Then, his posture goes from carefree to tense as he eyes Abe.
“How are things at home?” he asks.
Abe looks up at him, pursing his lips. “Fine. Why?” He tilts his head to the side.
“Just wondering,” Corbin says, putting a smile on his face. “I’m not there to keep an eye on you now, and I want to make sure you’re good.”
“Yeah,” Abe says. His little legs kick back and forth beneath the table and send rocks flying past my legs. “Grandpa works a lot, and Grandma has a new friend.”
“A new friend?” Corbin’s eyes dart to mine.
“Yeah, she comes over sometimes,” Abe says with a shrug before taking a sip of water through his straw. “She asks me a lot of questions.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. She asked me if I’m happy or, like, if I eat at home. Just lots of stuff. She let me show her my cars. Then, she asked one time if I like Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Do you?”
I can tell Corbin is nervous, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck and the other tapping a cadence on the tabletop.
“Do I what?” Abe looks up, cocking his head to the side and wrinkling his nose.
“Do you like Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Oh …” He kicks his foot again, and this time, a rock pelts my shin, but I don’t interrupt. “Yeah, I guess. They don’t really pay me any attention.”
I watch Corbin’s shoulders slump, but if it’s in relief or not, I don’t know.
“Hey, Landry?”
“Yeah, buddy?” I sit forward with a smile.
“You want to see my cars?”
“I would love to see your cars,” I say with a smile, one that Abe mirrors on his face with his teeth that are too big for him right now. It’s adorable, and I can’t help but fall in love with him.
“Cool. When can she come over?” He turns to Corbin, who is still tapping his fingers.
“What?” he asks.
Abe scoots closer. “Landry says she wants to see my cars. Can she come over?”
“Oh. Not today, but I’ll bring her back soon,” he says, ruffling Abe’s hair again.
“Okay. Can I have some ice cream?”
“Sure, buddy.”
I watch Corbin make his way to the shack, ordering three chocolate-dipped ice cream cones for us, and I can’t help but be happy right now in this very moment.
“I was afraid of this,” Corbin says.
We are lying on my bed, my head on his chest, as he twirls a lock of my hair around his finger over and over.
“Afraid of what?” I softly run my hand over his chest, back and forth, a calming rhythm.
“A social worker getting involved. I’m terrified of him being put into the system.” His muscles tense, and I raise my head, setting my chin in one hand as I look at him. “What?” he asks as he meets my eyes.
“I haven’t even asked you when your birthday is,” I say, smiling a little.
“December 2. When is yours?”
“February 21,” I murmur, continuing to rub his chest, this time with just the tip of my finger. “So, you plan to file for custody when you turn eighteen?”
“Not exactly. I’ll still be in school, and he can’t live here. I’m going to wait until I graduate and get a stable income. But he deserves better than what he has right now.”
“You’re a good brother, Corbin.”
He’s silent for a moment, one hand tucked under his head as he stares up at the ceiling, a small furrow between his brows.
“I don’t know what to do. I’ve had Brock and Bodhi to help me, but now that I’ve met Andrea, everything has changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m technically an Almadale. I’ve never been on top before—with money, I mean. I’ve always been bottom of the barrel here. But now, she wants to help me, and I hardly know her.”
“Have you been talking to her?” I don’t bring Andrea up much since it’s a weird subject for Corbin right now.
“We’ve had a few conversations. She’s trying, but I don’t know. It’s strange.”
I nod, laying my head back on his chest. I can hear his heart beating, a drumbeat beneath my ear.
“I want to be able to do everything I can for Abe, and if I have to take people up on their offers of help, so be it. Abe is more important to me than debts owed.”
“I don’t think Andrea would view it as a debt.”
“Nothing is ever free, Landry.”
“People who love you do things because they want to, not because they expect something in return.”
“I think it’s a little too soon to be saying she loves me.”
“Maybe so, but I think you should give her a chance. We can figure this out.”
“Hey,” he says, pushing up a little, and I look up at him. “Come here.” He wraps his hand around the back of my head, bringing it closer to his face, and he lays a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’m glad I have you.”
I smile and return the kiss but on his lips. The softness always surprises me, the complete opposite feeling of his hard body beneath my hands. I want to taste them forever as he kisses me back with more passion. He brings his arm down, wrapping it along my body and turning slightly until I’m fully on top of him. I cradle his cheeks in my hands, and a warm feeling washes over me as I look at the heat in his eyes and the smile on his face, all for me.
Only me.
29
Landry
One, two. One, two. Breathe. Again. The water rushing over my body is a welcome distraction from classes and studying, a shady mother, and a charming boy. It’s somewhere I’m familiar and happy. The smell of chlorine is calming to me, and I keep up my chanting in my head with each stroke, each kick, each breath as I shoot from one end of the long pool to the other.
I’m usually alone in here during free swim time. I guess other students aren’t really into swimming laps, except for those on the swim team. I could have joined, but I arrived too late in the summer and missed sign-ups. They are very strict about their policy. So, I busy myself with swimming on my own time. Trixie has come a few times, but it’s not her thing.
I reach the wall and stop, looping both arms over the edge and resting my cheek on my forearm. I take a few deep breaths, still leisurely kicking my legs in the water when I hear a door open on the other end of the room. The clank it makes when closing echoes off the cement and walls surrounding the pool. I glance over my shoulder, seeing who came to disrupt my peace, and my eyes widen.
Corbin stands there, his eyes scanning the room before they land on me, and he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants. It pushes them down a little, and I can see a sliver of exposed stomach beneath the hem of his T-shirt.
“Hey,” he says softly, the word sounding larger in the silence of the room.
I turn, keeping one arm on the ledge to anchor myself while I face him. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer. I watch as he pulls his T-shirt over his head in that smooth way that guys do, one arm reaching for the hem. It’s like a dance, and then—bam—it’s off. I’m staring at the smooth planes of his shoulders, pecs, and abs. His stomach ripples as he bends, pushing the top of his sweats down, and he steps out of them, standing there in a pair of tight boxer briefs, looking like my wet dream come to life.