Page 47 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar
“Oh, yeah?” I smile gently and sit down on the edge of his bed, t-shirt still in hand. “Would you like to go to the park after your next lesson?”
He nods enthusiastically, but then the light dims in his eyes.
He looks down at his thumbs, fiddling with them like they hold the answers to the universe.
“What is it, sweetie? You can talk to me.”
He’s quiet for a second. Then he opens up, and it’s like the whole world narrows to this tiny five-year old boy.
“Can you, can you tell me what it’s like to have a mom?”
The question lands like a soft grenade in the middle of my chest.
“What?” I whisper, blinking fast. “I mean, don’t you?—”
Shit. Way in over my head.
But lying isn’t an option.
Not with those honest golden eyes staring at me like I hold the secrets to the cosmos.
So I do what I always try to do with him—I tell the truth.
“Well, my mom left when I was a baby. I don’t really remember her,” I admit, brushing a curl off his forehead. “My grandparents raised us, but they were older, so my big brother Kyle kind of stepped up. He’s been my person for a long time.”
Alex’s eyes go wide. “Really? So you didn’t have a mom either?”
“Not really. But I had people who loved me. Families look different for everyone, kiddo. Some are made, not born.”
He processes that, his little fingers playing with the corner of his blanket.
“You’re like me,” he says at last. “It’s always been me and Dad. Sometimes we go see Aunt Lena and Uncle Keeton, and the rest of the Pride.”
“Pride?” I blink. “Like lions?”
He giggles. “Kind of. It’s what Dad says. Our family. Even if we’re not belated.”
“Related,” I correct gently, smiling at him even as my chest throbs with that achy, too-big feeling.
Alex lifts his head again, blinking at me with a shy, hopeful expression.
“I think I like it when you’re here. A lot.”
My throat tightens.
“Oh, Alex,” I murmur, reaching for his hand. “I like being here too. A lot.”
I smile, brushing a curl off his forehead.
He hesitates, then whispers, “It’d be cool if you liked my dad. Like liked liked him. He's not good at talking, even though he’s a lawyer. But he's really nice. And he brushes his teeth. And he’s strong. Plus, he cooks the best waffles.”
I blink.
Then laugh.
“Oh, does he now?”
Alex nods seriously. “But he’s got no friends his age. I think he’s lonely. Maybe you can be his friend? Or—what did you say your brother was? His person! Maybe you can be his person.”
