up, his face opening into a wide smile when he saw me. “Hey, you get settled in? Is Paula okay in the back room?”
Damn it. Why was he like this? Why did he look at me like my very presence made him deliriously happy?
I padded over to where he was and kneeled down next to him. “It’s great, thanks. We probably will have to forcibly remove her from that room tomorrow though. Our dad never let us have a TV in our room, so whenever she has a chance to watch TV in bed she goes a little nuts.” He beamed as if his enabling my sister’s cable addiction was his greatest achievement of the day. “Thanks for offering, by the way. I love my family, and having them here is a really nice surprise, but I was not prepared to have my house completely taken over.”
He shook his head as if it was nothing, “No need to thank me. I have plenty of space. It’s nice having people using those rooms. It’s the nicest place I’ve lived in, and other than the Exiles, I’ve had no visitors.”
He blushed then, and looked down. I’d seen him do this before, act embarrassed or ashamed whenever he talked about his background or his lack of family and friends. I wanted to brush the black curls out of his eyes and soothe him, tell him that being here with him after the happy chaos of a holiday with my family felt like an oasis. Like the perfect ending to a good day. A day his presence had made so much better.
But instead I gave a short nod and said nothing. We looked at each other for a long moment and it was almost like he could see everything I wasn’t saying. That my silence was my only defense against the foolish things he was making me feel.
Just as I was about to make an excuse and flee to my room, I saw a little furry head peek out of the couch. I touched Rocco’s chin to get his attention and pointed down. Pulga was out from her hiding place and getting busy with her dinner. We both smiled at the little pest as she inhaled the fishy-smelling food. I got up first, and Rocco followed suit. We both stood there in the dim light of his living room, a few feet apart, not moving. His chest heaved up and down, as if his heart had suddenly gone into overdrive.
I gestured toward the open bedroom door. “I should head to bed. It’s—”
I looked at my watch and realized it was only 9:00 p.m., not exactly bedtime yet. “I should go, give you some space.”
He furrowed his brows, like I’d said the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “Space from you?” My heart was thumping in my chest for this man. “I like having you here. I liked spending the day with you and your family.” He put his hands in his pockets and those blue eyes shone with gratitude.
“Thank you, Julia. It’s been a while since I’ve had a Thanksgiving like that.” He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then closed it and looked to the side. “Whenever I’m in New York, I usually go to Coach’s house, but I always go see my parents first.” He let out a long breath, as if merely talking about his family exhausted him. “So, I’m always a little out of it by the time I get to his place. My family is a lot.”
I almost rolled my eyes and said “So is mine” or something in that vein, but I stopped myself. I knew the struggle of growing up in a home where the adults couldn’t or wouldn’t care or nurture their children. The long-lasting scars of that kind of upbringing, all the work it took to undo the feelings of worthlessness for the adults who survived childhoods without a sense of safety. It would not be fair to act like my family’s admittedly poor boundaries or loudness compared to what Rocco dealt with.
Rocco was strong. So fucking strong, and kind. To me, to everyone, even to his parents, who continued to treat him poorly. Before I knew what I was doing, I closed the distance between us.
This was not a fluke or something I was doing just because either. I wanted him, and I reached up for him.
“It was nice being with you today. My folks loved you.” I stood up