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Rue sighs deeply. “This is getting painful. Okay, so you’re right and I’m wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
I lean over and hug her, surprised that went as well as it did. Maybe it’s not just me who has changed since Dean left me—maybe she has, too, from having Nolan and me here.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you, too.”
“Do you want help with dinner?”
“That would be great. Can you finish dicing that onion for me?”
“Yep. And then I think it might be time to open another bottle of wine.”
I peek around the corner to the living room, where Nolan is still fast asleep, his mouth open and one leg hanging off the couch.
This is all the quiet time I’m going to get this evening. I’d better soak it in while I can.
“Let’s make soup,” Nolan says a few hours later, wide awake and cooking away at his pretend kitchen set.
“Mmm, good idea. How about some sleepy-time soup?”
He shakes his head. “Noodle soup. You pour.”
Yawning, I give him a generous pretend pour from the plastic pitcher I’m holding.
“Okay, there’s some broth for you. What else do we need? Carrots?”
“Carrots and noodles,” he says, pretending to stir soup in a bowl and making a whooshing sound.
My phone is on the ground next to me, and I glance at it. 10:27 p.m. That evening nap I let him take is coming back to bite me in the ass.
“Extra noodles!” he proclaims, now dumping the pretend contents of his bowl into a plastic pan.
“Extra caffeine for Mommy, please.”
“You want crackers?” he asks me.
His expression is so tender and sweet; it melts my heart. Nothing has ever felt as right to me as being his mom does.
“I’d love some crackers. And will you put extra spices in mine?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
He shakes and stirs some more until we both have steaming bowls of pretend soup in front of us. I feign taking a spoonful.
“Oh, it’s still hot, be careful. You have to blow on it.”
Nolan blows so hard that I can feel his breath on my face. I forget just how tired I am as we eat our soup, and then make pretend brownies and eat the entire tray.
It’s nearly eleven by the time I convince him to lie down for stories. When he goes to pick out a couple books for me to read to him, I text Pike.
Me: Sorry, won’t be able to talk tonight. My little Energizer Bunny is still going and I’m practically texting in my sleep.
Pike: It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow night. Good night to you and Nolan.
His understanding, and his inclusion of Nolan, makes me smile. Even though I don’t know what the future holds, life is pretty amazing right now.
Nolan climbs up into bed with a stack of four books. One of them is a compilation Frog and Toad book with more than twenty stories in it.
He snuggles up next to me and I remind myself how much I’ll miss this someday.
At least we don’t have to be up early in the morning.
Chapter Twenty
Pike
* * *
“Corn Nuts?” I look over at Pax, holding out a bag of his favorite snack to offer me some, and I grab a handful.
“Thanks,” I say, remembering Indie’s stance on Corn Nuts and missing her.
I wish she were next to me on this flight. Vegas to Tampa always feels like a grind.
It was just yesterday that we kissed, and then she wasn’t free to talk last night, so I had to leave for a stretch of away games this morning with things between us still unsettled. I slept like shit and will probably be a cranky bastard on this trip. As much as I’m dreading telling her about the bet, I’m also ready to come clean so we can hopefully move forward together.
Maverick is walking down the aisle toward his seat after using the bathroom, and I swear his expression is satisfied, like a guy who got laid last night and is living his best life. I fight the urge to throw my neck pillow at his stupid face.
Looks like I’ll definitely be a cranky bastard on this trip.
I look around the plane and spot Kingston. Even though he’s sitting just a couple rows in front of me, I take out my phone and text him.
Me: BET’S OFF! It was stupid of me to do it in the first place, and now someone told Allie Lansing about it.
Kingston: No shit?
Me: Yeah and I’m pissed. So it’s off and if anyone asks, you and I have only ever bet on stupid shit like who can eat more pasta before a game and not have to hurl after the first period.
Kingston: Okay.
I grab my breakfast bag and sift through it. Our trainers make us food bags when we’re traveling, and this one has an egg and veggie sandwich on flatbread, a banana, and some yogurt. I down the sandwich and the banana, and then lean back against my neck pillow and put on my headphones.
