“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” I said and tightened my arm and listened to his breathing even out as he fell asleep.
It was only when I got back out to deal with the mess in the closet that I realized he’d called me Saul. NotDaddy.
Chapter thirteen
Calvin
I’d slept heavily, probably because of all the crying I’d done, but I’d woken just before the alarm, turned it off, and managed to slip out from under Saul without waking him. Saul? At some point last night, he’d become Saul. Why?
I headed for the mess in the closet because I intended to clear it up and opened the door. Then just stood and stared at it. All the chocolate had been cleaned up. My throat grew tight because while I had been having hysterics, Saul must have waited until I’d gone to sleep then cleared it up himself, and I wasn’t surehow I felt about that. I might as well get in the shower. I was a sticky mess and felt sure I had chocolate dried on my feet.
I closed and locked the bathroom door, knowing he would just walk in if the shower woke him up. I carefully got shaved first, the slight noise of my electric razor barely audible.
I knew I hadn’t answered my own question, and as I got in the shower, I also knew I was trying to avoid it, but it was either stress over Saul or the humiliation from last night. It could have been much worse though, and guiltily I remembered the moment Saul had taken a step forward to distract the gunman. I knew he’d done that for me, so why wasn’t I still in bed with his warm body pressed up to mine,or doing even better things?
Because I was a coward.
I couldn’t deal with last night yet because I’d originally promised to swap rooms with Chris, so Ricky and I could get ready together, and Chris and his best man, Steven, could do the same. I assumed Chris would go into Steven’s room now, and as soon as I was clean, I’d go to Ricky’s. He’d arranged breakfast to be in our room and we were going to hang out and drink mimosas, hopefully. Although I knew they’d be virgin mimosas, as Ricky had zero tolerance for alcohol because it was a huge trigger for his asthma. I didn’t mind, though. I needed to stay awake through the wedding, then I’d get drunk off my ass later. Then and only then would I let myself deal with yesterday.
I jumped as the door burst open and a rumpled Saul flew into the room. “Calvin?” He came toward me just as I stepped out and grabbed a towel, looking me up and down as if he expected a limb missing or something. I frowned at his entrance and hoped the door wasn’t damaged. “Are you all right, baby?” He reached out as if he was going to touch me, but I jerked away.
“Don’t.” I forced the word out between my lips, shame heating my skin.
He stopped still, nodded, and turned on his heel to walk out, and my belly did a swoop as my heart landed somewhere near my feet. I wasn’t being fair. I wasn’t frightened of him, but I had the exact same feeling as I had when I saw the suit, but I’d never, ever wear a diaper again. I couldn’t. I just had to hold myself together for today, then I could go home and think. I dried myself, then slipped on a robe and walked into the bedroom. Saul wasn’t there, but I could hear him talking on the phone to someone and just caught the words, “Sure, okay,” before he hung up and then came in.
“Chris says Ricky is expecting you anytime,” he said tonelessly, and headed into the bathroom and closed the door.
I gathered all my stuff, only stopping to grab Tiny and put some My Little Pony shorts on under my robe, and then I let myself out of the door. By the time I’d walked the fifteen feet to Ricky’s room, my lip was wobbling a little, so I stood outside and took a few deep breaths before I knocked. Chris opened the door looking hesitant, but Ricky squealed, and I couldn’t help the relief that swept through me. At least he was okay.
“How’s Saul?” Chris said. “I just spoke to him, and he sounded—”
But I didn’t hear the rest of the sentence because Ricky had tackled me, and it was only Chris grabbing my suit bag that kept it from hitting the floor. When I surfaced from Ricky, Chris had left.
Ricky looked at me so intently I flushed, but he merely nodded, walking to the kitchenette and pouring one mimosa for me, and out of a different bottle he poured a second one for himself. Then he added ice to mine and ushered me to the couch. “What’s in mine?” I asked, taking a sip.
“Alcohol,” he said dryly, “but it’s only light.”
I sighed. “Ricky, I—”
He clasped my free hand. “I know you’d happily drink mine and wouldn’t say a word, but you look like you need it.” Ricky took a sip of his own, then put it on the table. “Now, spill.” His eyebrows waggled. “Tell me all your secrets.”
“You know them all,” I muttered.
“I didn’t know you couldn’t swim,” Ricky said softly.
I shrugged. “It never came up.”
“It’s my fault Daddy left Saul to deal with everything,” Ricky said miserably, letting the swimming thing go.
“No, it isn’t,” I argued. “He did exactly the right thing.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Ricky asked. “Last night was shit, but Saul would have taken a bullet for you.”
I was silent for a moment. “But that’s his job.” It sounded weak even to my own ears.
“And Steven was a complete waste of space, plus he put you in their crosshairs. I wouldn’t blame Saul for taking him out.”
I eyed him. “What has Chris been letting you watch on TV?”