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“I’m sure it is.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “You making another big dinner tonight?”
“Hell no. I filled my cooking quota for three months with that, buddy.”
“Worth asking.” He hopped off the hay and studied me for a moment. “You staying in here?”
I nodded. “For a little while, yeah.”
“I gotta head back to the site. Just forgot something at the house.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Wilder.” I smiled a little, making sure he could see just how much I appreciated him. “I don’t hate being here, you know.”
He laughed again. “Good. I don’t hate having you here.”
Then he walked out, and I exhaled slowly, sinking back against the column again.
Briefly, I wondered if I should be worried at how much I already seemed to depend on him. But I wiped that thought away and opened my phone to check on the email from Bea.
The subject had me narrowing my eyes.
NSFW prompts. Do not open if children are present.
Chapter 9
Ian
“So what did he say?”
Sage paused. “He said that my shoes were cool.”
Harlow hummed meaningfully. “And what did you say?”
“I don’t know, Mom, I just said thanks, I think?” The girl groaned, and the sound came out muffled like she was covering her mouth. When she spoke again, though, I could hear her clearly from where I stood in my bathroom. “He’s so cute, and his eyes are so blue, I’ve never seen eyes like his in my entire life. And when I saw him again on the playground, my whole body like, froze, and my heart was pounding, and I thought I was going to throw up.”
My reflection showed a smile before I registered the movement. My hair was still slightly damp from my shower, so I used some product that Poppy shoved into my hands the last time she saw me (something about texture and extra hold and how no one likes an unkempt man), tied it back into a ponytail, then washed the stuff off my hands and pushed my shirt sleeves up onto my forearms. I’d spent most of my Saturday helping Cameron with something at his house, but managed to sneak back home for a shower before heading over to my mom’s for dinner with Cameron, Ivy and Poppy. My sister Adaline was home from Seattle, too, sans her fiancé.
I kept the bathroom door cracked, because there was something comforting in listening to Sage and Harlow. At Sage’s age, I’d never thought about talking to my parents about the sort of stuff she confided to Harlow. Maybe it was a ten-year-old boy versus a ten-year-old girl thing, or maybe it was because I’d had Harlow.
Sage was still getting her footing at her new school, and the ease with which they talked things over reminded me, yet again, what a fucking amazing mother Harlow was.
“So you didn’t actually throw up,” Harlow confirmed.
“No.”
“Phew. That would’ve been awkward but not impossible to overcome.”
Sage giggled.
As I left the bathroom, I switched off the light and found them sitting at the table, Uno cards in hand, bright green goo covering their faces.
“Wha…”
Harlow gave me a sunny smile. “It’s a moisturizing facial. Want some?”
My brows flattened. “I think I’ll pass.”
“You should.” Sage crossed her eyes to try to look down her nose. “It feels so nice. Mom keeps it in the fridge, so it stays cold.”
“I thought that was leftovers that went bad.”
