Chapter 2 #3
“You’re a real Sportypants,” he told me. “James said you’ve tried a million sports over the years.”
“James isn’t the type of man who will throw out a million unless he’s telling me the story of when youse visited the Arctic Circle and were attacked by mosquitoes.”
He widened his eyes. “We saw a bajillion of them! Locals were like, silly Americans, don’t come here in the summer. Well, excuse me for having the midnight sun on my bucket list.”
I grinned.
“But don’t derail me, Mister,” he added quickly. “Were you a jock in school?”
I tipped my head, weighing the answer. “Maybe half a jock? I played football, but it wasn’t my whole identity. I wasn’t working toward a scholarship or tanking my mediocre grades to spend more time on the field.”
He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “That tracks. What’s your favorite sport?” He put a hand over his heart. “Mine is testing hamburgers and reviewing them. And live tracking the migration of some birds, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I laughed. “My favorite sports are the ones I can participate in with my kids. Following my beloved Philly teams aside—and religiously keeping track of our national teams in various sports—it’s more about something that we can do together.”
“Like playing golf with Dylan?”
“Like playing golf with Dylan.” I inclined my head. “Mikey’s apparently taken an interest in chess, so that’ll be fun to get involved in.”
“And Hallie plays soccer, correct?”
Was this really what he wanted to be doing? Talking about my kids?
“She used to,” I said. “She quit recently in order to focus on her grades. Now she goes swimming with Nate and Dylan sometimes. Or she goes running with me.”
Man, I missed those days. As a family, we’d tried everything. We’d mixed things up. From shooting hoops to shooting arrows, from throwing footballs to throwing darts. Swimming, soccer, golf, drone racing, orienteering, skiing, snowboarding, diving, baseball, climbing, bouldering…
I sighed.
Jordan was about to say something, but two knocks on the door cut him off before the first word was out. James was here. And Jordan didn’t look freshly fucked at all.
Was that the plan?
“Did you distract me, boy?”
He smirked and climbed off my lap. “That was just a bonus.”
“A bonus as a side to what?”
“The mental lists I’m making so I can anticipate your needs,” he replied with a shrug, then closed the flap on the back of his PJs. I wasn’t sure I approved of that part. “I mean, I’m plain interested too. But knowing the people you love is to know you. And vice versa. Poetic, right?”
I…didn’t know what to say, and he was already heading for the hallway. But Christ, where had this boy come from? He couldn’t claim I was the only one working to become a good partner.
Oh, and he was definitely a switch. The Little in him was always present or very easily drawn out, but it was going to be interesting learning the ways of someone who was a subbie with dominant tendencies.
A sweet, mischievous Little who was a natural at making decisions and taking charge?
He’d keep me on my toes, for sure.
He was in for a rude awakening at some point too, because I couldn’t be bossed around.
I listened as Jordan opened the door and greeted James. After the initial “I missed you today” and “How did it go with Emmett?” Jordan dropped his voice to a whisper, and I only picked up the words, “not staying long.”
“Oh?” James uttered. “I thought we were gonna—”
Jordan shushed him and said something else that was too quiet for me to hear.
For chrissakes, was this gonna be a thing? Because I’d nip it in the bud real fucking quick if Jordan thought he could make decisions for me.
I was gonna let this play out, though. I wanted more evidence and confirmation. More than that, we were in the early stages of figuring something out, so we didn’t have a protocol yet. So…yeah, I’d simply observe Jordan further so I’d be better prepared when we hammered out our rules.
But “not staying long” meant I had to come up with a new plan for tonight.
I wasn’t ready to hit the sack for another couple of hours, I’d already eaten, I’d worked out…
I guessed I could finish unpacking the new shit for the upstairs bathroom.
Ma had ordered a bunch of towels and whatnot for the kids.
I could also sit here in my underwear and listen to Enya.
Nathan Riley
I’d reached a new low.
In a split-second decision, right when Ash had turned the key in the door, I’d discovered that I was suddenly sick.
I’d used my morning voice to let him know I wasn’t feeling well, and he’d swooped in to cover our let’s-get-the-kids-ready-for-school routine for the both of us. So, now…I was just lying here in the living room with the covers pulled up high while Ash prepared breakfast for the children.
My back kind of hurt, though. That was almost like being sick.
Which I blamed on this motherfucking pullout couch.
They’d promised me at the store that it was comfortable enough to sleep in long-term.
They were fucking wrong. I missed my bed.
I missed the bed Ash and I had shared for years. I missed having him right next to me.
I yawned and checked the time on my phone.
Another thirty minutes, and then the house would be empty.
“Dad, can I drive?” Dylan asked, coming down the stairs.
“Yeah, sure,” Ash said. “Sweet Jesus, son, how much body spray are you usin’?”
My mouth twitched, and I screwed my eyes shut.
The answer was an obscene amount.
“It’s just one spray!”
“How long is that spray? Sit down—eggs coming up. Milk in the fridge.”
“I like it, Dylan!” Micah said, right before he coughed.
Lily cracked up.
I exhaled and pretended this was an ordinary Friday morning, when everything was fine, when Ash and I would kiss before parting ways for the day, when we had plans for the weekend…
“Youse’re ridiculous,” Dylan huffed. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s not feeling well,” Ash replied. “I’d say he’s asleep, but youse can’t keep your voices down to save your lives.”
Safe to say, Dylan’s accent came from Ash.
It was a source of amusement in the Riley family, how Lynda and Geoff came from the fancy Main Line, where you absolutely did not say youse or use slang, but both Ash and Theo were rougher around the edges.
They had gone to public school, not private, nor, in Geoff’s case, boarding school in Connecticut.
For the record, Ash couldn’t keep his voice down either, but I’d always wanted a loud, rambunctious family—after how I’d grown up. No siblings. A mother who’d gone out every weekend, leaving me alone. Thank fuck, my dad had fought for me. But even so, it’d only been him and me for a long time.
When I’d met Ash and he’d so bluntly described the future he’d wanted, he had written the pages for my future as well.
My chest fucking hurt. Life was happening in the kitchen, and I was here, doing everything in my power to avoid the conversation Ash wanted to have. I knew it was one of two things. Divorce. He’d met someone. Or both. Could be both too.
I was fucked. I couldn’t let go of him, and I couldn’t go on the way we had.
The divorce was happening.
But before we sat down and talked in private, he would still be here in the mornings. He’d still stop by most of the time for the bedtime routine.
I wished I could drag it out forever, but I was fairly sure Micah had picked up on something being wrong.
This week, he’d turned into the family shepherd.
Whenever we were all under the same roof, he was herding Ash and me together for a double hug.
He wanted us in the same room. He’d already asked Ash if I could at least try to eat breakfast, and then I could go back to sleep when they were off to school.
“And more toast for the princess,” Ash said. “Good crunch?”
“The best crunch,” Lily responded with her mouth full.
“Perfect. I’mma go talk to Dad and then see what’s takin’ Hallie so long. Don’t burn down the kitchen.”
Dammit.
I took a slow breath and hoped I looked asleep.
“Hug him, Dad,” Micah ordered. “Okay?”
Oh, sweetheart.
“Yeah, of course,” Ash replied. “Everyone knows you need extra hugs when you’re sick.”
“Yeah,” our boy agreed firmly.
It wasn’t long before I heard Ash entering the living room.
I steeled myself.
“Nate?” He came around the bed and sat down on the edge, way too close to me. “You asleep?” The fucker crossed all the lines when he combed his fingers through my hair.
That small touch was enough to break an already broken man. Emotions welled up; my eyes burned behind closed lids, and my chest felt too tight.
Please stop right now, never stop, continue forever, take me back, fix us, save me from myself.
“I’m trying to be,” I forced out.
I was so weak that I shifted my head closer to his knee, a silent request for him to keep his fingers right there. It felt so damn good. I couldn’t even describe how deprived of touch I was.
“I’ll leave you alone in a bit,” he murmured. “You want me to take the kids to my folks for a sleepover after school? It’s been a while since they saw each other.”
That was not what I wanted at all, but it was the perfect solution.
I could use today and tonight to get my shit together—just enough so we could do something as a family tomorrow night.
The weekends were really all we had left.
The workweek was packed with excuses for us not to spend time together.
“Might be for the best,” I muttered. “You’ll be back tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’ll probably leave Haverford after lunch,” he answered. “And, uh…I was thinking, if you feel better later today, I could find a quiet place and call you. We really need to talk. It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
Of course he didn’t think it was bad. And he didn’t think I would find it bad either, because I was the absolute idiot who’d told him I wanted him to move on and be happy.
Well, guess what. That was called fucking lying.
“If I feel better.” I swallowed hard and inched away from his touch. The hurt made it easy to roll over and face away from him, and now I just wanted him out of here so I could cry my eyes out.
Ash and I had raised our children to be honest about how they felt—and that crying often made you feel better afterward, because it was like releasing a valve and easing the pressure bottled up inside.
Something that’d worked best for Lily and Micah, both of whom struggled with anxiety.
But not all pain could be cried out. Every goddamn time I broke down over Ash, it did nothing to alleviate the agony.
“All right. Uh, rest up.” Ash rose to his feet. “Want me to order your usual for lunch?”
Don’t remind me. Please don’t fucking remind me.
We didn’t order each other lunch when the other was sick anymore.
“I’m fine. I’ll reheat some leftovers,” I said. “I might head over to my office anyway.”
“That seems smart. To work when you’re sick.”
Whatever. I didn’t have any patients today, so I could either rot away here or I could catch up on paperwork.