Page 83 of Beautiful Crazy
“Mom told me that you’re her boyfriend.” He laughs as soon as he says it, his cheeks turning red.
That’s the first time I’m hearing that phrase out loud, and I can’t deny the thrill it sends through my blood. “She did?”
“Yup.”
“Want some lemonade?” I ask him, standing up from the steps. He nods and follows me inside. Sutton takes a seat on the stool at the bar that overlooks the kitchen as I grab a cup out of the cabinet. “What do you think about that?” Nerves chomp away at the lining of my stomach.
I don’t think it hit me until right now just how much I want him to be okay with this. Of course, I’ve always wanted him to be cool with the situation, but as I stand here before him, waiting for him to respond, I realize how important his acceptance is. I’m not just dating his mom, I’m stepping into his life in a potentially new role, and I need him to feel comfortable with that.
And not just for that reason, but also because I’ve come to love him as much as I love his mom, and even though Ihaven’t told her that yet, I hope she knows—and him too—how much Sutton means to me. That I’m not taking this lightly.
“I think it’s awesome,” he announces. “As long as you don’t stop playing ball with me.”
I bark out a laugh as I set his glass of lemonade in front of him. “Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that, buddy. You’re stuck with me.”
His eyes glint from above the glass as he takes one of those huge, chugging gulps that causes him to drag in a lungful of air when he’s done. I don’t know why all kids do that, like it’s a race.
Then he hits me with a question that knocks the wind right out of me, one I wasn’t anticipating at all.
“Does this mean you’re going to be my dad now?”
In an instant, my eyes sting, and I feel completely unqualified to answer this question. Sutton’s looking at me with big, curious eyes, and I’m desperately wishing Gemma were here to jump in.
But she’s not, so I’m going to answer this in the best way I know how. With honesty.
“Well, bud, I know that you already have a dad, even if he’s no longer here with you anymore, and I would never dream of replacing him in your heart.” I swallow against the lump in my throat, finding it hard to talk. “That said, I care about you a great deal, and I hope you know that. You and your mom are so special to me, and I will be whatever you need me to be. I’m not here to step on any toes or make you feel uncomfortable. I will be as much or as little as you need. Like I told your mom too, we can go at your pace, do what makes you feel okay.”
As he looks up at me, my chest squeezes. “Is it okay if I tell you that I love you?”
Eyes welling up, I smile. “That’s more than okay, buddy.”
“Okay, cool!” Then with a shrug, he grabs his lemonade and chugs down some more, and that’s apparently the end of that conversation. “Wanna play catch before I have to take a shower?”
Breathing out a laugh, I clap my hands together. “Yeah, let’s play some catch.”
Thirty-Four
Everett
Afresh wave of nerves hits me as I step into the office. I’ve known this meeting was coming all week, and yet I feel completely unprepared. Gemma and I have gone through what I’m going to say dozens of times, though.
“Hey, Everett,” Colleen, the school receptionist, greets as I come to a stop at the counter.
“Hi, Colleen. I have an appointment with Nick.”
“I’ll let him know you’re here, dear.”
Today’s the day I let the school know about my relationship with Gemma. I meant what I said to her; I highly doubt they’re going to take any action about this. It’s mostly just to keep things out in the open. Blossom Beachisa small town, and people are bound to find out eventually. Although, the little niggling of fear in the back of my mind is there, telling me they could remove Sutton, which I don’t want. It’s never ideal to make a kid switch classes mid-year, but more than that, I enjoy having him in my class. And not just because he’s Gemma’s son. He’s a great student.
“Mr. Windward,” Nick, the principal, gruffs as he walks out of his office. “How are you?”
Standing up, I make my way over to him. “I’m well. Thank you, sir. How are you?”
“I’m doing good. Please come in.”
I take a seat in front of his desk as he takes the chair across from me. Pictures of his wife and their three kids line the counter behind him.
“So, tell me,” he starts, folding his hands together on top of his desk. “How’ve things been going for you here?”