morning, he says, “We need to go to the library. I need to finish H and buy more pencils ’cause the orange is too short, but Aunt Stella says I hafta go to pottery, but I really, really need to finish H. So, can we go to the library? Please? Can we?”
I could easily be swayed by his cuteness, but he’s scratching his left knuckle, a nervous tic I’ve noticed when he’s upset, and he curls his back into my pillow, a puckered frown on his face.
Kolton and I share concerned looks, then he stills Jackson’s fidgety hands. “Did something happen at pottery last week?”
Jackson stops scratching for half a second, then he digs deeper with his nails. A spot of blood smears across his skin.
Worried now, I mouth what’s up to Kolton. He shrugs, but his jaw is tight.
Kolton sits up cross-legged and drags Jackson onto his lap.
“If something happened at pottery, bud, and you don’t want to go back, I need to know what it is.
We’ve paid for the classes, and you’re in the middle of building that awesome…
” He squints, like he’s trying to decide what Jackson’s latest project is.
“Piece,” he finishes. “I won’t get mad, but you need to talk to me. ”
Jackson’s narrow shoulders curve inward. He nuzzles his face into Kolton’s neck, his glasses pushing at an awkward angle. “The kids there are mean,” he mumbles and resumes scratching his knuckle.
Kolton’s molars clack together as he wraps his arms tighter around his son. I barely refrain from tearing out of the house and finding the little heathens who bullied Jackson. Kids can be so cruel.
“Did someone hurt you?” Kolton asks, clearly trying to stay calm. He kisses Jackson’s knuckles, where his skin is red and bleeding. “Did someone call you names?”
Jackson wiggles impatiently and sighs. The exasperated sound is more suited to a forty-year-old.
“Samantha said my pottery was ugly and pushed it off the table, but when I told the teacher about it, Samantha lied and said it was an accident, but I know it wasn’t ’cause it was just after she called me a… ” His longwinded sentence trails off.
Kolton lightly nudges Jackson. “Called you what, bud?”
“…A freak.” He pulls up his socks—one red, one blue. “I don’t wanna go back.”
Now I want to send this Samantha kid on a train to the Arctic.
I know exactly how Jackson feels, the embarrassment over being different, teased, left out.
I wish he knew how much better life gets when you’re older and you find your people.
He also needs to know how lucky he is to have a family who supports him.
“It’s okay,” Kolton soothes, but he looks ready to spit nails. “I’ll come with you and—”
“Was it the pigtail girl in the yellow dress?” I ask, interrupting him. “The one fighting with her mom when I picked you up last week?”
Jackson nods and goes to scratch his knuckles again, but Kolton whispers, “No, bud. Leave it.”
I sit cross-legged, facing them, and place my hand on Jackson’s knee. “Know what I think?”
He looks up, bottom lip pouting, trembling.
“I think,” I say gently, “that Samantha’s folks maybe don’t let her wear two different socks. Maybe they don’t make her purple peas and spend time with her in the library. I think maybe she’s jealous you get to do and wear all that cool stuff.”
The morning sun shines through the curtains, casting light across Jackson’s pinched face. “You think?” he asks, his voice so quiet I almost don’t hear him.
I nod decisively. “Yeah, I think. I feel kind of bad for her, don’t you? It would suck if you couldn’t do those things, right? If you had to be like everyone else? You have it pretty good.”
Jackson chews his bottom lip. “Should I bring Samantha some peas today?”
My heart swells ten sizes. This kid deserves every good thing. “Brilliant idea! And…it was going to be a surprise, but I made you some purple apple slices yesterday. We can add those.”
He scrambles off Kolton’s lap, already lunging for the edge of the bed. “Purple? Really?”
“Yes, really. Head on up, and I’ll be there in a sec to help you.” Relieved he feels better, I turn to Kolton. “Sorry if I overstepped. He just seemed so sad, and I’m guessing you’ll still talk to Samantha’s parents, let her know what happened, but at least….”
I trail off, because Kolton isn’t even looking at me. His intense focus is on the duvet between us, his brow pinched, one hand pressed to his sternum.
“Kolton,” I say and touch his thigh.
He jumps slightly and shakes his head. “Sorry, what?”
I explain again about Samantha’s parents, but he seems off: swallowing too much, his face and neck flushed. This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed him this distracted and off lately, either. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Sorry.” He wipes his forehead and offers a partial smile. “Just worried about Jackson. And thankful you were here to make him feel better.”
“Unfortunately, I’m well acquainted with bullying.”
The veins on his reddened neck tense. “Mean kids are the fucking worst. My cousin Heather has cerebral palsy, and the fuckwits in school never let her forget she walked differently, thought differently, and couldn’t do gym like the rest of them.
I defended her as much as I could, but I hate that I can’t be there for Jackson. ”
“You’re his safety net at home, though.” Along with Stella and Sawyer and Nico and his grandparents. A lot of love in his corner. “He knows he has you to lean on.”
Kolton nods and stares at me a moment longer, his neck still flushed and jaw working.
He’s clearly upset about Jackson. I mean, if I feel this protective of him, I can’t imagine how Kolton even lets his son leave the freaking house.
But the other times he’s felt distant and distracted haven’t always been when Jackson is around.
“You’re sure nothing else is wrong?” I ask.
He blinks a few times, then cups the back of my neck and pulls me into a tender kiss, obliterating everything but him. “What could be wrong with you in my life?” he says against my lips.