Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Something sugary. Preferably coke.” He smiles and shows me his white teeth. “Reckon I’ll still have these when I’m thirty?”
“You’re not thirty?” I jest, earning me a slap on my arse as I walk by. I ignore the fact that his hand lingers and squeezes for a moment and scurry to the kitchen to make drinks.
As soon as my mum walks in, she hands Dillan to me and goes upstairs, no doubt giving us our privacy. I feel slightly nervous as I step into the room, cooing at my little man. What will Eric think? Will he run for the hills? Will he be all weird and distant?
There’s only one way to find out. “Eric, meet Dillan. Dillan, meet Eric.” Then I pray that he doesn’t puke on the shiny man on the sofa.
“Well he’s very handsome.” Eric grins as I sit beside him with Dillan balancing on my knees. Dillan smiles at Eric, followed by a few gurgling noises and a slight giggle. “He also finds me funny. This is good. If he’d screamed at me I may have cried and hid behind the sofa.”
I laugh. “What?”
“That’s what I did when my litter sister was brought home. She screamed at me. I cried and hid behind the sofa.”
“You really aren’t normal, are you?”
He scratches his head and grins. “I was afraid you’d figure that out.”
“Want to hold him?”
He thinks about it for a moment before nervously holding out his hands. I slide Dillan from my knee to his, where Eric tentatively reaches for him and holds him under his arms with his fingers splayed across his back. “This isn’t so bad. I was worried.” Dillan smiles as he usually does. “He doesn’t look like you much.”
“I know.” I run my fingers over the fuzz on my little boy’s head. “He looks like his dad. Same easy smile, same eyes.”
“I’ve seen his picture in your room. I definitely see the resemblance.” He winks at me and nudges me with his elbow. “What do I do now?”
Dillan answers for him, grabbing the bottom of his top with his tiny fist and pulling it to his mouth. I sigh and tug it away. He only goes for the sleeve of his top this time, bending his body forward so his mouth can reach. “He’ll be teething soon. Keep hold of him for a second; I need to grab his teething ring before he chews a hole through whatever part of you he can reach.”
“We don’t mind, do we buddy?” Eric coos in a baby voice, causing me to lift a brow. He looks at me defensively. “What? I like babies.”
Eric left ten minutes ago, after staying for lunch and dinner. It’s kind of lucky that Nathan did leave yesterday, seeing as Eric showed up on my doorstep this afternoon without warning. Mum was out with Dillan by this point; she likes going for a walk when she wakes up and usually takes him with her.
At least now I can wallow in peace. I don’t think I handled yesterday very well. Not at all. My emotions are all over the place.
Nathan isn’t right for me, but what he said was right.
I do love him. I know that.
I just don’t love him like he loves me, or like he thinks he loves me.
No, he definitely loves me; that much is obvious. I’ve been a fool. A complete and total idiot.
I can’t believe after he told me he loved me, straight out, no pretences, I asked him to be my friend. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really that selfish?
Apparently so.
I want to say that I’m sorry. I want to take it back, but I can’t, because it won’t change. Nothing will. It’s not fair on him if I do that.
It’s not right.
Eric is right. He’s new, he’s uncomplicated and he respects me… so far anyway. Gah.
But Nathan... well… he’s Nathan.
Caleb begged me to stay away from him. I already broke that, but I didn’t have a choice. Why would he ask that of me? It makes no sense.
Is that really the reason I’m not with Nathan right now? I heard the words come out of my mouth and I felt them as I said them, but before now it’s never been an issue.
Or maybe it has.
“I’m coming.” I say to my crying little boy, who is no longer happy in his swinging chair.
He doesn’t stop when I pick him up. He’s grumpy and tired and no doubt a little bit hungry.
I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.
******
“You look dead on your feet.” Valentine clucks at me, her face a mask of concern.
“Rough night.” I reply, placing the large tray of cinnamon bagels in the oven.
“Dillan?” I nod in response. “Sip a bit of brandy before you feed him at night. It’ll wipe him out.”