Page 66 of Unlocked Dive
My relief bubbles up like laughter as Echo steps shamelessly into the waiting circle of my arms, pressing his forehead to mine. I don’t tell him he’s got this, or that he’s ready, or that I believe in him. I’ve told him all of those things a thousand times over the last two weeks. I don’t ask if he’s okay, because I know the answer better than he does.
“Be Echo,” I say instead, soft and fierce, with my hands locked at the back of his neck.
“Your Echo?” His heart beats staccato wings against my chest.
“YourEcho.” I press a kiss to the offer of his mouth and whisper against all the vulnerability there: “You’ll always be mine.”In this moment, it doesn’t feel like a lie, and I’m rewarded with that lightning flash in his eyes and the slow smile that stops my heart.
“See you after,” he whispers back. “I’m gonna change your life tonight.”
You already have.
It’s hard to look someone in the eye when their son just promised to wreck your ass with his cock, but I’m a fucking adult, so I manage. To my surprised relief, the look on the man’s face is thoughtful rather than suspicious.
“Graham Wash,” he says, holding out his hand. “You can call me Graham.”
“Byrd.” I shake, resisting the absurd impulse to thank him, and I don’t fight it when he exerts a little extra pressure.
“Just don’t call him ‘Mr. Baardwijk,’” Echo murmurs behind me, and I stifle a shocked snort. Guess my boy’s feeling better. Graham’s eyes flit between us, but other than a slight tightening of his lips, he wisely doesn’t react.Jesus. Is he trying not to smile? I drop my hand and clear my throat, fighting a blush.
I’m saved further embarrassment by the arrival of Reggie’s surrogate coach. I make the introductions, since Claire and I spoke earlier while Echo was getting changed, and then she shoos Graham and me toward the door.
“We’ll be right outside,” I promise, while Echo gives his father one last hug, and I wonder if I’m about to have the most awkward conversation of my life.
28
Byrd
Idon’t climb the walls.
If I was alone, I might distract myself with one of the ropes in the main gym, but instead, I sit with Graham Wash on a backless metal bench outside the audition studio and breathe into the stilted silence. A teenage girl in bright shorts jogs by on her way to the bathroom, muted curiosity in her adolescent gaze. My lips twitch imagining the picture we make: Me with my messy topknot and ripped jeans, him in his pinstripes and thousand-dollar haircut, staring at youth troupe posters and stick-figure safety notices like the world’s unlikeliest pair of miscreants outside the principal’s office.
Or nervous parents waiting on the fate of the prodigal child.
Not that Wash looks nervous. He leans against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his dark designer slacks and his long legs stretched into the hallway, ankles crossed, casually taking up space with his boardroom bravado. If he feels out of place in this land of sweat and bruises and acrobatic dreams, he doesn’t show it.
He catches me studying him, glancing at my white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench, and breaks the silence.
“You did the right thing, calling Regina.”
“I know.” As peace offerings go, we could both use some practice.
“I wasn’t sure you would.” He chuckles. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure he would let you. Jericho can be very stubborn. But I appreciate it.”
I force my fingers to relax and meet his gaze. “I didn’t do it for you.”
His laugh is rich and almost honest.
“I believe you.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine Regina was any happier with you than I was.”
I shrug. Her exact words were “Please tell me you did not risk my professional reputation—and your heart—on another Wash man-child. That isnotwhat I meant when I told you to find yourself a hot rebound fuck.”
“We’ve known each other a long time.”
“You inspire loyalty.” It almost sounds like a compliment, and he’s got that thoughtful look on his face again. “Echo has never kissed anyone in front of me before.” The implication is clear, despite his casual tone, and my already tortured heart stutters in my chest.
“He cares for you,” he continues, not even trying to mask his surprise, “and you care for him. Enough to put his future before…” His vague gesture takes in the length of my body.
My heart?
