When I nodded, he paused in front of Henry's door, slowly turning the knob. He slid an arm around my waist from behind, holding me as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “He looks a bit like you.”
“You think?” I didn't see it. Then again, because we knew nothing of Henry's biological father, I constantly found myself trying to assign characteristics to the unknown man.
“I do.” He combed his fingers through my hair. “I bet if we asked my mom if she has any pictures of us when we were kids, your hair would be almost the same color his is now.” He kissed my earlobe. “I know you were always self-conscious about them, but his ears stick out the slightest bit, just like yours.” He gripped my chin, turning my head so he could kiss my nose. “And you both have this adorable way of scrunching your noses when you're concentrating.”
I allowed my head to fall to the side, resting against his. “One of these days, he’s going to wake up and tell me I’m creepy for watching him sleep.”
“Most likely, but that night’s further down the road than you’re assuming. Until then, it’s a good way for you to end your days.” He kissed the side of my head and backed me away from the open door. “He’s lucky to have a dad like you who loves him so much.”
“And we’re both lucky you haven’t gotten sick of playing sidekick to the single dad and his kid.”
Billy let out a low growl. “Is that seriously how you see me? Do you think I’m sticking around because I don’t know how to make a clean break?”
“No. That’s not…” It was too damned late, and I wasn’t in any sort of headspace to make sense. “I just… I guess I mean…”
“I’m sure there’s a full sentence in there somewhere.” Billy pushed open my bedroom door and ushered me in. He turned on the nightstand lamp as I stripped down to my underwear, jumping into the bed before my brain could register how odd this situation was. Billy pulled the sheets up to my armpits. “I’m sorry if I sounded pissy, Michael, but I’m starting to realize you may not fully understand that I’m here because I want to be. When it would have been easy for me to pull away from you, I didn’t because I couldn’t. Maybe deep down I always knew we were meant to be something more.”
“Fuck. You can’t say things like that.” I rolled onto my side, placing a hand on the back of his thigh. “Are you going to spend the night?”
“Yes, but I’m going to sleep in the spare room.” That shouldn’t have upset me the way it did. Sensing my distress, Billy kissed my forehead. “I don’t want us rushing into things. If I sleep next to you, one or both of us will be tempted to explore and that’s not what we need right now.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” I grumbled.
Billy chuckled as he tucked me in, then turned out the light. For the second night in a row, I fell asleep quickly and woke feeling rested.
7
BILLY
Memorial Day weekendmarked a turning point for us. Michael, Henry, and I had planned to go on a picnic to the nearby lake, a sort of unofficial start of summer.
When I arrived at Michael's place, I found him running around like a headless chicken. He was trying to make breakfast, pacify Henry, and pack for our day out all at once. His face was flushed, his eyes wide. He looked like he was about to crack under the pressure.
“Hey,” I said, dropping my bag on the floor and rushing over to him. “Breathe, Michael.”
“But I need to…” He flailed his arms around as if I was supposed to understand what had him so tied up in knots.
“Michael.” I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Breathe.”
I took a deep breath in and he mimicked my actions. He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. His eyes still held a trace of panic, but it was receding.
“Good,” I said, “Now, why don't you go and get ready? I'll take care of everything here.”
“But…”
“No buts,” I cut him off. “Go. Get ready. Henry and I will handle things down here.”
Michael looked like he wanted to argue, but the exhaustion in his eyes won out. He nodded, gave me a weak smile, and headed upstairs.
I watched him go before turning my attention to Henry. The little boy was looking at me curiously, as if he realized there was something different about how I was talking to his daddy today. I knelt down in front of him, meeting his gaze.
I turned my attention to Henry and knelt down to his level. “Hey, buddy, what say we become chefs for the day? Do you think Bear-Bear would like to help, too?” I asked, pointing at the teddy bear in his arms.
Henry’s face lit up at the suggestion, his earlier tantrum forgotten. His sniffles ceased, and his face brightened. “Yeah! Bear-Bear’s good at cooking!” he exclaimed.
I hoisted him up onto a kitchen stool, and together we got to work. I let him crack the eggs and—after fishing out a couple of eggshells—stir the batter. Henry, clutching his teddy bear, helped by sprinkling cheese into the pan with scrambled eggs. It was probably too much food for three people, but we had a big day ahead of us.
When Michael came back downstairs, he seemed taken aback at the sight of breakfast laid out and Henry giggling as he set the table. His eyebrows shot up, and he stood frozen for a moment in the doorway.
