Page 28 of Beautifully Broken
Me: Yes, okay, but I won’t promise to be nice.
Conrad Hoyer: I wouldn’t have it any other way, Bubbles. *winky face*. Saturday, I’ll pick you up at 7.
Chapter 7
Enid
I’m sitting on the couch, eyes slowly drooping. I think I might be able to catch a quick nap since Mace is finally able to sleep a bit, when suddenly there are three solid knocks on the door. I am not expecting company and don’t have plans until Saturday.Oh fuck. Today is Saturday, which means those knocks are probably my date that I forgot about because I’ve been busy with Mace. I look down at myself, knowing I probably look as ragged as I feel, before heading to my front door.
Opening it up, sure enough, Hoyer is standing there, pressed navy pants, a white button-up, and red roses in hand. He looks me up and down, confusion etched into his drool-worthy features. I’m in three-day-old sweats, a mask, latex gloves, one sock, and a bun that’s hanging on for dear life.
“You don’t look ready for a date, are you okay?” He steps forward tentatively, almost reaching out to touch my cheek, but stopping himself.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize today was Saturday. I forget sometimes that being a parent means that when your kid starts vomiting, it’s your responsibility to clean it up. Mace’s class had an outbreak of flu and he’s been sick for two days. I don’t do well with vomit, hence the mask and gloves. And now I feel horrible because I forgot about our date.”
“Bubbles, it’s okay. We can go on a date another time. What do you need? How can I help?” He steps forward and I move to the side, letting him into our home, which I know needs to be tidied, I just haven’t had the energy.
“He asked for soup, but then he fell asleep.” I shrug.
“Okay, I can make soup when he wakes up. But Bubbles…” Two gentle fingers tilt my chin upwards, “I didn’t ask what he needs, I asked whatyouneed.”
“I need a shower and could cry from how exhausted I am, but he only has me.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, the floodgates open. “He’s my baby brother, and I hate that he is feeling this way.”
“Let me go and grab my workout clothes,” he says, and I scrunch my nose because the last thing we need is more stink in here. “They are clean, Bubbles. I just keep an extra set in the car, I’m going to change, and then I’m going to take care of you until he needs help.” He places a gentle kiss on the top of my head before turning on his heel and exiting the house again, returning with a duffle bag.
“Show me your bathroom?” he asks, and I lead him down the hallway, which suddenly feels very small with his presence in it.
“You can change in here, I’ll just be in my room.” I gesture to the door to the left, “The right is Mace’s.”
While he is in the restroom, I flop onto my bed, letting my eyes close for a moment. More weight presses down beside me in the bed. I creak my eyes open to see Conrad looking down at me, empathy reflecting in his eyes.
“I drew you a bath.” He smiles.
“I can’t take a bath, I have to take care of him.” I sit up, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You can. He will probably be sleeping for a bit.” He’s suddenly sitting thigh to thigh with me, eyes narrowed on mine.
“But who will take care of Mace?” He cannot know that Conrad is here, so I have to be the one to go in if he needs anything.
“Who will take care of you?” His face is now just mere inches from mine, his green eyes glittering with mischief.
“I will, I always have.” I shrug, letting my arms flop to the side and attempting to look away.
“Let me.” He says, letting his hand come up to the side of my face, holding me in place.
“Let you what, Hoyer?” My chest is heaving with his proximity.
“Take care of you, Bubbles. Let me help with Mace. Then let me hold you while you sleep or cry or both tonight.” I don’t get the opportunity to respond because his lips are on mine, it’s gentle and caring like his words. He doesn’t press for more, nor does he let his hands wander. I’m grateful for that.
“Go.” He punctuates it with one more kiss.
Chapter 8
Conrad
Once Enid returns from her bath, she seems a little more refreshed, although she still dons deep purple eye bags. Rather than putting her clothes on, she opted for one of my spare Manta shirts. It swallows her whole.
“How was your bath?” I ask, opening my arms for her as she slides into my arms. Her head gently falls onto my shoulder, and she lets out a deep breath.
