“There is so much that needs to be said right now, but I don’t think Dylan is going to give us another minute before he just says fuck it and eats the steaks. So for now, I’m tabling this, but I’m not going to shy away from kissing you nor will I sugarcoat it.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I mumble under my breath and go to grab the bowl of salad that I made and seasoned with the olive oil and balsamic I found in his pantry. A pantry that was overflowing with food.
“Give me enough time, and you are going to know what that means,” he says, and I have to wonder if he’s telling me or asking me. Either way, I walk outside and sit at the table. After placing salad on Dylan’s plate, he also opts to have a loaded baked potato.
“Now you dig in,” Justin tells him, cutting his steak for him. “But be careful because it’s hot.” I don’t want to think about how Andrew has never once fed our child, not even a bottle when he was younger. He used to use the excuse that Dylan wanted me instead. He never cut his food or even cooked for him.
“Mom, can we have baked potatoes tomorrow?” he asks, and I have to laugh.
“I have no idea,” I say, cutting a piece of steak and eating it. It melts in my mouth. “I have to work tomorrow, so we will see when we get home.”
He groans and takes another bite. “Do I have to come?”
I look at him. “Yes,” I say. “We go over this every single time.”
“But it’s so boring.” He groans between bites, his eyes never leaving the plate as he does it.
“Why doesn’t he stay with me?” Justin says, and I look over at him. I fixed the table with most of the stuff he showed me, and although I didn’t want to touch the glass pitcher, I did anyway because it looked beautiful and I’ve never had one. “I’m home all day tomorrow, and I kind of have an assignment I need to do, and he can help me with it.”
“An assignment?” I ask, taking another piece of steak.
“Well, I’m going to be on the cover of the next NHL video game,” he says, chewing his own piece of steak.
“WHAT?” Dylan shrieks, throwing his fork down. “On the cover?” The look of pure joy covers his face.
Justin just nods. “And they just sent me over the game, and I have to check it out and play it.”
“So your assignment is to play a video game?” I ask, my foot moving back and forth as he glares at me.
“There is a lot more than just playing a video game, sweetheart,” he says, and I shake my head and take a piece of salad, hoping the conversation ends.
“Mom, there is so much more to playing the game.” Dylan copies Justin’s words. “That is so cool.”
“This steak is so tender,” I say, changing the subject and hoping that Dylan forgets.
“It’s the best,” he says, chewing on his last piece. “So can I stay with Justin?”
“Dylan, I don’t think …” I start to say and look for Justin to help me out, but he just leans back in his chair and puts his hands on the arms of the chair, making his shirt go tight across his chest.
“Why?” he asks, and I sit in the chair and look at him. “Why don’t you guys sleep here?”
“Um, no,” I say the same time that Dylan says, “Yes!”
“Hear me out,” he says, and I want to hurt him, but then I want to kiss him again.
“You guys sleep here tonight,” he says, and I shake my head. “Then tomorrow, I can stay with Dylan, and you can go to work, and then we can have movie night.”
“That,” Dylan says. “Let’s do that, Mom. Please,” he begs, then he turns to Justin. “Can I have more steak?”
“Sure, buddy,” he says, taking a steak and cutting it on his plate.
“We can’t just stay here,” I tell them.
“Why not?” Dylan asks, eating a piece of steak.
“Yeah, why not?” I glare at Justin’s question.
“Well, for one, we don’t have any clothes.” I start with the obvious.
“I can lend you something to sleep in,” Justin says.
“Well, I need clothes for work tomorrow,” I say.
“I can lend you something, and you can swing by your place before work,” Justin says, and I want to tell him no.
“The bus ride alone is going to be …” I start saying, and he shuts it down.
“You aren’t taking the bus. You can take the SUV,” he says, and I want to hit the table and tell him to stop it.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say softly.
“Why?” he asks. “I have two extra bedrooms. You can each take a room.”
“Justin,” I say, and he looks at me, trying not to smile.
“Besides, I want Dylan to help me with my game,” he says softly, and I look at the man who has taken my son under his wing and has included him in every single direction we are going. It’s overwhelming, and I put my napkin down and get up.
“Excuse me,” I say, trying to walk away so he doesn’t see the tears in my eyes. I walk inside, and I’m looking for the bathroom when I accidentally walk into his room. I turn to walk back out and face-plant in his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his hands holding my arms. I look up, and it’s the wrong thing to do because he makes me want to take all the leaps. He makes me want to do all these things I said I would never do. He makes me want all the tomorrows. He makes me want it all, and I know that even if I guard myself, I’ll fall for him, and I’m not sure I can survive him leaving.
“No,” I say, moving out of his touch. “I’m not okay.”
“Why?” he asks, and I lift my arms up as if he should know.
“Us staying here,” I say. “Dylan falling in love with you.”
He waits for me to finish. “It’s just … it’s not just me I have to worry about.”
“I will never ever hurt him,” he says softly. “Never. You never have to worry about that.” And I know by his tone that he would never hurt him.
“Let me in.”
“Letting you in isn’t what I’m worried about anymore,” I say, and it’s the truth. “It’s about surviving after.”
“You’ll never know unless you take that chance,” he says, and I have to avert my eyes. “I’ve never had anyone in my house before.” I look at him with shock all over my face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated. But here”—he points at the floor—“this is mine, and I wasn’t about to bring anyone in here that I didn’t think deserved to be here.”
“You’ve known me a week,” I say.
“And I would have brought you here the day I met you,” he says and then comes to me. “I want to date you, and that means you coming over.”
“What else does dating entail?” I place my hands on his chest, the feel of his heart beating under my palms.
“It entails doing stuff for each other,” he says.
“You don’t need me for anything,” I say.
“That’s not true,” he says. “If I asked you to do something for me, would you say no?” I roll my eyes, and he laughs. Arm around me, he pulls me in for a hug, and my hands go around his waist. “How about you stay here tonight? Tomorrow, you can get up, go to your place to change, and then pack a bag.”