“What can I get you now? Soup?”
“Mm. No. Kash—” Gage’s words were cut off when the front door opened and Kash appeared in the archway, leaning on his cane with one hand, several grocery bags hanging from his other wrist.
Adele shot up. “Tell me you didn’t walk to the store.”
Kash rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I walked. I wanted to make sure Gage had to wait six hours for soup.” His sarcasm was as biting as ever, and it made Adele laugh as he walked over and relieved him of his burden. “I took an Uber.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I can make my—your,” he corrected, and Adele’s heart triple-beat in his chest at the one slip he wanted Kash to make, “son some soup when he’s sick. If I’m going to be pseudo house-husband, this is the least I can do.”
Adele swallowed thickly. “I’ll go put this in the kitchen. Are you making your grandma’s lentil soup?”
“Yes,” Kash said.
Adele’s stomach groaned as if on cue, and Kash burst into laughter as he pushed past him into the living room. “I’ll be right there. I’m gonna go check on him first.”
Adele took a few steps to the right, then hovered at the edge of the wall at the perfect angle to see without being seen. He watched as Kash carefully dropped his ass to thecoffee table, then reached out with his wrist and pressed it to Gage’s forehead.
“Still warm.”
“Yeah.” Gage sniffled and rolled toward him. “I feel gross.”
“Soup will make you feel better. Do you want me to get you a blanket?”
“Can you tell Dad I want my nest?”
Kash burst into a soft peal of laughter. “Yeah. Want us to hang out with you?”
Gage was quiet for a beat. “Do you think it’s super weird if I want cuddles?”
Adele wanted to answer that question for him, but they weren’t supposed to know he was eavesdropping, so he bit his tongue and waited to see what Kash was going to say.
“Do people give you shit because you’re close to your dad like that?”
“Lucas doesn’t, but some of the other kids do. I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years who think it’s not normal for me to be this close to him. I…I don’t know. Maybe I’m a freak.”
“I think you and Lucas are probably two of the luckiest kids on the planet. Society isn’t really nice to dads. A lot of them are trained to think they’re not allowed to show how much they love their kids.”
“Was that yours?”
Adele winced, and he saw the way Kash flinched at the question. “He wasn’t ever a nice guy. There’s a reason you won’t ever meet him.”
“He hurt you.” The words weren’t a question.
Kash’s head bowed, and Adele wished he could see his face. “It doesn’t matter now. Your dad was there for me when I needed him, and it helped more than I can say. Ithink he had some pretty good examples of how not to be when we were growing up.”
“So it’s not weird if I want some cuddles? I…I won’t have much of this after graduation, you know? Like, what if I’m in my apartment and I get this sick?”
“You’ll make yourself soup and make your nest, then call one of us, and we’ll talk to you until you feel better. This kind of love might change forms as you get older, but it’ll never stop.”
“Mmkay,” Gage said, then coughed before he yawned. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Adele turned and hurried into the kitchen, throwing the bags on the counter, and then he slipped into the hallway before Kash could even begin his journey to the stove. His heart was beating—tender and sore with a preemptive sort of grief at how quickly things were changing.
He knew it was for the best. He knew he was going to adore the adult person Gage was going to become. He knew that in spite of making some poor choices in teenage boyfriends, Gage was going to pick a good man and have a good life.