Page 45

I nearly choke to death on my own tongue. “Uh. What?”

Elio rolls his eyes, but luckily, the car line starts moving again so we can roll up a few spaces. I see his para near the gate, rocking back and forth on her heels, waiting for us to make it to the entrance.

“Look, it’s obvious you like him⁠—”

“I don’t,” I say, probably a little too quickly. “Also, I’m married⁠—”

“Yeah. To an asshole, and you haven’t actually been together in years⁠—”

“Elio, language!”

“And the marriage is only technically,” he adds. “You’ll be divorced soon.”

I pass a hand down my face and pray these next six kids don’t need to check every single part of their backpacks before getting out of their cars. “I’m not interested in dating anyone,” I tell him. “And besides, Easton’s—” I stop myself immediately because my usual argument about him being straight for anyone else who happened to notice my planet-sized crush on the man is now dead in the water.

Because he isn’t straight. At all.

He’s touched my dick. I’ve touched his.

And he liked it.

It’s a whole thing now.

I take a deep breath and pull up as the rest of the cars depart, throwing on my hazards since it always takes a few minutes to get the ramp out so Elio can get out.

“Dad,” he says as the door slides open, “if you did date someone, I hope they’re like Easton.”

I twist back and look at him as he fiddles with the joystick on his chair. “You really think he’s that great?”

“He doesn’t talk down to me. He also doesn’t do that really annoying thing where he calls me, like, champ or sport. And he doesn’t do that thing where he makes a big deal about how I’m some superhero who can save the world from my chair or whatever.”

Nancy appears and smiles over at Elio. “Hey, champ! Ready to go kick some education butt and work on your career as future president?”

Elio rolls his eyes toward me, and it takes literally everything in me not to burst into laughter. I swallow several times, take a few breaths as Nancy unlatches the chair, and then Elio directs himself toward the ramp and starts his descent.

“Be good. Don’t get into any fights!” I call after him.

He gives me a salute before hurrying ahead of her. Nancy looks torn between chasing after him and talking to me.

“Just go. It’s been an average morning,” I tell her.

She looks relieved and turns to walk off as I hit the button to retract the ramp and close the door. I give myself a single moment of silence, knowing I’m taking up space in the line, but most of the parents are cool about it.

Across the lawn, I see Elio making his way up to the building, chatting with one of his friends, who’s jogging along beside his chair, and my heart feels a little light. Nothing feels normal right now, but the routine helps, and it’s with a small grin that I pull away and immediately stop in the Dunkin drive-through for a coffee.

I skip the donut because that would be cruel, but I take a photo of the coffee because even if Elio weren’t disabled with a strict diet, he wouldn’t be drinking this shit anyway. At least, not yet. So I don’t feel bad about the selfie with me smiling beside all that sweet cold foam.

And it helps a bit as I make my way toward the apartment, closing my eyes at the red light and saying a little prayer that Neal has given up on me being there. It’s not a long drive, and I’m still a little antsy as I pull up, but I don’t see his car anywhere, which allows me to breathe a little easier as I pull into a guest spot and hop out.

The walk to the front door is long, and as I come to a stop, my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.

Closing my eyes, I pull it out and brace myself for it to be Neal.

But it isn’t.

Easton: Good morning. Hope I didn’t make things weird last night.

Me: You’re fine. You can stop worrying. It was a fun time.