Fuck, he breaks my heart. Both kids do. I wish he realized he has someone in his brother, but both he and Sadie are too damn scared to hope for more.
Me: I want. I’ve been hoping you’d reach out. It’ll be fun.
Nash: Cool. There’s a court right up the road from our apartment. Do you want to meet at our place?
Shit. I hadn’t thought about that. I should check in with James. I switch over to message him.
Me: Hey. Nash wants to play basketball today. Is that okay? He also asked if we could meet at your apartment.
I watch my phone, foot tapping, hoping he’s quick with it. I don’t want to leave Nash hanging. Three dots pop up, then disappear, then show up again, before a message finally comes through.
Dreamer: That’s fine. I’m glad he reached out. Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me.
I let out a sigh of relief. I want to be there for Nash, but I don’t want to upset James. Since Sunday, I’ve done nothing but think about what Dakota said. I don’t want to hurt these kids—it would kill me to hurt them. I don’t know what the future holds for James and me—probably nothing. Not with his job and, hell, I don’t even know what I want, but I’ll be there for them. I won’t abandon them, not as long as they want me.
Me: You don’t have to thank me. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, but…I might let you show me your appreciation anyway.I add a wink emoji.
Dreamer: Of course you would.
Me: And you’d like it.
Dreamer: I would.
Dreamer: Just, be careful, please. No one from the university would recognize Nash if they saw the two of you together, so I know it seems silly to worry.
Me: No. It doesn’t. It’s your career, James. I get it. Everything will be okay.
Dreamer: I know. I trust you.
And those three words mean everything to me. I want to be that person for him, probably in more ways than he knows.
Me: I know you do, good boy. Talk soon.
I flip over to my messages with Nash, trying to hurry and not leave him waiting any longer.
Me: Hey. Sorry. I had to check on something. Send me your address. What time is good for you?
Nash: I’m ready anytime.
Me: I’ll be there in thirty.
I just got home from class when Nash messaged. I have a shit ton of homework—some for his older brother, who is a little heavy-handed with it if you ask me—but instead of doing it, I change into something more comfortable for playing ball, fill up my water bottle, then head to their apartment.
Excitement makes my stomach fluttery because as wild as it sounds, I want to see his place. It’s different from the other house, since he doesn’t actually live there. Though I think James wants to settle down with a family more than he realizes. Otherwise, why would he be doing nothing with the house?
But the apartment is different. It’s his day-to-day home, his space, the room where he sits at night and talks to me…comes for me. Where he cooks dinner and swims laps and a million other things, and the only reason I’m going there is for his little brother. I’d be smart not to forget that part.
I’m surprised when I pull up to the upscale building and see Nash waiting outside. I try to ignore the stab ofdisappointment at not being able to go upstairs, and roll down the window. “Are we driving or walking?”
“We can walk. I’ll show you where to park.”
He jumps in and directs me to the guest parking, where I find a space, then grab my shit and we get out.
“Is your brother home?” I hadn’t thought to ask him where he was when we texted.
“Yeah, he just got home. It’s why I came downstairs.”
“Are the two of you fighting?” I pass him the ball, and he dribbles it down the sidewalk as we go.
