Page 90 of The Drummer's Heart

“Well, Emily still has plenty of time, but hopefully they won’t wait too long, because Tristan is getting old as fuck.” Atticus cringed when he realized what he’d just said. “Sorry, Christian. You didn’t hear that word.”

“Fuck!” the little boy repeated.

“No, no, no. Don’t say that.” Atticus sighed. “I’ve been scolded more than once for teaching him bad words. It’s my area of weakness.”

I chuckled. “What is Ronan gonna do if you guys scale back to spend more time with your kids?”

“Same thing he always does—smoke weed and eat out of our refrigerators, at least until he meets someone and settles down.”

“What are the chances of that happening?”

Atticus shrugged. “Ronan’s very picky, so I’m not sure. He says hewantsto settle downsomeday, but I’m not sure I believe him.”

Atticus wiped Christian’s hands and mouth every so often so they never got too greasy. He was talking to me, yet his mind was still on his child. His life had really changed in the past couple of years. And in turn,hehad really changed, yet his feelings toward me hadn’t.

“So…” Atticus cleared his throat. “I have a confession.”

I suspected I knew what this was about. “You went to see Julian.”

Atticus nodded. “He told you?”

“He did.”

“I figured he might.”

“What possessed you to go see him when you’re only in town for a few days?”

“You inspired me to be brave. I’d never allowed him to explain himself, never opened myself to the truth. And while I don’t think I’ll ever feel good about the idea of you and him, I can better understand how it happened now.”

“He’s not a bad person. He was good to me.”

“I realize that. Even if I still want to kill him. I don’t think that itch will ever go away. But I probably won’t actuallydo it.”

“Well, that’s good at least—for him.”

He winked. “Wouldn’t want to set a bad example for my son.”

“More!” Christian cried as he pointed to request another slice.

“You got it, buddy.” Atticus reached for another piece of pizza, repeating the process of soaking up the grease with a napkin.

I smiled. “Is the pizza good, Christian?”

He nodded happily.

“Good.”

Atticus again kissed the top of his head. “Thank you for having us.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

His eyes lingered on mine, and I sensed a hunger in them. Good thing Christian was here as a buffer. I’d missed Atticus so much and wouldn’t mind a repeat of California one bit.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. “I missed you tremendously.”

“I missed you, too.”

After Christian finished eating, we brought him into the living room and put on a kid’s show Atticus was able to find with my basic cable. Christian chose a spot on the floor as his gaze locked on the television.

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