Page 97 of Golden Ruin

“The end,” Sterling says, then shuts the book as Jax rubs his eyes.

“One more time?” he asks, which draws a laugh out of Sterling.

“You barely made it through that one. But I tell you what, I’ll read you two when I get in tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Actually,” I cut in, interrupting Jax’s cheer. “Mom and Benny asked to take him to the movies tomorrow. They said they’d take him to school the next morning, so he can stay over. Sorry, I should’ve thought about the date. I–”

“No, it’s fine,” he says, smiling as I ramble. “We’ll hang out the next night, and I’ll just have to read you three stories.”

Now, Jax is practically wide awake again, excited about the new plan.

“All right, bud. Love you. Get some sleep.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

Jax flips over until he’s facing me, curling his small body underneath mine as his eyes close. The phone’s still aimed toward me, and Sterling’s still sitting there. Neither of us tries to hang up, so it seems we’re no longer just on this call for our son.

“So, how was the shoot?”

He shrugs as his background shifts. “As expected.”

He’s always so nonchalant about things like this. Not in an arrogant I’m the man sort of way, just in the sense that… he’s not moved by the shit most people would be moved by. He’s more grounded than I realized, more focused on what really matters.

Jax is starting to snore softly as Sterling moves around his hotel room, dropping down on the bed right before his background goes dark. There’s a pale blue glow that I assume is coming from the TV, but there’s no noise, so it must be muted as he focuses solely on me.

He flips onto his side, propping the phone in front of him before a silver wrapper comes into view.

“No fucking way you’re about to eat that right in front of me.”

“Watch me,” he teases, unwrapping the Pop-Tart painstakingly slowly, then takes a bite. “Don’t you wish you were here?”

I laugh quietly, trying not to wake Jax. “Yes, because I’d beat your ass and take it right out of your mouth.”

He takes another obnoxious bite, then sets it aside. He flips to his back again, holding the phone above him. His bare chest is in plain view, and I’ve probably fallen asleep there a thousand times before.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, and I nearly say too much.

“Nothing specific. Just… thinking.”

He stares through the screen, and I take a breath when it starts to feel like he’s also staring through me.

“You look exhausted,” he says. “Have you been sleeping okay?”

How does he do that? Read me so well even from so far away?

“I get a few hours here and there.”

That’s all I admit, keeping to myself that the reason I’ve been tossing and turning is because he’s been away.

“Is it your arm?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“It doesn’t hurt much anymore. I didn’t even need to cover it today.”

“Then, what is it?”

I stare at him, and it’s amazing how much I feel when I’m not fighting it so hard.

“Talk to me.”