And I think I might just want to.
13
GIO
If dinner was any indication, this night is going well. I can tell Stephanie feels bad letting me do the dishes while she helps Jackson with his homework.
She keeps glancing at me from where they sit at the kitchen table.
But I insisted, and I’m glad I did. I like getting a glimpse into the different aspects of her as a mom.
And doing the dishes will keep my hands busy so I don’t feel like I’m hovering.
I can tell Jackson’s a smart kid simply by how quickly he catches on to what Stephanie explains.
He’s quick at math—even if he’s less than confident in himself—but what I love most about it is his determination.
He actuallylikesto learn. And I can tell Stephanie has done a lot to instill that passion in him.
When they’re done, Stephanie sends Jackson up to get ready for bed—even if he tries to talk her into letting him stay up a little longer.
“No way. It’s a school night. You can hang out with Gio another time,” she insists, directing him up the stairs.
Shoulders slumping, Jackson complies, vanishing down the hallway beyond.
Stephanie turns to me, her expression apologetic. “Sorry. I should go up and get him settled. He might not like to admit it, but he sleeps better when I tuck him in.”
“No need to apologize. Take your time. I’ll be here,” I promise, and because I’m feeling bold, I reach out to brush a single knuckle along the curve of her cheek.
Stephanie’s lips part, her eyes dilating as the air between us electrifies, and my cock twitches to life.
I should have waited—should have kept my hands to myself. I just wasn’t expecting to have quite such an intense reaction from an innocuous touch.
But after eight years of longing for her, my body seems more than ready to get close once more.
Clearing my throat, I take a step back, putting space between us before I do something stupid—like kiss her while she’s trying to go take care of her son.
Stephanie flushes, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of rose, and she swallows visibly.
“I’ll be back,” she says, her voice breathless, and she whirls, the fabric of her dress swirling around her thighs in a way that brings back far too many memories.
While she’s gone, I finish cleaning up the kitchen and head to the living room, settling on the couch.
Taking the remote, I turn on the TV and skim through the movies on her streaming subscription.
I’m looking for something light, cute, a movie I know she’ll enjoy but won’t have to pay too much attention to.
The cursor stops on one, and my heart skips a beat as I glance toward the stairs.
The Princess Bride.
I know it’s her favorite, but if I put it on, I might risk crossing the unspoken line I sense between us but haven’t found.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m shocked by how well things have been going so far—not just because my connection with Stephanie feels as natural and profound as when we first met, but because she seems more open to the idea of letting me back into her life than I expected.
It’s entirely confusing—how she could never have told me she’s alive and yet be perfectly happy to have me here, how she can seem to understand everything about me and yet pretend not to recognize me.
I’m dying to get to the bottom of it, but I don’t entirely know how to start.
