She giggles and shakes her head again. “No. I really did. My foster mom helped a little, but I made them.”
I pretend to study her in disbelief and then grin. “You did a damn good job.”
She brightens up, her big eyes full of light and a far cry from the way she looked when I first met her. It’s clear this foster family is working out. Thank god. “Thanks.”
“Someone has googly eyes,” Max says, and I think he’s talking about Laney at first, but when I turn to look at him, he’s aiming his teasing at Rhett, who’s stone-faced now.
“Do not.”
“Do too,” Max zings back, and I laugh.
“Aw, do you kind of like me now, Rhett?” I tease as he looks down at the sketch in front of him and not at any of us.
“I think so,” Max says happily, and Ian joins in too. We have a good time giving Rhett shit until the kids have to go home, and Rhett and I walk out to my car.
I don’t have to fight him on riding with me anymore. I just pick his ass up at his place or work, and we head here without fail every Tuesday and Thursday. Despite it being summer, the program is still running like clockwork.
The familiar sickening feeling fills my chest as I climb into my car, knowing that I’ll have to give them up soon too.
I don’t know how to do that either. Those kids have become a big part of my life.
“What’s wrong?” Rhett’s deep timbre pulls me out of my funk almost immediately because he’s here. At least for right now, he’s here.
“Nothing. Your place?” He squirms in his seat a little, and I notice he’s nervous about something. “What?”
“I was, um, thinking maybe you could drive us to Blair and Rhys’s place. I know for a fact, they’ll be having dinner in about an hour.”
“Oh yeah? And how’s that?”
He shrugs and still looks a little nervous. “Blair read a long time ago how important it is for kids to have structure. So, she made sure we ate dinner at the same time every night.”
I smile. “She sounds great.”
“She is. You wanna meet her?”
My heart is racing yet again, something that always seems to happen around Rhett. I should probably have that checked out. But meeting the parents? That’s a big step. “Yeah. Okay.”
He nods, finally seeming to calm a little and gives me the address. “I told Rhys about Hostile,” he says when we’re on our way.
“Yeah? How did he take it?”
“Really well. Way too fucking well.” His grin is wide now as he slides a hand through his hair and relaxes into his seat. “I think he was relieved he didn’t have to put up with me,” he says jokingly, and I have no doubt Rhys wanted him around. But I also had a feeling it would all be okay.
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.” He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. Finally finding his place in the world. His parents know he’s with a guy and were cool about it. He’s got the job he’s wanted and his dad’s blessing.
He grabs my free hand in his and rests them both on my thigh. And there’s that sick feeling again because I think he wants me in this whole new-life scenario too, but he won’t say it. I can’t say it either.
And it sucks.
I try to do what I’ve been doing and just push it away. Try to enjoy the right now and not worry about the future. But I know it’s running out soon.
When I park at his parents’ house we walk up, and he looks more excited than nervous. “They’re crazy. Just warning you.”
I smile because of the fondness in his voice. “I can handle it.”
He tries the door, and surprisingly, it’s not locked, so we walk inside. I see Bree first, who looks happily surprised as she wraps her arms around Rhett’s neck. “What are you doing here?”
Rhett laughs and hugs her back. “Thought we’d crash dinner.”
“Do you have news?” She grabs his shoulders and leans back a little with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “Are you knocked-up?”
He shoves her playfully, and she laughs before turning her gaze on me, looking guilty now, her face serious. “Grayson. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I’m really, really sorry about the party. I didn’t mean to—”
I raise a hand to stop her apology. I’ve already forgiven her. “It’s fine. Really.”
She doesn’t look relieved though. “It’s really not. That was so not cool. I’m sorry. And I’ll gladly offer bodily harm to Josh if he dares to say a word.”
I laugh easily at that because I have no doubt she will. “Nah. He’s a good guy.” I make a mischievous gesture of my own with my eyes. “You should date him.”
She fakes gagging, and we all laugh before Rhett wraps his arms around her shoulders. “Let’s eat.”
She leads us into the dining room where a pretty blonde woman is fussing at Fletcher and a stoic, good-looking, giant man is sitting at the head of the table, shaking his head in amusement. I know they’re his parents, and the woman is Blair. She looks over at us, and her entire face lights up as she bounces over to us. “Rhett! Oh my god! You’re here for dinner?”
She hugs him, and Rhett laughs—the sound I still can’t get used to but want to hear more and more. “Yeah. I was just here. You guys act like it’s been years.”
“That was to drop a drunk-ass Bree off, not to spend time with us.” She releases him and turns to me. “Oh my god. You’re Grayson, aren’t you?” She turns to Rhett, all proud. “You brought a boy home.”
Rhett groans and turns to me. “See? Crazy.”
I laugh because I can definitely handle this type of crazy, even when the much smaller woman wraps her arms around me and hugs me so tight, I struggle to breathe. “I’m Blair. Super happy you’re here. Sit.”
“I would if I could breathe,” I say with a chuckle.
She releases me, and I suck some air into my lungs before nodding back at the man who must be Rhys. He offers me a quick nod, and I’m really grateful he’s not a hugger. If his wife could nearly break my ribs, not sure what kind of damage he’d do. According to Rhett, though, Rhys isn’t much for touching.
We take a seat next to each other, and Blair waves her hand toward the delicious-smelling food. “This was delivered. Just so you know, I don’t cook.”
“That’s totally fine with me.”
“Why would you tell him that, Blair?” Bree asks with a smile, scooping potatoes onto her plate. “You could have taken credit for it.”
Blair shakes her head. “Hell no. Then what would I do if he got used to it and thought I could cook? No.” She looks at me, her smile bright and kind. “I don’t cook at all. I’d rather not burn the house down.”
“We’re all grateful for that too, Blair.” Rhys says, and she raises her middle finger at her husband playfully.
Fletcher stares at me from his seat across the table, and I wait for him to tell me to get the hell out of his house and away from his brother or something. But he only asks me to pass the rolls, which I do. He grins smugly at me, shaking his head. “Fucking Grayson Lancaster.”