Page 76 of Fitch

True.

We’d often hit Oxford Street bars looking for the same kind of boy to take into a backroom somewhere.

“Benji has different needs,” he added with a sly smile. “Like Fitch does, I’m assuming.”

I couldn’t help but return the smile. “Oh yes. He most certainly does.”

Nolan laughed, and after that, our conversation turned to the court case, the police statements today, and projected likely outcomes. Then talk turned to work, and not long after, the glass sliding door opened and the boys came inside.

“It’s getting too hot out there,” Fitch said sleepily, walking over to me. He leaned against me, his head in the crook of my neck. He felt warm.

I put my hand to his forehead. “Do you feel unwell?”

He shook his head, then looked at up me, slow-blinking and smiley-pouting. “No, it’s just the sun, daddy. I am tired though, and you promised me another full day of fu?—”

I put my finger to his lips. “Uh.”

He smiled and snuggled in against me, and my god, it was so easy to wrap my arms around him and kiss the top of his head. Even in front of Nolan, Benji, and Ky.

Fitch clearly felt comfortable to be himself, and I wasn’t going to deny him that.

“Right, then,” I said. “I should get this little one home.”

Fitch perked up, his face tilted up to me, excited. “Little one. I’m gonna need that on a shirt.”

“You need one withbratwritten on it,” Benji said.

“That too,” Fitch agreed. Then his eyes lit up and aimed right at me. “Oooh, I have the best idea for matching shirts.”

Uh, what? “Matching shirts? With me?”

He nodded. “Yes!”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” I tried.

He pulled back, pouting with big sad eyes. “But daddy. Yours would saygood thingsand mine would havesmall packageson it.”

Good things . . . small packages.

Good things come in small packages.

Jesus H. Christ.

The others all laughed, which only seemed to make Fitch happier.

He was really amping up on the cheeky brat. I tried to tell him with my eyes that this wasn’t really the place for this conversation. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Fitch grinned as if he’d just won.

Benji laughed some more, and Nolan hid his smile behind his glass. “Good luck with that,” he said.

I grumbled. “Thanks.” I turned Fitch around and started him toward the door. “Ky, need a lift?”

He gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

“Fitch, I’ll call you,” Benji said.

“Text first,” he replied. “I plan to be indisposed until Dominic leaves for work tomorrow morning.”

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