Page 44 of My Single Dad Biker

Boyfriend feels like the wrong word for what Holt is but I don't have a better one yet.

I go downstairs barefoot in his t-shirt and nothing else and find him in the kitchen making coffee.

He's wearing jeans and nothing else. The bruise on his shoulder has faded to yellow-green. He turns when he hears me and his eyes move over me in a way that makes my stomach tighten.

"Morning," he says.

"Morning."

"Coffee?"

"Please."

He pours me a cup and hands it to me and I wrap both hands around it.

We stand in his kitchen drinking coffee and not talking and it feels more intimate than sex somehow. The ordinary domestic quiet of a Thursday morning.

"Louis is still asleep," he says. "Usually wakes up around seven on weekdays."

I check the clock on the microwave. Six-thirty. "Should I go before he wakes up?"

"No. I want him to see you here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. He knows you stayed. I told him last night when I put him to bed. He asked if you were still here in the morning could he show you his rock collection."

My throat feels tight. "What did you tell him?"

"That you would be here and yes he could show you."

I take a sip of coffee to give myself something to do. "How did he react?"

"Said okay and went to sleep."

"That's it?"

"That's it. He's eight. His brain works different than ours. He likes you. You being here makes sense to him."

I'm still processing this when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Louis appears in the kitchen doorway in pajamas with cartoon dinosaurs on them. His hair is sticking up on one side. He sees me and his whole face lights up.

"You're still here!"

"I am."

"Dad said you might be. Can I show you my rocks now or do we have to have breakfast first?"

Holt sets his coffee down. "Breakfast first. You know the rules."

Louis climbs into his chair at the table. "What are we having?"

"What do you want?"

"Pancakes."

Holt looks at me. "You okay with pancakes?"

"I can help make them."