Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I lean against the jamb of the kitchen doorway. Eli’s words from a little while ago play on a loop inside of my head. I avoided responding to them earlier because I wasn’t sure what to say.
Move in with me, you and Ryan.
I want to say yes. A million times, yes, but it doesn’t feel practical at all. My life is in Texas, my job is in Texas. Not to say that I can’t get the same job here, but I will probably have to take some exams to get licensing for Ohio. All things that are doable, but is that really what would be best for us?
I watch them together, quietly sitting with one another. Ryan’s eyes slowly close, the aftereffects of his all-day park playday. I want to say yes, it is what would be best for us. But I know that it’s my wishful thinking.
Of course, I want to live in a fairy tale. And in fairyland, I would move us here, and we would live happily ever after.
I also know that this is not a fairy tale. Girls like me don’t get those.
Pushing off the wall, I move toward the living room and sink down in the corner of the sofa as I turn to face them slightly. Only then does Eli lift his eyes to look at me. That one look tells me everything.
It’s love.
I know it’s love because it’s the exact same look my father has when he holds Ryan.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m never letting him go.”
I laugh softly, mainly because I always feel the same way when I have him in my arms. Ryan is special, maybe because he’s my own flesh and blood, but I don’t care—he’s beyond special, and I never want to let him go.
“He had a long day,” I say.
Eli hums. “We really do need to talk about the future. I’m serious as fuck. I want you both here with me.”
Pressing my lips together, I shift my gaze to the side, trying to think of what to say, what to do. I don’t know what the right thing to do is. Taking Ryan away from Eli seems like the exact opposite of what I wanted to achieve by coming here.
But I have to think about myself, too. And I don’t know if being here is the right thing for me. I’m not sure how much interaction I can have with this man on a day-to-day basis before I completely throw myself at him.
I’m close as it is.
So. Damn. Close.
“My contract with the Cleveland Vortex was just renewed. I’m here for at least three more years. I want you both here for that.”
“And then what?” I ask. “And where will I live? I don’t know what it would take to get my licensing here, but I know that I don’t have enough money for an apartment and childcare.”
I watch as his eyes narrow and his lips press into a thin line. I suck in a breath, holding it for a moment as I wait for him to continue. When he does, I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know what to say or where to look, and my skin itches to run.
“You think I’m going to move you here and not take care of you? You think I’m broke or a deadbeat or some shit?”
His words come out on a hiss. He’s only quiet because he’s holding a sleeping Ryan. At least, that’s what I think. It’s not like we’ve talked much or even know a damn thing about one another—something I’ve been reminded of more often than not during the past couple of days.
“I don’t think you’re a deadbeat. But I would never ask you to take care of any of my personal stuff, Eli.”
He shakes his head once. “Never would I let the mother of my son suffer in any fucking way.”
At that, Ryan cries out, then pushes away from Eli’s chest. I watch as a panicked expression crosses Eli’s face. I don’t panic, though, because I know that Ryan does this. He’s done this since he was a newborn. I remember how scary it was.
“Just stand up and walk around with him. He’ll stop,” I call out.
Eli stands immediately and begins to walk around the room. Almost instantly, Ryan stops and settles down against his chest, lifting his hand to his face, and shoves his thumb in his mouth. He falls asleep again instantly.
ELI
Our tense conversation was broken only when Ryan started freaking out, and I dropped it. Maybe he could feel the tension. And now I’m driving them back to their hotel. What started out as a great fucking night is now not only uneasy but also uncomfortable.
When I pull up in front of the hotel, I don’t want to let them go. Reaching for her hand, I grip her fingers. “Come and stay with me the rest of the time you’re here.”
