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The moment I was inside, I searched for Battista and Nevio, but they weren’t there. Maybe they were still at the Falcones, so I headed there. I was practically living there too.
Nevio wasn’t in the living room, though. Serafina was there, bent over her sewing machine with a look of concentration. She was working on a skirt and was busy attaching lace to the hemline. She always created beautiful boho-style clothes. Maybe if I ever married, I’d ask her to sew a dress for me.
“Where’s Nevio?”
“He and Battista are in Nevio’s bedroom because Battista was tired.”
I frowned. “Is everything okay?” It was still early for Battista to go to bed.
Serafina gave me an understanding smile. “It was an exciting day, for both of them.”
I nodded. “Can I go there?”
“This is practically your home too.”
I bit my lip. Despite spending so much time over here with Battista, I didn’t dare go into Remo’s wing without permission.
When I knocked at Nevio’s door a little later, nobody answered. Worried, I opened the door and froze.
Nevio was stretched out on his bed with Battista cuddled up against his side, one small arm thrown over Nevio’s chest. A book rested on Nevio’s stomach, and one of his arms was curled around Battista protectively. His eyes peeled open when I stepped inside. I gave him a small smile, feeling guilty for having been so worried, but given Nevio’s past escapades, I couldn’t help it.
Nevio extracted himself from Battista and got up. We went into the hallway. Nevio’s hair was tousled. “Do you want to check on him to see if he’s got a pulse?” he asked with a sarcastic twist of his mouth.
I flushed. “This was your first time being alone with him, and you chose to make a whole trip out of it, of course I was worried.”
“Everything went well.”
“Except for the ruined clothes, the missing diapers, the lack of healthy snacks, and the ruined bedtime routine.”
He took a step closer, backing me into the wall. “Except for that, yes,” he said in a low voice. “But I doubt Battista cared about any of those things. He won’t remember that I forgot to pack his bag, he’ll remember riding a fucking fire truck and having a great time with me.”
To my surprise, I detected a hint of hurt in Nevio’s eyes.
“You’re right,” I admitted grudgingly. “But being a parent isn’t only about doing the fun things.”
“Fuck, Rory. I know, and I’m doing my best. Maybe it’s not up to your high standards yet, and maybe it won’t ever be, but I won’t ever be like you. I’ll always only be the father I can be. Maybe I won’t do things how you would have done them, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do a bad job.”
“Battista looked happy on the pics you sent me. Thanks for thinking of me,” I said as a sort of peace offering. Actually saying I’m sorry to Nevio wasn’t an option at the current time.
His eyes seemed to grab me by the throat. “I always do.”
I looked away, clearing my throat.
Nevio’s gaze traveled along my body. “I like you in scrubs. They look sexy on you.”
I shrugged, pretending not to care even as my body heated. “They’re functional.” I slipped away to bring more distance between us. “I need to figure out a way to get him into his bed.”
“I can carry him.”
“I need to change him into his pajamas.”
“He’s actually in his pajamas. I changed him after we arrived.”
Surprise washed over me, followed by suspicion. “What did you wash off him?”
Nevio sighed. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me closer. “You’re really good at giving me a hard time.”
“This isn’t me giving you a hard time.”
