Page 78 of Hold Him Like Gravity

She didn’t talk much about her brother. And when she did, she looked visibly upset, so I decided not to push.

She’d told me once that she had no one.

It seemed that was true.

That part, I couldn’t relate to.

I had my found family and a few blood relatives like Bass who hadn’t turned out to be like our parents. If I needed help, I had a dozen or more places to go to find it.

I couldn’t imagine being and feeling completely alone. To have no one to lean on.

And, suddenly, I found I wanted to be that person for her. To share my people with her. I was pretty sure it was too early to say shit like that. Though, who the fuck knew? I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

“I appreciate it, man,” I said as I slid open one of my desk drawers, producing my laptop and passing it to Bass. I gave him my passcodes to everything, then trusted him to figure this shit out for me.

While I spent more time with Kick.

Though, when I showed up at her place, she didn’t answer the door. For someone who claimed she was a homebody, she was out a lot late at night.

The third time it happened, I felt jealousy rear its ugly head, worried she was off with some other guy. But when she came in, cheeks flushed red from the cold, her eyes worried, I figured that it was impossible she’d been with a guy. If how she was after time with me was anything to go by, that is.

“You’re far away,” I said when we were in bed together later, having felt her drifting away from me minute by minute.

“Hm? No. I was just thinking about, you know, the holidays,” she said, but the lie wasn’t exactly convincing.

“What about them?”

“What do you do?” she asked, sliding her leg across my hips.

“Depends on the year. Back before the guys started settling down, we usually just hung out together. Had some drinks, some food. Not traditional holiday shit. Don’t think any of us ever even put up a tree,” I added. “Now, though, there’s usually someone doing something.

“Last year, I went to Cinna and Dav’s place for Thanksgiving. Neither of ‘em cook, but they had a full traditional Thanksgiving meal delivered.”

“They’re the two with the adopted kids, right?”

“Yeah. Teenagers.” One had been the kid in Cinna’s old apartment building who needed out of his shitty home life. The other was homeless and living on the street.

None of us ever imagined Cinna having kids. But I guess there was something different about raising teens than babies, and she seemed to speak their language. They were all an unexpected family that just… clicked.

“What about Christmas?” she asked, fingers tracing over my chest, writing things, but I couldn’t quite make out what.

“Spent the morning alone. Everyone had shit to do with their loved ones. But late that night, Renzo and Lore had a little holiday party. Most of us went there. Had some good times. Dunno if that’s gonna continue, though, once they start having kids.”

“Do you want them?”

“Do I want what?” I asked, my fingers sliding up her back to sift through her hair.

“Kids,” she clarified.

“I dunno how much thought I’ve given it, if I’m being honest. Haven’t really even been around a lot of kids. But I dunno. I could maybe see it. You?”

“I didn’t want them in, like, my past circumstances,” she said, dangerously close to actually telling me what her old life was like, what she was clearly running from by coming to Brooklyn after a lifetime in the Bronx. “I mean, it’s not like my life is stable now either,” she added, voice going a little thick.

Was she going to cry?

But before I could suss that shit out, she was straightening. “I need ice cream!” she declared, putting a little too much cheer in her voice, making the effect fall flat. But before I could say anything, she was rushing out of the room to get the ice cream.

Then the moment was gone.

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