Page 111 of Scoring Eden

He puts his hands on his hips. I stare at Eden, silently pleading with her to handle her son’s interrogation. She doesn’t help me. Part of me thinks that it’s because she’s enjoying my blatant discomfort, but the rest of me thinks it could be something else.

Two things can be true at once, I suppose.

Her lip disappears between her teeth as a gleam of uncertainty settles across her gaze. Maybe she’s not confirming our newfound relationship status because she doesn’t know what it is. Maybe she’s not answering because she wants me to be the one to do it.

She’s waiting for me to be brave. She’s waiting for me to stop running.

“You’re right, little man.” I clear my throat, though I’m not looking at him when I say it. I’m looking at his mom. “We’re friends that kiss now.”

My throat feels a little scratchy, and my heart is beating so vigorously I’m sure it’s trying to break free of my chest. But it’s worth it to see the way her face transforms. How the hesitation disappears in place of a smile so bright it rivals the morning light. The way her green eyes glimmer with a look of pure adoration. It heals something inside of me.

And if the sight of her like this doesn’t solidify my decision to keep her, then I don’t know what will. I flick her a wink, thinking of all the ways I’m going to worship her again later.

“Um, guys?” Macon waves his hands between us. “You know I’m still here, right?”

“You think we could forget about you?” Eden lunges for him and executes a ruthless tickling attack until tears are rolling down his cheeks from laughter. Panting, she leans back on her knees. “But, seriously, how do you feel about us being…friends that kiss now?”

Macon taps his chin like he’s pretending to think it over—a trait he inherited from Aspen, I presume—until, finally, he beams and throws his arms around his mom. “Everyone at school is gonna die when they find out Alex Wolfe is my new stepdad. Are you guys gonna have a baby? I’ve always wanted a baby sister.”

Eden balks. “Hold on, honey, we’re not at the marriage stage yet.”

I wait for the inevitable roil of panic in my gut and the life-threatening heart palpitations, but they never arrive. In fact, the thought of Eden with my ring on her finger and a little Alex in her belly isn’t an unwelcome one at all.

Huh. Maybe I’m growing up.

“You’ve come a long way.”

My jaw unhinges. “Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn’t catch it the first time.”

Dr. Sharma offers me one of her eye rolls that I’ve grown used to over the last few months.

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know? It’s wildly unprofessional.”

“And you shouldn’t fish for compliments,” she admonishes, but she’s smirking as she does. “But in all seriousness, the last time I saw you, you were extremely reluctant to discuss your parents with anyone, and now you’ve told two people. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have encouraged you to choose a child to first confide in, but I’m not upset with the results.”

“Well, it wasn’t like I was trauma dumping on him. It was just relevant at the time, and he seemed like a…” I trail off, staring out my favorite window at the trees waving outside.

“A safe option?” she finishes for me. “I get it.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “He was cool about it.”

“And Eden?”

I smile as I think about her eavesdropping on my conversation with Macon and what it had led to.

“She made me wonder why I hadn’t told her sooner.”

Not just because of the sex. But because she’d made me feel safe enough to share. There was no pity. No judgment. Only warmth and understanding.

Dr. Sharma places her notepad facedown on the table and leans forward in her armchair. “Last time we spoke, you told me you were experiencing unfamiliar sensations in your chest. Did you have that assessed by a doctor?”

“No, I figured it out.”

Her lips twitch knowingly. “And what was your conclusion?”

“Respectfully, Doc, I don’t want to say the words to you before I’ve said them to Eden.”

I watch her fight a smile. For a therapist who I’m sure has undergone rigorous training to remain impartial, Dr. Sharma has surprisingly little control of her face. But maybe that’s why this therapist/client relationship works. I’m not sure I’d have felt as comfortable with someone who acted more like a walking AI than a human with their own emotions.