Page 129 of Unravel Me

She watches me for a moment, then nods. “I trust you, Adam.”

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

“Fuck yeah,” Connor repeats quietly, and my smile falls.

“Oh shit. No. Oh fuck. Shit.” I look to Rosie. “Rosie.”

Connor smiles slowly, a devilish sight, little brows quirking. “Oh shit.Ohshit!Shit!”

I grab Rosie’s backpack, sling the straps onto her shoulders, then shove the Starbucks I picked up for her into her hands. “I’ll call you if I need anything at all, and I promise I won’t swear anymore!” I push her—gently—toward the entrance of the building. “Have a great day, we love you!” I stop, popping a fist on my hip, brows furrowed as I replay those last three words in my head. “No, I didn’t, um…” My eyes come to Rosie’s. She’s standing there, clutching her breakfast, grinning at me. “Okaybye!” I dash to my side, throw myself in, and tear out of the parking lot without another look in her direction. “Shit. That was a close one, huh, bud?”

Connor grins at me in the reflection of the car seat mirror. “Shit.”

Ah fuck.

* * *

Trouble

How’s it going?

Me

Great!

Are you lying?

Only a little!

*laughing emoji* I appreciate you, Adam.

She made it two and a half hours before texting. I’m impressed; I just know her fingers have been itching all morning.

And really, we’re doing okay. Tough day, but we’re getting through it. He hasn’t thrown up in nearly two hours, he’s managed to keep down some crackers and water, and he’s only fallen to pieces, like, three times, all three times I’ve tried to put him down. Me? I’m whole. I’mtotallywhole.

“I need help.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Carter says.

I know what you’re thinking:You calledCarterfor advice?It’s the last thing I ever thought I’d do, too, but I have to admit, he’s got the dad thing down pat.

I’m waiting on my front porch when he rolls up, a weeping Connor in my arms, his small hand tangled in my hair.

“What is that?” I ask as he strolls toward us.

“What, this?” He touches the hat on his head. “It’s my DILF hat.”

“I can read, Carter. I know what your hat says. And why do you need a DILF hat when you’re already wearing your DILF shirt?”

“To really drive home the point.” He holds up the contraption in his hand. It looks like some sort of…backpack? “When Ireland is having a rough day, she just wants to be held. I strap her to my chest, and she’s happy as hell.” He sizes me up. “We’ll probably have to adjust this, because you’re smaller than me.”

I roll my eyes as he covertly makes the waist larger, because he knows as well as I do who the smaller one of us is.

“I’m gonna put you down for a minute, ’kay, buddy?” I lower Connor down to a chair on my porch, and he screams, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt.

“No! No down! Up!Up!” He scrambles to his feet, tugging at my pants, wailing. “Up, Dada,up!”

“Hey,” I soothe, crouching down, rubbing his back. “I know you’re upset. My friend Carter is going to help me put this on, and then I’m going to pick you right back up, okay?”

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