Page 109 of Under Water
He laughs against my lips, then pulls back with a shrug. “I have a better life now. A family. People around me who care and love me.”
“Like me. I love you,” I tell him. It’s easier to say this time, and the way it makes his eyes brighten makes all of this worth it.
He nods, then glances over his shoulder. “I’d like to be a good dad—stepdad—” he corrects like it’s going to bother me. “I’m kind of scared of fucking up because I don’t know what I’m doing. I didn’t have, like, grandparents or aunts and uncles that filled in those gaps when Leo and I were growing up. It was just survival, I guess.”
“You’re already doing amazing,” I tell him. I get back to chopping the fruit for the pancake frittata, which I now know is homemade pancake batter filled with hazelnuts, chopped fruit, and a sprinkling of chocolate chips, poured into an extra-hot, extra-buttery cast iron pan, then covered and left to cook.
It’s not something I’d want all the time, and I’m still wondering if it tastes so good because it’s made with actual love.
And right now, he’s making a gluten-free version of it for Elio, and that alone makes me want to profess my undying loyalty. And it reminds me that my bar for nice things from a partner is on the fucking floor.
“I’m starving,” Elio says as he rolls into the kitchen with Daphne behind him. He’s dressed up and looks nice.
“You going somewhere?” I ask.
He looks thrilled. “Yes! Mom’s taking me out for the day. She says you two need some alone time because I’m a cock-blo—”
“Elio!” she says loudly, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving me a guilty smile.
I hold back a laugh, and Easton is facing away from them, his shoulders shaking.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not five. I know what a cock-block is, okay? I also know that Dad’s a DILF and—”
“Oh my god,” Daphne singsongs very loudly. “We’re going to eat and then go to the aquarium, and then I got PPHL hockey tickets for me and Elio tonight.”
“I can’t wait to watch them punch each other in the face,” Elio says like he’s hungry for blood.
Easton swallows, then turns around and smiles. “My coworker’s new roommate is a former pro hockey player.”
Elio’s eyes fly open wide. “From the sled team?”
Easton shakes his head. “Blind team, but he knows tons of guys on the sled team. So I bet if we butter him up, he could arrange a meet-and-greet or something.”
“Holy fuh—” He stops himself and smiles way too sweetly. “Holy frick.”
“Good enough,” I tell him flatly. Then I look over at Easton, who’s back to mixing the pancake batter. “Well, go and take your meds, and I’ll get the table set. Easton made you his specialty pancake frittata.”
“Extra chocolate in mine,” Elio says loudly as he rolls toward the table.
Easton looks over at me, and I shrug. A bit of extra chocolate won’t matter much. And at this point, I’m willing to give him whatever he wants because it’s a reminder that he’s here and that all of us are safe.
As soon as I shut the door, Easton winds his arms around my waist, then spins me and pins me to the door, kissing me slowly and deeply. I close my eyes and lean in, letting myself simply feel him without the need to hurry, or to keep one ear out for Elio’s monitors, or feel on edge like at any second, a call is going to disturb us.
He drags his palms up my sides, then cups my jaw and leans back, staring straight into my eyes. “Hi.”
I laugh quietly. “Hi.”
“You’re really fucking gorgeous. I feel like I haven’t said that to you enough.”
My cheeks start to burn, and I glance away. “Thank you.”
“Do you believe me?” he presses.
I make myself look back at him. “Yes. I believe you.”
It doesn’t matter how often I’ve been told that I’m good-looking. Hell, Neal was a master at manipulating through compliments, and half the time, I believed him when he told me how good-looking I was.
But no one’s ever made me feel like I was worthy of the compliment as much as Easton. Not because I don’t like myself, but because he says it without any reservations. Like he just wants me to know and to believe him.
