16. Henry

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

henry

After work, Felix comes up to my place and watches Hazel, just like every other workday. While I hurry through my shower, I have to admit my body is on high alert, my cock begging for my attention and pissed because it’s been ignored for so damn long.

Between restless nights with a newborn and bouncing around from shelter to shelter, and then trying my best to do a good job here so I don’t lose this bit of stability, my own needs have gone to the wayside.

And I’m desperate to come.

But I don’t because Felix is watching Hazel right now, feeding her and playing with her to give me a little time to get cleaned up. Reluctantly, I force myself to turn off the water, dry off, and get dressed.

When I walk out of the bathroom, my heart does that insane fluttering thing at the sight of him feeding my daughter what I think is carrots and making funny faces at her. Hazel just gurgles, laughing and pushing the carrots out of her mouth and onto her bib, making Felix laugh too.

Holy shit, what a sight.

“She’s not a fan?”

He only grins up at me, another spoonful ready. “We’re talking about the benefits of carrots. She’s not totally convinced, but we’re getting there.”

“She liked the plums yesterday.”

“She’s a sugar fiend,” he jokes, and I laugh. I grab a sippy cup of apple juice mixed with water and hand it to her to wash down the carrot mush.

She takes it happily, splashing some of it on the couch, and I groan. “I need a plastic cover for this couch. It’s not even ours.”

Felix is unbothered, still making faces at Hazel and trying to get her to eat. “Ben and Colby don’t care about the couch. Did you hear they might be getting a baby?”

That has my attention. “Really? When?”

He gives up on the carrots and sticks the spoon in the jar, placing it on the table. “Soon, they think. There’s a two-year-old boy who really needs a home.”

“What happened to his parents?” I have to ask, curiosity getting the better of me. I don’t think most people want to think about the reality of a lot of people having babies but not wanting to be parents. Of abandoned kids. But growing up in the system, that’s pretty much all I knew.

His eyes go to Hazel and then slowly back to me. “They died. A car accident. No living relatives.”

“Jesus,” I breathe. So this little boy’s parents wanted him, and they were taken away anyway. That’s just fantastic.

“Ben and Colby will be amazing parents.”

Felix’s face lights up again and he smiles. “They definitely will. I can’t wait to watch them navigate life with a toddler.”

I grin, thinking about my boss and his husband chasing a kid around. They’ll be great though, no doubt. “That’s awesome.”

“It really is.”

“They’re great with Hazel,” I say because, while I’m still a little wary of anyone watching Hazel without me nearby, they’ve definitely been there for me. Playing with Hazel when they’re here during my shift. Even getting her bottle ready for me and occasionally feeding her.

They don’t usually work at the same time I do, but they make it a priority to be around. I’ve gotten to know Brooks and Roman a little more too. They’re both big goofballs when it comes to my kid, bringing her clothes they say they saw were on sale and other little things, here and there.

I wasn’t kidding about them adopting everyone they meet. It seems like one big happy family, and they just keep adding to it.

I’ve seen Andrew a couple of times lately too. While he doesn’t seem as enamored with Hazel, he does seem to care, mentioning the Spark of Hope meetings and telling me I can bring her with me.

I don’t know how many other ways to tell him I don’t have trauma. All I have is life. Maybe some rough hands, but nothing too crazy. My parents were terrible parents, and I wound up in the system, but I was fine.

Maggie was the one with trauma—so much damn trauma it hurts to think about the stories she told me as she wept in my arms. But that’s hers, not mine.

I’ve also spent some time with Ethan and his boyfriend, Knox, who comes in often to hang out and spend time with Ethan. They both bring Hazel things too. Everyone seems awfully attached, and part of me wants to run before I get too used to it.

But I can’t do that to them or to Hazel. My daughter deserves to be spoiled, and not only that, but also loved. Which, God help me, I think that’s what this is. They love her. Or at the very least, they really care about her.

And I’m going to ride this wave for as long as I can because she deserves to have that. Something I never had. Something I tried to give her but failed.

A family.

Felix uses the shower, and since he’s started bringing clothes with him for after work, he’s wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt as we eat a quick dinner while watching mindless television. I give Hazel a bottle, and she falls asleep quickly in my arms, wiped out from the day and at peace.

I catch myself staring at her a lot when she sleeps. Not a care in the world.

I wonder if I had that, even as an infant.

“She’s out,” Felix says, and I realize he’s looking at her the same way I am, doing that thing to my heart again—squeezing in my chest.

I take her to her crib, which is next to my bed, lying her on her back and then resting my hand over her little beating heart, relishing that sweet feeling before I go back to the couch and take a seat next to Felix.

“What’s your family like?” I ask because he said they were close, but that’s all I’ve heard about them. It feels like he’s spent a lot of time getting to know me and my story—and even if I’m not sure what this is between us—I want to know more about him.

Even knowing it’s going to make it so much harder when he leaves.

He leans back against the couch, stretching out his long legs. “My mom’s a doctor—trauma surgeon.”

“Wow,” I breathe out because that’s impressive.

He smiles knowingly., “Yeah. She’s pretty amazing. And my dad, he’s a fireman.”

“Holy shit,” I say and can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips. “You’re a family of helpers.”

He laughs at that, and I don’t like the self-deprecating lilt to it. “Well, my brother is an EMT, so yeah, they are. And then there’s me.”

I turn to the side, facing him, bringing my leg up on the couch. “Then there’s you.” My tone is serious. It doesn’t hold any irony in it like his does. “The man who spends his free time hanging out with a single father to help with the baby. Who volunteers the rest of his free time. You’re a helper, Felix.”

He shrugs and looks away from me, keeping his smile on his face, but I worry it’s not real. “They’re literally saving lives every single day. They’re amazing. But I wasn’t ever really smart, you know? And Jesus, the idea of going into a burning building scares the ever-living fuck out of me.”

I grasp his cheek in my hand, turning his face so he’s looking at me, his eyes wide from the contact. “For the record, I’m glad you’re not a firefighter.”

His eyes search mine carefully. “And why’s that?”

“Because that would scare me too.” We haven’t talked about our kiss, and I don’t want to now either. Instead, I lean forward and brush my lips slowly over his, waiting for him to tell me we can’t do this.

Waiting for him to realize he’s too good for me, but instead, his fingers move to the back of my head and thread through my hair as he pulls me into him, intensifying the kiss. His hand grips my hair as his lips smash against mine, and when I open my mouth on a soft moan, his tongue sweeps inside.

We kiss like that for what feels like hours, but in reality, it’s only minutes. Then his fingers go to the hem of my shirt. He pulls back a little, his eyes asking the silent question. I give him a quick nod, and then my shirt is gone.

His is next, and I revel in every hard, cut line of muscle on his chest and abdomen. His body is firm and strong—absolutely incredible. I smooth my hand over his heated flesh, and his hand covers mine, letting me explore but going along for the ride.

I’m not sure how far I want to go with this.

My hand trembles under his, but he seems to know instinctively and breathes against my mouth, “You say stop, we’ll stop. No matter what. We can watch television,”—he kisses my lips—“or talk more.” I smile, and he kisses me again. “Or play a little.” He waggles his eyebrows in a ridiculous way that’s so damn Felix, I actually laugh.

God, I don’t remember the last time—if there ever was one—where my dick was so fucking hard it bordered on painful and I actually fucking laughed at the same time. Miraculously, it doesn’t ruin the mood.

It only makes it that more intense.

And that, in itself, is scary as hell.