Page 84 of My Favorite Hero

“That’s a given. But I need a little rest.”

I lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest, laughing.

“Poor old man needs a break.”

I huffed. “I was thinking of your poor pussy and the pounding it’s taken today. I thought I’d give it a chance to recover.”

“How considerate, Thorne.”

“You always call me Thorne unless I’m inside you. Then it’s Jesse. Why?”

“I call you Jesse sometimes.”

“Rarely.”

She shrugged. “You feel like two different people, I guess. Grumpy Thorne and sexy Jesse. Sometimes you call me Pixie and sometimes Casey.”

She was right. Pixie came easier when we were alone. It felt intimate.

I stared out at the gathering night.

“What made you think of the tree and Lou today?” I asked without anger.

She sighed. “I don’t know. The memory just hit me.”

I was quiet for a moment, then gave in to my curiosity.

“How did you lose touch?”

She sat up, drawing her legs to her chest, not speaking for a moment.

“You remember when I told you my dad thought calling me Katharine Casey was funny?”

“Yes.”

“He was drunk at the time. He was drunk a lot.”

“Ah.” I covered her hand with mine, squeezing it.

“He was always losing jobs, and we moved a lot. My mom got tired of it and left him. Lou told her to come here. We could live with her. I was six.”

I waited for her to keep going. She played with my fingers, then spoke. “We were here for over a year. I loved it here. Lou and I were best pals. We did crafts, she helped me with schoolwork, let me cook with her. She played with me like another kid—climbing trees, playing hopscotch. I loved her.” She laughed quietly. “More than my mom. She was friend, teacher, mom, favorite aunt—everything rolled into one.”

“I could see that.”

“My parents had me late. They were the same age, and Mom had me when she was forty-two—I was a surprise. Sometimes it felt as if I wasn’t a welcome one.”

I rubbed her leg in silent sympathy.

“Lou was ten years older than my mom. She always said my mom was the sister she never had. And I was like her niece. Lou grew up next door to my mom, and they had known each other my mom’s entire life. Despite the age difference, they were friends.”

“Lou was like that. She loved people. She was friends with sixteen-year-olds and people her own age.”

Casey nodded sadly.

“Anyway, my dad showed up about a year and a half later. He’d been through rehab and swore he’d changed. He had a new job and a place for us to live. My mom said yes.” She shut her eyes. “I begged her to let me stay with Lou. Lou asked her too, but Mom said we were a family and had to stay together, so she took me and we went back to Toronto.”

“And?” I prompted.