A tear slid down Riot’s cheek. “OK.”
“But hey, don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” I said, kissing his forehead. “We can go out today, and maybe they have a new version. That could be fun, right?” I wiped his tears as he nodded.
“That could be fun,” he agreed in that soft rasp of his that always broke my heart. Fucking Celeste…
“Then how about you leave this one with me, and go grab your shoes. We can go out and pick a new one now. How does that sound?”
He nodded eagerly before he threw his arms around my neck. I hugged him back tightly, breathing in that powdery scent of his.
I didn’t realize I could love anyone as much as I loved him. I had loved Rosalie with everything I was, but Laz was different. He was my son. My flesh and blood.
He was my sweet little boy. I’d die for him, without a doubt.
He pulled away from me and ran off to his bedroom to pick out his shoes. Deciding I’d better help him so he wasn’t trying to wear two different shoes, I followed, but paused when I saw Enzo pulling on his suit jacket in his bedroom.
“Hey,” I said, leaning against his doorjamb. “Uh, you slept with Cole last night?”
He grunted. “Something like that.”
I stepped into the room and noticed a mark on his neck.
“Is that… a hickey?” My stomach tightened.
“Cole,” he muttered. “He’s a damn lamprey when he’s wasted.”
“Oh,” I said, watching as Enzo fixed his tie. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“He jerked us off last night after we fought.” He looked at me. “We missed you.”
“Seems like a lot of work to come,” I said, gesturing to Enzo’s neck. “A lot of extra steps…”
“He was drunk and in his feelings. I fucked up and pissed him off further.” He moved toward me. “Just watch him today, OK? He’s pissed over this Rosalie thing.”
“I mean, it’s a big thing,” I said.
“I know, but…”
“It’s not our problem,” I finished for him, knowing that’s what he’d say.
He nodded tightly. “Right. She has lots of people looking out for her. We can try on our end, but we can’t invade her life. It wouldn’t be fair.”
I nodded, my throat tight. He was right. I honestly didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about Rosalie these days. Mostly because I was so busy with Laz. Plus, it just hurt too damn much. So I pushed onward and knew she was out of my hands. I did things to occupy my mind, like going to Mayfair to help with projects.
I knew I could be a professor there, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I’d done an accelerated program after losing Rosalie. I held a PhD in medical chemistry and pharmacology with a focus in biochemistry. It was, essentially, my life’s work, and I was damn good at it. I’d only just received my PhD, but Mayfair had been banging down my door to get me back on campus. I’d gone out to celebrate with the guys at Fox’s grave. We’d gotten so wasted as we sat there, drinking his favorite beer. We’d ended up sleeping in the cemetery at his grave all night. It was almost like old times, except he had left us, and Rosalie was gone.
But here I was.
Dr. Ethan Masters, a potential Mayfair professor.
I never thought I’d see the day. We’d joked about how far I’d come as we sat on Fox’s grave.
“So you’re going to look into all this with her? Like, who might have done it?” I asked, shaking the memory away.
“Yes.”
