Page 58 of Tripped By Love
It seemed like he was always hungry these days. A growth spurt had to be coming. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like when he was a teenager, growing inches at a time. Turning into a man. I needed him to be surrounded by people who would show him what being a man should look like. My father and brother were good men. They would always be there for him, but he deserved his own father.
My throat closed on my emotions.
“Okay, Snickerdoodle. Let’s go.” I stood up and wobbled. Marco steadied me.
“Maco come?” Chevelle asked, lifting his arms toward Marco and making it even harder to breathe. Harder for my heart to beat.
Marco looked at me, all the things we hadn’t said yet still drifting between us. “Yes, I’m coming, too,” he said as he easily lifted my son into his arms. Chevelle pointed to Hippo, and Marco picked the stuffed animal up without question.
I saw my parents exchange a look out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t care. When I met their gaze, they’d hidden away whatever thoughts they’d had.
“I just wanted you to know, in case Clayton showed up here while you had Chevelle. He’s not allowed to see him, okay?”
“Of course,” my mother huffed.
“If he shows up and gives you a problem, call me,” Marco said.
They nodded.
We headed for the back door and the short journey that would lead me to my house. My mom’s voice halted me. I held back while Marco continued out the gate and toward my door.
“What’s going on with you two?” she asked.
“He was there when Clayton showed up.”
“You know that’s not what I mean,cailín deas.”
“I know. But I don’t have anything else to say about it right now,” I said, trying to keep both the hope and defensiveness out of my tone.
I didn’t wait for a response. It didn’t matter. This was one aspect of my life my mother would never be able to control.
???
Marco and I made dinner together again, taking turns entertaining Chevelle while we did it. After, Marco cleaned up the kitchen and went back to his apartment to change into workout gear while I put Chevelle down. He’d just gotten back when my son asked to say goodnight to him, and the sloppy kiss he placed on Marco’s cheek about undid me. It clearly impacted Marco almost as much, because he kept his eyes closed for way too long. Almost as if he was holding back tears.
I changed and met Marco in the gym we’d built together, just like we’d done hundreds of times before, but we both knew it felt different tonight. Something had shifted. As if by silent agreement, we didn’t talk about any of the things hovering over us. Instead, we pounded our bodies through a routine we knew like the back of our hands. One that had me dripping with sweat and Marco glistening. The time he spent with me working out was nothing compared to what he really put his muscles through in order to keep his body cut and chiseled. Normally, our workout came before or after at least another hour he did on his own.
After our last round, I sank onto the mat with my water bottle. I lay down and let the coolness of the vinyl sift through me. Marco sat beside me with his long legs flung out in front of him. He leaned back on his arms in a way that flexed the muscles. His palms were spread wide, and his pinkie was almost touching mine. If I moved ever so slightly, I could hook them together. Join us.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He looked down at me, eyes drifting from my face, over the length of me, and then back. His gaze settled on my lips for so long it made them part as if he’d sent a message to them by telepathy. Finally, his eyes met mine.
“I haven’t done anything,” he said quietly.
I shoved his arm gently. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know you helped me.”
His gaze bored into mine. The air turned thick in a way it hadn’t been while we’d been exercising. Maybe because the workout had been the old us, performing a song we’d played hundreds of times. This rhythm was new and unknown. Exciting and terrifying. I didn’t want to lose him by pushing for more, but I also didn’t want to go backward.
When he spoke, his voice was as thick as the tension that bounced around us. “I liked kissing you, but the truth is, it’s better for me to be alone. I shouldn’t have started something I couldn’t finish. It’s better if we remain…friends.”
I rolled onto my side so I could look at him easier, propping my head up with my hand. I could see that he believed what he said. Believed he should be alone, as if he was paying penance for things he’d never admit.
“You know what I think?” I finally breathed out.
His dark eyes flashed with emotions?warnings and pleas mixed together.
“I think you like to believe you’re a lone wolf. Maybe because of your parents’ deaths. Maybe because of whatever happened to you in the military. But the truth is, you are built for family. The loyalty in you…the way you care about everyone around you, even when they don’t belong to you…you’re aching to make it real. To have what you lost. But you won’t let yourself.”
