18. Henry

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

henry

I wake up the next morning to a kiss on my nose. When I open my eyes, I see Felix’s sweet face, his eyes shining with something I’m not familiar with. “Morning.”

Last night, after we both came and then I held him for a few minutes in my arms on the couch, we headed to the bathroom to clean up. It was initially awkward when we walked out of the bathroom, but then I just grabbed his big hand and pulled him toward the bed. He looked so damn relieved, I felt like an asshole. Like he thought I’d kick him out right after.

I couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to him, despite my fear of growing too attached.

I think it might be a little late for that.

“I have to go feed my cat. He’s going to be more than a little pissed at me,” he whispers, but he’s grinning, which causes me to do the same.

I grasp the back of his neck and pull him down for a quick kiss, wanting to pull him back under the covers and make him stay here all day with me. “Can’t have a pissed-off cat.”

“Hell no. Cats are vindictive as fuck.”

I chuckle and reluctantly let him go as I sit up, and he stands next to the bed. I can see he’s pulled on his shirt and tennis shoes after sleeping in only his sweats last night. “I’ll see you at work?” I hate how uncertain my voice sounds.

He looks at me, his eyes searching mine, then he nods. “I’ll be back before that. I’ll bring you some breakfast.”

“Felix . . .” I start, but he’s already heading for the door.

“I’ll be back!”

I tell him goodbye as he leaves and then climb out of bed, seeing Hazel is still asleep, but I know it won’t be for long. I take the world’s fastest shower, listening for her as I do, but it’s quiet.

As I get dressed, I think about how relaxed and sated my body feels. About the way he kissed me and touched me last night. About the heat of his mouth enveloping me . . .

And then I stop that train of thought because I have to get ready, and there’s no time to jerk off this morning.

Moments later, I’m reminded why when Hazel sits up in her crib and looks for me. She doesn’t cry. When she spots me, she smiles and makes da-da noises. I change her and get her ready for the day, just as Felix knocks on the door again.

Damn, that was fast.

I let him in, and he takes Hazel while I get her morning bottle ready. I want to ask him what last night meant. If there’s going to be a repeat. If we should. But he’s busy playing with Hazel and takes the bottle from me, directing me to eat, and I decide to bask in the morning-after glow.

Leaving the discussion for another time like the coward I am because, as scared as I am he’ll eventually leave, hearing him say he doesn’t want anything else with me is far more unnerving.

I allow myself to watch him, holding my baby and feeding her, talking about the day ahead, and I let myself hope.

Just for a moment.

With Maggie, I never once had that hope. I saw the dead look in her eyes when she was around Hazel. I saw how badly she was itching to get away, but with Felix . . .

God, with Felix, everything is so different.

I know it’s too soon to do this—to hope for a future. To put him in the position of choosing a future with us. But I can’t stop my mind from going there.

“You okay?” he asks, concern and confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. I am.” I lean over and can’t resist brushing my lips over his for a quick kiss. When I pull back, I see nothing but a beautiful smile on his handsome face.

We eat and grab Hazel’s things, heading downstairs to the already bustling gym, getting our day started.

A couple of hours into my shift, I’m joined by Brooks, who’s back from a recent trip, looking very tan and happy as he holds Hazel on his lap. “God, she’s cute.”

I smile, looking at my baby girl and agreeing, “She is.”

“I can see why Colby and Ben have baby fever now. I might have to start in on Rome.”

It surprises me how open everyone is with their feelings around here, but I’m starting to get used to it. “Oh yeah? You guys want kids?”

He shrugs. “We travel a lot. Not really a life for a kid.”

I think of all the places Hazel has already lived in her young life, and I can’t help but agree. But I don’t doubt those two men would be amazing parents. “You could figure it out.”

He makes googly faces at Hazel and is smiling so big, I’d say he’s definitely caught the baby fever too. “Possibly. Although I wouldn’t mind just being Uncle Brooks either.”

My chest constricts at the thought because the way he said that, it was like he wasn’t just referring to Ben and Colby’s child. Like there’s room for Hazel too. Which is fucking crazy.

I’ve never had a family before. This feels a little too unreal.

“You okay? You look pale.” I nod, swallowing the sick feeling, then meet his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m okay. It’s just . . .”

His head is cocked to the side with concern. “What?”

“It all feels . . .” I swallow again, feeling stupid as my eyes search out Felix across the gym, where he’s helping someone figure out the weights, then back at Brooks, who I find staring knowingly at me.

“Yeah. I get that. It’s overwhelming when you finally come home.”

“What?” I ask.

He just grins. “This can be your home.” He looks down at the baby on his lap, playing happily with the string of his hoodie. “And hers.”

“For how long though?” I ask bitterly, my past creeping up in my consciousness.

He doesn’t sound put off when he says, “For as long as you’ll allow it to be, Henry. I know you’ve had it tough.” I tense up, and he must notice, but he keeps going, “But there really are good people. People who will stay. Hell, people who, no matter how hard you try to push them away, refuse to leave.”

I’ve never met anyone like that. “That’s never been my reality.”

“It is now,” he says easily and stands up, reluctantly giving Hazel back to me. “I have to get going. I’m meeting Roman for lunch, but if you ever need anything, let me know. I’d probably trust Colby and Ben to babysit over me since, you know . . . I have no idea what I’m doing. But if you need something, I’ll be there.”

I give him a quick nod, wanting to thank him for that but not able to find the words. I want to trust them all so badly.

It’s right there under the surface, but I don’t know how.

I don’t know how to turn off the worry that they’ll get sick of it. That they’ll grow tired of helping me out.

I want to believe them so badly, it hurts.

But every instinct inside me tells me I can’t.