Page 122 of If Only In Our Dreams

“Can’t he quit his job?” Jane asked. “I don’t want to share him.”

Rosie hesitated, but ultimately opened her mouth too. “I have almost a hundred monies. He can have it.”

They understood the concept of money. At least in relation to jobs. I’d had to explain it to them as they got older. And it was part of why they were so proud of my medical practice, and acted like little warlords every time they came to visit.

“What about your cat?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

“Robin is kinda like a cat,” Rosie replied, shrugging. “And I don’t have to clean up poop.”

“And he sings too,” Jane interjected. “And he’s funny.”

“And he makes you smile,” Rosie added on, likethatwas the highlight of it all.

I hugged them both then, because I wasn’t sure what else I could do when my heart was full, and my eyes were burning, and my world felt whole. When I released them both they went back to eating like nothing at all had happened.

And it was with new confidence and determination that I kissed their little faces and headed off to pick Robin up for our trip.

Now that the girls were on board there was nothing stopping me from making him permanently mine.

Well, except for…Robin himself.

“So, fair warning,” Robin hummed softly where his face was smashed against my bicep, “things might get a little…weird.”

That ended up being the understatement of the century. Unfortunately, for both of us—but for Robin especially—someone had let it leak that he’d be arriving in L.A. today. Which we only knew because when we stepped off the plane, fingers tangled, there was a group of paparazzi already waiting.

I wasn’t so much surprised as I was…sad.

For him,at least.

Because the second he saw them he shrank. Not his body, but his soul. I watched it wither and fade inside his eyes as he stood tall, shoulders back—like he was putting on armor all over again. He donned his sunglasses, his eyes hidden from view, and I ached for him.

Before that moment, I hadn’t truly realized just how at ease Robin was when we were alone. Because this felt like an entirely different person, this stiff, perfectly grinning mannequin beside me. Even worse than the day we’d gone to the mall.

He tried to drop my hand but I wouldn’t let him.

And as we shouldered our way through the crowd, dodging questions, cameras flashing—I understood for the first time why Robin was so worried about ‘poisoning’ Belleville.

I could understand feeling terrified after living a life like this for god knows how long. He’d explained to me, yes. He’dwarnedme. But nothing prepared me for the reality of Robin’s world.

His world was full of people asking inappropriate questions. Of people trying to touch him without permission—of eyes, and eyes, andeyes. Eyes everywhere. Comments thrown out like yesterday’s trash. Invasiveness treated like it was normal and okay, when it clearly was not.

Like he was a prop, not a person.

There was a cab waiting for us near the curb outside the LAX airport. Robin made a beeline for it, his sunglasses perched on his nose, his smile never wavering. He’d told me, shy and nervous before we’d landed, that he preferred to ride around in cabs because they brought less attention.

Truthfully, I was a little shell-shocked by what was happening. Which was why it took me a second to react when one of the paparazzi that had been following us reached out and latched on to Robin’s shoulder.

I stared at the hand for a beat, genuinely flabbergasted that someone would have the audacity to touch him without permission. Robin tried to shrug the man off, and it was that little motion that made me snap out of the crowd-induced fog I’d been in.

I grabbed the man’s wrist, tight. Twisting, I yanked him off of Robin, using my bulk to shield Robin from the rest of the hungry, hungry eyes as he slid into the cab.

The man released a pained hiss, but I didn’t release him. Not until Robin was safely inside the cab, our backpacks abandoned for me to deal with. It was a testament to the trust we’d built that he’d allowed me to handle this.

“You havenomanners,” I told the handsy man, shocked all over again by the vicious growl in my voice. I released him, but not before he stuttered out an apology. The apology should’ve been for Robin, but I wasn’t about to force him out of the relative safety of the cab to hear it.

Jerkily, I grabbed our bags and forced them into the trunk. All the while, I ignored the murmurs behind me. Ignored the fact that no doubt someone had caught me grabbing the man on camera. The worry of future assault charges burned in the back of my mind—but I pushed the thought aside.

When I slid into my seat in the back beside Robin, my heart was pounding. I shut the door, locked it, and turned to him, my heart in my throat.

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