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“Uncle Tatum!” Valarian screams, rushing out. Anyone would think they've known each other all their lives, what with Valarian's excitement. I haven’t seen him look so alive in ages. At the same time Tatum scoops him up, there's a knock on the door.
“That would be your father, kiddo,” Tatum says, placing him down. Valarian moves to the door and swings it open before bouncing on the balls of his little feet.
“You came back! You came back!!” he squeals eagerly.
“I pinky promised, didn't I?” Valen tells him, picking him up. He steps into the apartment and the place suddenly feels smaller with two bulky men taking up space.
“Coffee, boss?”
Valen nods to Tatum before Tatum turns to me.
“Coff—… What happened to your eyes?” he says, shoving past the table and knocking a chair over.
“Allergies,” I state as he grips my face with his huge sausage fingers. Zoe scoffs beside me, and he glances at her before raising an eyebrow at me when I swat his hands away. Valen comes over and grips my face instead, and I jerk away from his tingling touch.
“Allergies?” he questions doubtfully when Valarian suddenly speaks against me.
“Mom gets them all the time—and her nose bleeds. She gets a lot of nosebleeds,” Valarian says, and I press my lips in a line. Valen looks at me and his lips part before he nods and looks at Valarian.
“Well, mommy needs to see a doctor. I'll take her,” he tells Valarian. I start to object when Zoe adds her two cents' worth.
“Good idea; she sees doctor Mary at the rogue center,” Zoe says, folding her arms across her chest, and I notice Tatum's eyes dart to her cleavage.
I glare at her.
“My mate is not going to a rogue center,” Valen states before realizing what he said to Zoe, who's also a rogue.
“And why is that?” she says, dropping her hands to her waist and popping her hip. Ohhh, careful, Valen… you may just get into an argument you can't win with her.
“Good enough for rogues, it should be good enough for everybody. Or are you admitting that this city is discriminatory?” she says with a glare.
Valen says nothing, just turns away from her, choosing not to answer. Good thing, too, because Zoe is a firecracker before her morning coffee. Never cross paths with Zoe if she's in a bad mood and hasn't had her morning coffee yet. She may be small, but damn she's got a good right hook. You only have to ask the pool boy to know that—or Macey's brother.
“Okay, how about we get you ready for school, Valarian?” asks Valen while walking off into his room down the small hall. Tatum hands me a coffee, giving me a worried look before handing me an extra cup.
“For the boss.”
“Your boss. Not mine,” I tell him, stalking off down the hall to find my mate and son. Valarian is pulling his clothes out of the wardrobe while Valen looks around. When I stop beside him, he takes his mug from my hand and sips it.
“Doesn't look like a kid’s room,” he mumbles to me.
“Valarian doesn't like a mess,” I whisper back.
“You know I can hear you, right?” Valarian asks as he lays his clothes on the bed neatly.
Valen chuckles and turns around and Valarian eyes his father's cup before going over to his little desk, pulling out two coasters, and setting them on his bedside table.
Valen exhales just like I've seen his son do many times when he found something relaxing. Apparently, coasters are relaxing. Placing mine on one, I move to his wardrobe, retrieving his shoes from the bottom and placing them beside his perfectly made bed. It's one of the first things he does.
The moment he gets up, he makes his bed. I've even caught him making Casey's or remaking mine. That's one of the reasons I make sure to shut my door every morning. Occasionally, his compulsions become a little much. I'm more of a roll-out-of-bed-every-morning-and-make-the-bed-before-I-climb-back-in-it sort of person.
We help him get ready, and Valen watches everything like he's learning something new. I've applied gel on my son's hair and flattened his collar, but it makes me nervous when Valen suddenly starts unbuttoning the shirt I just buttoned because Valarian is whining about the collar not being completely wrinkle-free. How either of them can spot the tiny crease is beyond me.
“It isn't necessary; I ironed it the other day.”
“I can feel it, I can feel it, I know it's there,” Valarian cries as Valen undoes the last button.
“I'll do it,” Valen tells him, giving him a worried look as Valarian’s tone threatens a meltdown.
