He scooted over and patted the seat next to him.
I shrugged out of my jacket and pushed my boots off. I plopped my ass on the cushion and leaned in to kiss his shoulder. “Did you miss me?”
He cocked a brow. “Desperately, seeing as there is a load of dishes that need to get done.”
“So, you only keep me around to do your dishes and laundry?” I hedged, needing the fun, sweet bickering.
“Well, not theonlyreason. You give good head and getting better every time,” he teased and stretched out his arm behind me.
I chuckled and bit my lip in indecision. Getting lost in him for an hour or two was appealing.
“What’s up? What did you want to talk about?”
I took a moment to pull up the mental list of things to discuss with him. “You never asked what my situation was, just listened when I needed you to. But I want to explain things.”
“Okay. My listening ears are on.”
“One of the issues that caused so much strife between my parents and I is the fact that my grandmother left everything she had to me. Her house and her money. It was put into a trust until I turned twenty-one, which is fast approaching. Needless to say, they’ve been challenging my inheritance for years.”
He shifted toward me, and absently stroked my shoulder. I wondered if he was unaware of what he was doing or if it was just a natural reaction. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.”
I bunched my shoulders up. “My father views my actions as a betrayal, so he is doing everything in his power to take what Nana left me. She gave my lawyer some money to take care of my inheritance and he’s a pit bull in court so I’m not overly worried about losing. He insists they’re grasping at straws and have no real case. But my father lined the pockets of important people with power and manipulated the legal system to request a hearing to determine my competency.”
He sighed on a huff and dug his fingers into his jeans. “I’m trying to be useful and listen, but I really want to punch your father in the face right now.”
I grinned. “That’s sweet.”
He rolled his eyes. “When is the court date?”
“End of March. We will plead our cases to a mediator, and they will make the decision. My lawyer thinks they will rulein my favor. But…the reason I’m telling you all this is because I wanted to ask you to be my support system. I keep telling myself I don’t give a shit what my father thinks, but honestly? I’m terrified of seeing him again. And—”
“You don’t have to ask twice. I’ll be there.”
I squeezed his warm thigh and leaned into him, beyond grateful to have him in my life. He pulled me in and kissed the top of my head. I felt precious in his arms, as if he’d miss me if I went away.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, holding back the tears.
“I think you know that I care about you,” he said.
I nodded against him. I thought he wanted to say more because he made several breathy sounds as if he were going to speak. Eventually, he said, “I tried calling my parents the other day.”
I gave him my attention, his beautiful green eyes glassy, his emotions plain in his expression. I wanted to be someone he could talk to the same way he was for me.
“I used to call once a year to let them know I was still alive. The conversation was always brief, and I was promptly informed that unless I wished to repent, they had nothing to say to me. I hadn’t called in three years until now. The number is disconnected. I have no idea if they’re still alive and I suppose I’m too afraid of knowing because if something happened to them, then that means I lost my chance to reconnect no matter how improbable it might be.”
By the time he was done speaking, he was in tears. I pulled him close and he cuddled up against me, his face buried against my chest.
“We’re even,” I teased gently as I ran my fingers through his hair. “I got to slobber all over you, now you get to slobber all over me.”
He chuckled and we held onto each other for a long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SEAN
The courthouse was buzzing with activity. All the commotion was irritating Matteo and I wanted to yell at everyone to fuck off because I was feeling protective of him. He hadn’t slept all night, and the weariness was plain on his face. Every time someone walked by the corner we’d chosen to wait in, he stiffened as if he expected it to be his parents.
The past few weeks leading up to the day of the hearing had been rough. Matteo was constantly anxious and jumpy. We’d spent our nights in my bed as we usually did but he wasn’t in the mood to fool around. Mostly we talked about our trauma, and it seemed to help him knowing someone had gone through what he had. The only bright spot had been last weekend when we’d tag-teamed handing out food and clothes to the immigrants. I wanted to see that smile on his face again and the light in his eyes as he chatted lightly in Spanish with the kids while passing out treat bags.
