Rule Breakers (Off Limits #2) - Nicky James Page 0,54
know he loves you, right?”
“I know.” And I did know. As much as it might not seem like it sometimes, deep down, Dad loved me to death.
“He’s always worried that he’s messed up this parenting thing. This just feels like one more fuck-up to him,” Uncle Denver explained.
“It’s not.”
“He’ll come around.”
The shower ran, the old pipes in the walls rattling. I rested my head on Uncle Denver’s shoulder for a while, basking in his comfort, replaying and overanalyzing our night.
“Do you think of me as a kid too?” I asked.
Uncle Denver chuckled. “You are a kid, but no. Not when we’re in bed. In bed, you are the very essence of all my fantasies.”
I groaned and buried my face in his neck. “What about Dad? I thought he was the essence of your fantasies.”
“He plays his part in them as well.”
“More than me?” The finger-brushing, shared looks, and the whispered conversation that had halted the minute I’d walked into the room were still fresh in my mind.
“It’s not a competition, Eddy. You both play an equal part in my life.”
“But he came first.”
“Yes, but there is a reason I said this was an all or nothing deal. I don’t want Harley more or less than you. I want you both the same. And if I can’t have that, so be it. But I won’t choose.”
“Dad would choose. He’d pick you.”
“Maybe before last night, but I think you’re wrong. In the light of a new day and all we shared, your dad is coming to terms with something he didn’t expect.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Uncle Denver peeled me off his body, and I missed his warmth. He took my face again and kissed me. His tongue laced with mine, and I melted against him, taking all I could get, lapping eagerly and hungrily at his mouth. The rasp of his stubble bit into my skin as his fingers clung, raking across my scalp and drawing me closer still.
“You’ll make the kid hard doing that, idiot. I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking exhausted. I slept for shit. There will not be a round two unless I crash for at least six more hours.”
Uncle Denver pulled away, glancing over my shoulder at my father who’d snuck up on us. “You need to put his mind at ease, Harley.”
I stilled, waiting for Dad’s response. There wasn’t one. When his empty mug clattered in the sink, I shifted away from my uncle. Dad avoided eye contact like I was Medusa and would turn him to stone. The tight line of his shoulders and the rigid edge of his jaw made me doubt everything Uncle Denver had said.
“I’m going to leave you two alone. Please sort this shit out. We have other things to discuss, and until you two can look at each other, we can’t move forward.”
Dad sneered at Uncle Denver but didn’t argue.
Uncle Denver brushed his thumb along my cheek and winked before moving to my dad. He grabbed his hand, no pretenses this time, and tugged him into his space. They shared a brief kiss that knotted my belly again, then spent a solid minute having a silent conversation with just their eyes.
Uncle Denver left us alone, and I wished I’d found more clothes than underwear when I’d gotten up. The tile floor and heavy atmosphere gave me chills.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. When Dad inhaled deeply through his nose and sighed it out again, I knew he was going for broke. He’d started many difficult conversations like that, and I recognized his method. He pierced me with the stern glare I’d seen a million times in my life.
Sometimes when Dad looked at me, it was like looking through a window into my future. It was uncanny. I knew exactly what I would look like in twenty years because I was his carbon copy. I’d always thought him a good-looking guy. The lines beside his eyes and mouth were evidence he’d spent a lot of time smiling and laughing. But there were a few across his forehead that told me he’d also spent a lot of time frowning or stressed.
He crossed the room, planted himself in front of me, leaving the counter at my back so I couldn’t escape. He snagged my chin, the way he always did when he was angry and wanted to ensure I wouldn’t look away when he was talking. It was rough but not painful. I’d learned never to fight it.