Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to disappoint you,” she murmurs, kissing my cheek. “I know you want him to know, and he will. He’s just at an age where we have to be careful.”
“He’s brighter than you think,” I snap. My shoulders slump a second later. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. I just hate the years I’ve wasted without my son, and we need to make up for lost time.”
“We will.” She kisses me again. At least her lips are getting warmer now. “I’m the problem, Patton. I admit it. It’s not just his reaction I’m worried about. It’s losing this—losing you—when it’s all so new. Can we please just have a little time? Just so I can be sure.”
With a hand on her waist, I ease her back.
“I understand. This shit will shake up our lives permanently, no question. But I love the little man. And I want him to have a family. A real proper family beyond his mother, Salem, with everybody in this house knowing there’s a new little Rory to spoil.”
Her eyes twinkle as she pulls away.
“You love Arlo, huh?”
I blink at her.
“He’s my son, Salem. Of course I do.” The other words—the same ones for her—stop dead on my tongue.
Shit, maybe it really is too soon.
Now isn’t the moment. I can feel it in my skin.
And maybe I’m more like her than I think, holding back for the perfect opportunity, even if it’s hard to imagine.
Regardless, that perfect moment, that massive declaration, it isn’t happening tonight. That doesn’t make us bad people. It just makes me conflicted.
“I’m going back inside to talk to Mom,” I say. “Stay out here as long as you like. Keep the jacket.”
“Patton—”
“Think about what you want,” I tell her. “Because I already know.”
When I reach the door, I look back to see her huddled into my coat, too large over her slim shoulders.
She’s staring at the sky again with a look that’s way too much like I remember my old man wearing as the clouds move in, covering the tinsel stars.
Yeah, it’s hardly just Salem being ridiculous tonight.
I snort at my own stupidity and close the door.
21
DOWN AND OUT (SALEM)
It feels strange waking up in my own bed alone again.
My place has never felt smaller and it’s always been mouse worthy.
I take a minute to stretch, my fingers brushing the wall and my toes scraping the end of the bed. There are a few shirts strung up by the heater to air dry and a suitcase on the floor I haven’t put away yet.
Arlo isn’t awake yet, and it’s quiet as a tomb without Patton around.
Of course, he’s never stayed over here.
My choice, mostly—I didn’t want him hanging out in my crappy apartment when we could slum it in his mansion in style. But I also wanted a safe environment for Arlo, just in case things go sideways.
It always comes down to Arlo when my own selfish feelings aren’t in the driver’s seat.
He deserves better, but he also shouldn’t get too used to nice things when it could all come crashing out under us.
But if Patton walks out on me, he won’t abandon his son. Whether I like it or not, the Rory wealth is part of Arlo’s life now, and it could easily sideswipe his future. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
Ugh, why is this so hard?
I drop my head in my hands, jamming my fingers into my eyes until I see stars.
I’m doing what I do best.
Worrying.
The great family dinner, our big relationship reveal, it was all just a few days ago. How does it already feel like half a lifetime ago?
His whole family knows we’re a thing and I haven’t seen him since he took us home.
My fault. Partly.
But after the way he left me outside, I decided we needed some time apart, and he didn’t argue. Probably because he was frustrated I turned him down again.
Probably because I was a little thrilled he said he loves Arlo—and a lot let down that he wouldn’t say the word to me.
Also, we need boundaries.
Space. Borders. Walls.
Time in our own homes where we aren’t changing too much, too soon, and I don’t have to freak out about how it’s influencing my son. It’s just crazy unsatisfying.
I roll over angrily, jerking my phone from its charging cord.
He still hasn’t texted.
Fine, whatever.
I wasn’t expecting him to and he has no obligation. But every morning since that night, I’ve wanted to wake up to a message.
In a single frenzied month with barely any time alone and so much mind-blowing sex, Patton Rory has changed me into the unthinkable.
Spoiled.
That’s what I am.
He’s submerged me in kindness and stability I don’t know what to do with. I’m inexperienced, acting like a lovestruck teen when I should be handling an adult relationship.