Page 35 of If Only In Our Dreams

“Ben—”

“I need to call Trent and Paxton and get them on board. But I don’t have time before Robin comes downstairs. I estimate I have an hour and a half to get him fed and dressed properly before I can meet you at the park. I need help organizing. Please.”

Mama laughed, the merry sound warming me from head to toe. “Alright,” she hummed, obviously amused. “One question.”

“What?”

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I was terrified Robin would walk out and overhear what was going on.

“Why did you lie to him?” she asked. I didn’t have time to lie again, so I simply told her the truth. Because she’d always been my closest confidant, and if there was anyone in the world I had no walls up with—okay, one wall, singular—it was my mama.

“I couldn’t just ask him to goalonewith me. Baby steps. I need to take baby steps. I don’t want him to scare him off. I need to acclimate him to my presence.” Never mind the fact that we’d been alone for most of the day already.

What if he got sick of me?

Or I tried to psychoanalyze him again?

No, no. I needed a barrier to protect him from me at the same time I got to make him smile. He’d said sledding was on his “Perfect Christmas To-Do List”. I wanted to help with that.

“Riiiight.” I could practically see her grin through the phone.

“And besides—he’s here to spend time with his family. He’ll be more comfortable, and more excited if he can make memories with them too. I don’t want to take that from him.”

I just…want to be there too.

To see him light up.

To share that first with him.

“That’s very…thoughtfulof you.” Mama’s tone made it clear she was surprised I was using my “thoughtfulness” on Robin—a stranger.

“Please?” I begged again, glancing toward the front door and the yellow stained glass that lit up from the inside, worried I’d see Robin’s figure approaching. “Bring the girls. An hour and a half. Knoll Park.”

“If you’ll read the books I bought you.”

Oh Jesus Christ.

This again?

“Fine.” I gave in because what choice did I have? Robin’s Christmas was on the line. If she was surprised she didn’t say, simply promised me she’d call around and get as many of my brothers involved as she could, before hanging up.

I loped back up the steps and shoved the door open—relieved when I made it just in time to watch Robin thud his way back down the stairs. I suppose with boots like those he probably didn’t need long socks, but he looked incredibly proud of himself as he paused at the top of the stairs and pointed at his feet.

“Two pairs of socks, motherfucker,” Robin declared, then waggled his brows and hopped down another step. He kicked a leg out, the buckles on his platform boots glinting. “Knee length,” he added, like he was saying it posh like “cashmere.”Thump, thump,my heart beat as Robin stomped the rest of the way down the stairs looking proud of himself.

“I even found a sweater,” he hummed, plucking at the thinnest fucking sweater I’d ever seen. Thin enough the fabric clung to his nipples and the divots at his hips, his piercings even more obvious than normal.

Jesus fuck.

“Good job,” I praised. It was a joke—to match his joke—but he lit up anyway, his eyes crinkling with delight as he beamed up at me.

Praise kink.

He might have a praise kink.

My head spun.

Stop thinking about his kinks, Ben, and feed him. He looks hungry.

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