to Reagan that I needed to chat. When we went into his office, his face was a mask of fear, still concerned for my mental wellbeing after the client had assaulted me the other night. As soon as I started signing, though, my smile large enough that I felt cheek muscles tire with the effort, Reagan’s whole demeanor changed, becoming almost as pumped up as I was.
It took no time to draft the idea: We’d run a day-long special on palm-sized tattoos with all of the proceeds going to the center. Any shop member could donate their time and chair, but no one would be obligated to. Knowing the staff like I did—the family I’d chosen instead of the one I’d been born into—everyone would chip in.
“Thank you s-so much, Boss,” I said. “This is going to make a huge difference for those kids.”
“It’ll take some time to get the event together, but that way it won’t conflict with the relay race. This is a kick-ass idea.” Reagan paused and looked at me. “You’re family, Javi, you know that, right? We’ll always have your back.”
The sun was shining and I was bouncing on my toes. This race would have been somber if it hadn’t been for my talk with Reagan, but now that we had something in the works for the center, the future didn’t weigh quite so heavily on me. Of course, it relied on my plan working out, but with Reagan and the crew behind me… well, I was allowed to feel a little optimistic.
I was warming up for running in the relay when I heard Trinity, who’d come to support Dane and me as we ran, joke about a stroller and a familiar face. “Think he’s here to run or to tell us to shush?”
I glanced up and saw Gordo. My pulse, which had been calm and ready to run, began to beat as quick as a rabbit’s. Gordo was dressed in sweats—clean and not wrinkled—and was pushing a sleeping Giuliana in a stroller. He was wearing a runner’s tag on his back and stopped to stretch out his legs.
It hurt to see him, because just the nearness of him filled me with a flurry of emotions. After I’d basically had an emotional breakdown on his couch, I’d run out of his house the minute I thought he was actually going to kiss me. Like a fucking scaredy-cat, I’d dodged letting something happen that I wanted because I was too afraid I’d taint it.
But each time I saw Gordo, there was no denying how warm he made me feel, how at home underneath the burst of nerves. Even with all our misunderstandings, when we stopped and actually listened to each other, got to know each other, it was easy. Like we just fit together.
“Suck it up, Buttercup,” Dane whispered in my ear, making me jump. I’d been staring. A blush crept its way up my cheeks, and I looked at my laces, hoping they needed to be tied. They didn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I signed, though Dane’s look proved he knew it for the lie it was.
“If you aren’t going to chase after Hot Dad, then I just might,” Dane threatened, but I knew he was only joking.
Well, I hoped he was only joking.
“You’re a bully,” I complained, and then I flipped him the bird—a universal sign—before shoring up all my courage walking over to Gordo.
As I waved, I had to fight the flinch that wanted to follow. With the way I’d left things the week before, I was worried that he’d be pissed. Or at the very least confused. But Gordo smiled when he saw me, and it was pure sunshine.
He pushed the stroller over to me. “Hey, Javi! I hoped I’d see you here.”
It took tremendous effort not to blurt out a hopeful, You did?
“I’m glad t-to s...s-see you,” I mumbled instead, knowing my cheeks were red. Bending down and peeking into the stroller, I took a moment to find peace in the face of the sleeping baby. Giuliana was perfection, all rosy cheeks and blue eyelids, her tiny rosebud mouth open as she dozed.
“Are you?” Gordo asked.
Before I could stand and address the tension now bubbling between us, Dane trotted over. Because of course he would feel the need to interject himself into my business.
He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you officially, Gordo. I’m Dane.”
They shook, and Gordo’s rich brown eyes danced with amusement. “Have we met before?”