SWNOVELS Unravel Me: Chapter 9
Son. He’s my son.
Rosie is a mama.
Her eyes close as she presses a kiss to his forehead, and when she looks at me, beyond the pride, the love, I see the hesitation, like she’s worried what this might mean for us. I see the bleakest spot of grief, like she’s already accepted my decision, already said good-bye.
But I don’t like good-byes, and I’m certainly not willing to make her one.
I crouch next to Connor and smile. “Hi, Connor. I’m Adam.”
“Dada.” He pats my hand, then Rosie’s thigh. “Mama.”
“Oh my gosh.” Rosie’s face burns red. “I’m so sorry. It must be a new phase.”
Connor points down the hall. “Walk?”
“Are you and Mama going for a walk? Can I come too?”
He grins, so toothy and innocent, and he’s got the same splattering of tiny freckles across his teensy nose as his mom. “Walk.”
“We’re walking over to the park,” Rosie says, setting her backpack in the wagon. “You don’t have to come with us.”
“I’d love to, thank you.”
Her jaw drops. “I…well…but do you…” She gives up on words, choosing instead to twine her pastel waves around her finger.
“Unless you don’t want me to. Is that what you were wanting to talk to me about? That you don’t want to see me anymore?”
She frowns. “Of course I want to see you.”
“Great.” I plop her hat on her head. “The hat trick worked. Let’s go.” I take her hand, grab the handle of the wagon, and start pulling both green-eyed cuties toward the elevator. “So what did you want to talk to me about then?”
Rosie’s eyes drop to Connor. When they come back to me, the look she gives me says she’s not sure I’m all there. “That I have a son? You know, in case that wasn’t something you wanted in your life.”
“Why would that matter?”
She stares at her feet, tugs at her oversized T-shirt. “It matters to a lot of people.”
The whispered words are carved in heartache, so I squeeze her hand and promise, “It doesn’t matter to me. Now I get two for the price of one.”
Her gaze rises, moving cautiously between mine. “You really mean that?”
“I know this is new, that we haven’t known each other for long, but I feel something here. I’d like to explore it with you. Is that what you want too?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Then let’s spend some time together. We can move at whatever speed you’re comfortable with. I’m in no rush; I just want to keep getting to know you. You make me smile.”
She grants me one right here and now, bright enough to rival the July sunshine. “You make me smile too.”
“Brum-brum !” Connor shouts from behind us, pointing at a truck that whizzes down the street. “Tuck! Brum-brum !”
“That’s his engine noise. You should see him when a bus drives by. Loses his ever-loving mind.”
I park the wagon beneath the shade of a tree on the outskirts of the empty park, and we follow along as Connor tears over to the play equipment, yelling, “Pak! Pak!”
“How old is he?”
“Fifteen months. He was born in April last year.” She watches me out of the corner of her eye as Connor slips his hand into hers, climbing onto the small platform, leading to the slide. “Do you like kids?”
“I love kids. I do a bit of volunteering with some vulnerable ones.”
Her smile is soft, curious gaze raking over me. “That’s awesome, Adam.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing.” It’s not nothing. The Family Project, my fundraising events for Second Chance Home, brings in hundreds of thousands of dollars each year, helps fund their center, and brings new families together. It’s my pride and joy, my greatest accomplishment, and I like to keep it close to my heart.
“Dada !”
“Oh for God’s—Connor, this is Adam.” Rosie pats my chest. “A-dam.”
Connor blinks at her. Looks at me. Back to Rosie, then me. He points at the slide. “Dada, s-ide?”
Rosie buries her face in her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I start climbing onto the platform. “You want some help getting to the top, buddy?”
His fingers grasp mine, and I look down at the connection. His hand is so tiny, all his fingers wrapped around my pinky, and when he tugs me along behind him, I’m struck by the warm, tight feeling in my chest.
At the top of the slide, Connor pauses. “Dada, baby, s-ide.”
Rosie snickers. “Oh, baby. I’m not sure Adam can fit down the slide.”
My brows skyrocket. “He wants me to…?”
“Mhmm.”
“But I…” That little blue slide is narrow as fuck. I’m a fairly confident guy and I don’t turn down most challenges, but this…I don’t know about this. A lifetime of skating has given me what I’ve gracefully dubbed as a hockey butt. Hockey butts…they don’t fit down kids’ slides. “I’m sorry, buddy.” I glance over my shoulder, down at my own ass. “I don’t think…well, the thing is…”
“Adam’s got a bubble butt,” Rosie tells him seriously, as if he can understand the meaning behind her words. Her playful gaze rises to mine. “It’s perfect, by the way, and I’ve caught myself staring at it way too often, but don’t let it go to your head.”
The corner of my mouth lifts, exploding into a slow grin. “Too late. I can feel my head getting bigger by the second.” I lift my arms overhead with an exaggerated groan. “All right, buddy. Let’s do this. Let’s see if my perfect bubble butt gets us down this slide.” I scoot around him, wedge my hips between the plastic, and Connor squeals, launching himself into my lap. Pressing his back to my chest, I wrap my arms around him. “Ready?”
I push away from the slide, starting our descent.
It’s…
Entirely underwhelming. What the fuck.
I wiggle my hips as rigorously as I can, trying to gain momentum. Connor doesn’t seem to mind, giggling and screeching away, and best of all? I’ve never heard Rosie laugh like that before.
It’s beautiful and airy, so carefree and wild, letting me see how heavy it had been, the weight of wondering how I’d react to her having a son. I’d give anything to capture this moment in a photo, because right now, I see all of her, but more than that, I’ve found her.
I wonder if she’ll find me too.
We make it to the end of the eight-foot slide after twenty-five grueling seconds, and the second my butt hits the wood chips, Connor’s pulling me right back up. We ride it again and again, until he switches to the swing, and eventually Rosie has to pry him away for lunch.
Beneath the shade of a tree, Rosie unpacks sandwiches, fruits, and muffins from her bag. “It’s simple today.” She holds out a container of sandwiches. “PB banana.”
“Oh, no. I can’t. It’s for you two.”
“There’s enough for us all,” she assures me, placing a small plate of food in front of Connor.
“Ba-na,” he says excitedly, stuffing a bite of PB and banana sandwich in his mouth. “Ba-na!”
Rosie giggles and hands me a sandwich triangle. “I never know with Connor, so I always have extra. Some days he takes two bites and says done, and some days he—”
—toddles over to my lap, plops himself in it, and takes a bite of my sandwich, apparently. All while growling like a bear and still holding onto his own sandwich, which is, to be honest, highly fucking impressive.
“—doesn’t stop eating,” Rosie finishes with a sigh. “There’s no such thing as mine in our home. What’s mine is his, and what’s his is…well, it’s his too. I get the scraps.”
As if on cue, Connor offers his mom the crust of his sandwich. “Mama.”
Chuckling, I tickle his side. “You’re trouble, just like Mama, aren’t you?” He snickers, squirming in my lap before munching another bite of my sandwich. “Little trouble, that’s you, huh, buddy? That’s okay. I’ll share my sandwich with you any day.”
Connor takes one last bite before holding the crust up to my mouth, and I eat it without thinking.
“Probably not the kind of germs you were thinking of swapping, huh?” Rosie murmurs before her eyes widen. “Not that you were thinking of swapping any germs at all. Not, like, my germs and your germs. I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean, like, you were thinking of kissing me or anything ridiculous like that.”
“Uh-huh,” I muse, watching as she snatches up the garbage and leaps to her feet, hauling ass to the trash can.
Speaking of ass, the full curve of hers is out of this fucking world in those denim cutoffs.
“Are you looking at my bubble butt?” She slaps two hands over it, and I wanna fucking do that. Sinking back down beside me, she hides her shy smile in her muffin. “It’s not like yours.”
“You don’t have to rub it in, Rosie. I’m sensitive about my butt. I know yours is better.”
She stuffs the straw of her water bottle into her mouth, hiding her grin. “Shut up.”
“You’d have to make me.” I wink. “I can think of a few ways to do so if you’d like.”
She manages to make spluttering water all over herself cute, and Connor thinks it’s so funny he starts trying to do it too. They’re a perfect pair, looking like twins as he snuggles into her lap after lunch when she pulls out his favorite book, The Wheels on the Bus . I smile as she sings every word as he passes out in her lap, his thumb in his mouth, Rosie’s fingers running through his hair.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night,” Rosie says quietly, eyes dancing with vulnerability, an explanation she doesn’t owe me but wants to give me anyway. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, it’s just…I don’t date a lot. Besides it being hard to find time, it’s been such a letdown. The first date I went on after Connor was born, it was someone I’d talked to a few times while waiting in line for my morning coffee. I genuinely liked him, and when he asked me out, I was so nervous to be with anyone, let alone tell them I was a mom. But he was so nice, I told him about Connor fifteen minutes into the date. He barely spoke for the next ten minutes before excusing himself to the bathroom. He came back, said he wasn’t feeling well, and left. I ate by myself, trying not to cry. On my walk home, I saw him on the patio of the bar three doors down.” Her nose wrinkles. “Made it home to bed before I let the tears come. I think what I felt worst about was that I’d missed out on my son’s bedtime for someone who didn’t care about us.”
Covering her hand with mine, I give it a tender squeeze. “I’m sorry he didn’t recognize what he could’ve had, Rosie.”
“It’s no big deal. I just realized we wouldn’t be for everyone. I decided after that I wasn’t interested in dating. But my roommate and his boyfriend always try to get me out there every once in a while.” She lifts a shoulder. “I go, but with no expectations. It’s my policy that I don’t bring Connor into anything unless I feel a genuine connection. I’ve never had a second date with anyone, so…” Her lower lip slides between her teeth, and she swallows. “I’ve never had to deal with the rejection again.”
“Does this count as our second date?”
Wide, hopeful eyes collide with mine. “Do you want it to?”
I rub the pad of my thumb over her pretty purple nails before lacing our fingers together, marveling at how perfect her small hand feels in mine.
“I’m already planning the third.”