Chapter 48
At the door, I stopped him from reaching for it by grabbing his wrist. “I don’t regret it,” I said when he met my eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”
“Me, too. But it does, doesn’t it? At least until…” Peter paused, his lips thinning. “I don’t have any regrets. I don’t want you to think I do.”
That helped. A little. I nodded, uncertain what additional words might actually accomplish in this situation short of making me look pathetic.
So I didn’t speak. But I didn’t let him go, either. Not yet. Tugging him gently, I stepped forward to meet him, tilting my head to kiss him one last time.
Given the situation, I didn’t expect him to respond. I certainly didn’t expect him to kiss me back, but he cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer, his tongue skimming over my bottom lip. I parted my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, my head swirling from the taste and scent of him. I felt my cock stir, the blood rushing to my groin as I slid my tongue along his. My body strained toward his, already desperate for more contact, but he broke away. I might have made a small sound of protest—I definitely wanted to protest the sudden space and chill between us—and he answered with another brief, almost tender, kiss.
“Goodbye, Aaron.”
Even if my tingling lips would have allowed me to answer him, Peter didn’t. He opened the door and walked out, leaving me standing there, alone and more confused than I could ever remember being.
A part of me kept expecting him to turn around. Those kisses demanded more. So did I. Hell, we wouldn’t even have to do anything if he’d just come back. I could call his neighbor and have her run Morgan over, and we could spend the evening together the way we should’ve done from the start.
But he never did.
* * * *
I can’t say I was excited about the Wednesday evening play date. Christina had been cool but cordial when I’d finally spoken to her, exhibiting none of the warmth I’d come to associate with Peter at all. Apparently, Morgan had told her about the midnight trip to the ER, and while she was sympathetic to Sam’s situation, I got the impression she thought the friendship with Sam was more work than it was worth.
Sam would prove her wrong. I knew he would.
I would never have known her if Morgan hadn’t started jumping for our attention the second he spotted Sam. She was tall, nearly statuesque, and striking with black hair and an exquisite face. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Peter could attract such a stunning woman, but I hadn’t expected his ex-wife to be so…hot. And their marriage fell apart because he simply wasn’t attracted to her. Her smile was warm enough when she saw us approach, but it wasn’t reflected in her eyes.
“You must be Aaron.” She bent at the waist. “And you must be Sam. Morgan’s told me a lot about you.”
Sam smiled, though he edged a fraction closer to me. The exuberance he displayed with Morgan and Peter wasn’t typical. This polite shyness was. “Hi.”
“Why don’t you two run off and play while the light’s still good?” I suggested.
They didn’t need to be told twice. The boys took off toward the swings, Morgan keeping his pace slower so Sam could keep up.
“Thanks for agreeing to this,” I said to Christina. “Sam looks forward to seeing Morgan more than anything.”
“Yes, Morgan seems quite attached to Sam, too. It seemed much easier to sacrifice an evening than listen to Morgan go on about it for the full two weeks.”
My smile felt brittle where my features froze. This was her son she was talking about. Sacrifices came with the parental territory. But one night of standing in the dusky sunshine, watching your kid be happy with his best friend, hardly constituted a real deprivation.
“If there’s something you need to do, I don’t mind watching both boys.”
“Oh no, I’ve cleared my schedule for the evening.” She folded her arms and looked past me to the boys. “Is it safe for Sam to be running around like that?”
I looked just to be sure. The boys were chasing each other around the poles at the ends of the swing set, their laughter carrying all the way back to us. I’d seen them run faster—and stopped Sam, too—but this was tamer than usual, and Sam’s color seemed good. He wasn’t coughing or gasping, either.
“He’s fine,” I confirmed. “I’ve got his inhalers in case something happens.”
“And how often does something happen?”
I smiled, hoping it would help her relax a little. “Not as often as it used to. In fact, I haven’t ever had to use anything while we’ve been here.”
“That’s good. So do you live near here? Peter said you weren’t far from the park.”
“Not too far.” I pointed in the direction of our house. “Just a few blocks over. How do you feel about sleepovers? Sam really wants to make it up to Morgan about the last one.”
“Sleepovers shouldn’t be a problem with enough notice. Though I’d prefer if you kept them scheduled on Peter’s time.”
“Any particular reason?”
“It’s important for a child to have structure and a routine. Especially a child in Morgan’s situation. How would you feel if you had to move house every two weeks?”
“I think it sucks,” I said bluntly. The more she said, the more pissed off I got. “So basically, you want Morgan to have all of his sleepovers on Peter’s time—taking away time from Peter—because he had his firstone on Peter’s time?”
“No, not because of that. As I said, a child needs structure. So I like to keep a regular schedule. Peter is…less worried about that, so it makes sense for the sleepovers to be on his time.”
To me, that sounded like a rationalization not to be bothered with indulging her son in something he might want rather than what she wanted, but I held my tongue. She controlled Morgan’s schedule half the time, and honestly, if they were going to be friends, I needed to get along with her.