Page 144 of Out Of A Fix

“I wanna buy it.”

I was quiet, not about to say a word.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re gonna live with her.”

“I am.”

“You asked?”

“I did.”

“And she said yeah?”

“Of course she said yeah. This is me.”

He wasn’t fooling me one bit.

“She loves your place, and that helped, so…thanks.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“I know you will,” he sighed. “And, Nash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m crazy happy for you. No one deserves a family more than you.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“And you know,” he said, instead of I love you.

“Same,” I assured him.

It was enough.

Despite being the one with the boys most of that Sunday—including all the puke cleaning—the bug did not get me. It got Luke instead. Around seven, he was the one on the floor of the bathroom, having turned an alarming shade of gray. He ran a fever, but not crazy high, and I ended up moving Dar over in the middle so Luke could get up and run to the bathroom when needed. He got the shakes, and when the fever finally broke around four in the morning, I was there to take the blankets off and change his clothes.

“This is not sexy,” he muttered.

“No,” I agreed, smiling at him, threading my fingers through his hair. “But I do like taking care of you and the boys.”

“You can’t sleep in that chair,” he told me. “Go out to the couch.”

“This chair is heaven compared to some of the places I’ve slept,” I commented.

“You’re not a soldier anymore, or a cop. You get a bed now.”

“Not tonight,” I pacified him. “Close your eyes.”

“I had plans,” he nearly whined.

I kissed his forehead. “I can’t wait to hear them.”

“I’m gross and sweaty and sticky, but I still want to sleep with you,” he confessed, his eyes drifting closed.

It was good to know.