“North?” Hunter asks, raising a brow. “I wanted to start clearing out the stuff from the garden shed. It’s still too cold to work on it, but we could at least get rid of the old junk.”
We have a big garden, with an even bigger shed outside, next to a hot tub on the porch and a swing on one of the big pine trees. The shed is falling apart, and Hunter has been talking about it for ages, wanting to turn it into something useful. He’s not quite sure what yet, but he sees it as his little project and tries to involve me so we can do something together with Lio, teaching him how to handle small tools or just spending some quality time.
And I’ve successfully avoided it for months.
“Work,” is all I mutter, seeing disappointment on his face.
He should know better by now.
Lio comes back to stand in front of Sloan, his face flushed as he has a fit of coughing. Hunter reaches out to stroke his back soothingly, trying to calm him down. Then, after catching his breath, Lio looks up at Sloan with watery eyes.
“You okay, buddy?” Sloan asks with concern.
I hate that she’s so good with him. Even a fucking stranger has a better instant connection with him than I do.
“Do you need your inhaler?” Hunter asks at the same time.
Lio sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve before replying, “I’m fine, but my car is broken.”
Sloan tilts her head, puzzled. “Your car?”
Lio nods vigorously. “You said you’re a mechanic.”
I roll my eyes.
“He’s got an electric car he likes to drive around,” I tell her dismissively. “She can’t help with that, Lio.”
Sloan shoots me a glare before standing. “Well, let’s take a look. I can certainly try.”
Lio’s face lights up, and he grabs Sloan’s hand, pulling her out of the kitchen. I watch their golden heads disappear from view.
The moment they turn to leave, there is a tightness in my chest that’s not just mere irritation. It’s a knot of complex emotions—envy, regret, and something dangerously close to longing.
Watching them is like watching a part of my life being rewritten in front of me. The way Lio’s hand fits into hers, it’s natural, unforced—a contrast to the clumsy attempts at affection I’ve tried to offer. It should be me out there, tinkering with his toy car and sharing in his little triumphs. But instead, I’m here, rooted to my chair by a weighty blend of stubborn pride and a fear I’m not willing to dissect.
I take another sip of my coffee, but it has lost its warmth. I’m staring at the doorway they’ve just exited, and the reality hits me hard once more.
I’m on the periphery of Lio’s world, an observer, not a participant.
Because I just can’t.
I should be irritated with Sloan for stepping in, for effortlessly doing what I can’t, but instead, I find myself wrestling with gratitude. She’s filling in some of the gaps I’ve left wide open, and Lio’s world is better for it. It’s a thought that is as comforting as it is painful.
Hunter takes a sip of his coffee before turning to Nash, his voice low. “What the fuck happened between you two? Something feels off.”
Nash grins mischievously. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
That gets my head from where it followed Sloan and Lio right back at this table.
He fucked her?
Again?
My knuckles turn white around the coffee mug as I try hard not to break it. Huffing a bitter laugh at Nash’s response, I tell him, “You, a gentleman? That’s a stretch.”
I can’t sit at this table one second longer, or I might just strangle him.
Where I really want to be is a few doors down anyway.
