Page 71 of If Only In Our Dreams

“I always wanted to be a dad,” Robin blurted out, startling me. His eyes went wide. He wilted. “But…I mean…” The look he gave me was the saddest, sweetest thing I’d ever seen, like a puppy expecting to be kicked. “I wasn’t ready? When Bubba was born. Didn’t have any money. Didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I wanted to keep him but I just…I knew I’d just fuck him up. You know?”

Again, I stayed silent, though I made sure to maintain eye contact. To keep my gaze soft and sweet and indulgent, so he would know that I was listening.

I got the feeling he’d never shared this with anyone else before.

“I got no regrets. Miles is a better dad for Bubs than I ever could’ve been,” Robin explained, voice quiet. “He came outta the womb like that, I think. Some people do. You shoulda seen him the first time he saw Bubba. It was like he’d seen God or some shit.” Robin’s voice took on a fond tone. “He’s always been emotionally mature for the most part—aside from when he was beatin’ homophobic assholes’ faces in.”Well, that had escalated quickly. “Always gentle. Quiet. Patient. Good at listening. You know? The kinda dad a kid like Bubba needs.”

Robin took a shaky breath. The wine had loosened his tongue, but he didn’t seem to mind. He took another, longer sip, nearly emptying his glass, before he nuzzled against my shoulder. “I just wanted everyone to be happy. And honestly I was…scared.”

“You did well,” I told him because it was true, and I got the feeling he needed to hear it. He may not have been prepared tobe a parent at that age but things had turned out the way they needed to. Miles was happy. It was obvious. And Bubba was probably the most well-adjusted kid I’d ever met.

“Thanks.” Robin’s smile grew more sure, more confident as he blossomed under the praise. “If there’s one good thing I’ve done in my life, it was making Miles a dad.” Robin finished his wine glass and removed himself from my body to set it down. Luckily, he returned right back to the crook of my arm the second it was settled on the coffee table. Only this time, he pulled his feet right up too. They curled between my legs, tucking under my thigh as he pretzeled into my side.

“Miles said you had good parents,” Robin mumbled, muffled into my shirt. It was thin fabric, one of my favorite button-ups. I liked it because it was perfect to layer beneath sweaters when I went out. I could feel the hot puff of his breath on my pec, and my dick stirred as I slid my hand down his back in a slow, soothing manner.

“I did.” I stroked again, embarrassed to find how much it turned me on that my hand took up so much space on his body. I could imagine tucking my fingers up inside him. The way he’d twitch and writhe, tiny legs sprawled wide while he fought to take me. “I do.”

“We didn’t,” Robin’s voice was still muffled. His toes wriggled beneath my thigh, and I bit my lip so I wouldn’t groan. If he moved just a little up, he’d be wiggling right beneath my balls.

God, how long had it been since I’d been touched?

I forced aside thoughts of sex, and his charming little feet, trying to get my head back online.

“Miles said you never knew your father,” I hummed, because he had. Or maybe…Trent had said that? It was hard to remember exactly who I’d learned the information from.

“Hedidn’t,” Robin corrected. “His dad fucked off to play pro football or something. We had different dads.”

There was a lot packed into that little flippant statement. “But…you did?”

Robin froze. His wiggling ceased. Even the hot puff of his breath paused as he seemed to take a moment to process what he’d accidentally let slip.

When he relaxed again, I did too.

Up and down, back and forth, I stroked the long line of his back.

Robin took a slow, steady breath. “Fuck it.”

I wasn’t sure what he’d decided, but apparently it was important, because he wiggled his face so he could see me, his pointed chin digging into my pec. “My dad sucked.”

I blinked, surprised.

“When I was…twenty, I think? I dunno. Twenty-one maybe. I got it in my head that I was gonna get Miles out.” Robin’s voice wavered. “My dad lived in a city north of where we did. I reached out to him to see if he’d help me apartment shop.”

I had a feeling where this was going, but I didn’t interrupt.

“I saved up for…fuck, I dunno. A year? Getting the first month, last month, the deposit, and yada yada. Enough for furniture and stuff. I worked myself to the fucking bone man. Because I thought—” Robin’s voice was rough. “I thought I could surprise Miles? Figured we’d have a fresh start. It’d be easier to make music in a big city like that. He could go to college.” He sucked in a breath. “I was gonna drive him up there one weekend, play it all cool, and then bring him inside our new apartment and be all, ‘Surprise, motherfucker! Welcome home.’”

“I’m guessing that didn’t happen,” I murmured, my hand stilling on his back for just a moment before I began moving again.

“Nope.” Robin shrugged a shoulder. “I knew…my dad was shit. Mama always said he was. But there was this time…when I was in high school that I’dreallyneeded him, and he’d shown up when I called, and for hours…fuckinghours…we’d sat at this diner downtown where Mama wouldn’t see, and he helped me finish the project I was struggling with. I thought…fuck. I was such an idiot.” Robin sucked in another breath. “I thought it’d be like that? That maybe Mama had lied about him or some shit, I dunno. He’d been so nice to me that one time. And Mama always had her own agenda…so I just…I gave him the benefit of the doubt.” Robin’s accent was thicker then. Probably the thickest I’d heard it, the warm croon of the South sneaking into the words.

“What happened?”

“I showed up to check the place out,” Robin’s voice cracked right in half. “We were supposed to move in a few weeks. I’d sent my dad all the money I had and he’d kept telling me andtellingme that he’d get it all sorted, that it wouldn’t matter if I checked the place out myself. Kept sayin’ ‘don’t you trust me?’ and all that shit. Sent me pictures of our place. Pictures I later figured out he’d gotten from a fucking magazine.”

My heart hurt for him.

I couldn’t imagine what that had been like.

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