TheFoo Fighters’ “Walking After You” filtered through the air. In a moment ofspontaneity, the acoustic notes drove me to drop my jacket to the floor andwrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close. She was startled as I took herhand, careful not to hurt her injured fingers, and persuaded her body to swayin time with mine. It took a few seconds and then her feet moved on their own, herhead pressed against my chest and her hand rested on my shoulder.
Shewas surrendering, I could feel it, but it still wasn’t time yet. I just neededthis, to dance with her, before leaving again and not seeing her for anothermonth.
“Youarefreedom,” I finally answered, when the song ended and I let her go.
“I’mtrying,” she rasped through a throat tight with surprise and conviction.
“Well,you are,” I persisted.
Shedidn’t press further as I picked up my jacket and ran upstairs to give Greysona hug. He was already sleeping, passed out on his bed with Dweezil under onearm. Crouching down, I kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair back, wishingI didn’t have to leave again so soon.
Openinghis eyes a crack, he mumbled, “Hey Dad. You leaving?”
Inodded regretfully. “Yeah, kid. I gotta get home and try to sleep for a whilebefore hitting the road tomorrow night.”
“Whydon’t you just stay here?” His arm tightened around Dweezil as the yellow Labsnuggled closer.
“I’dlove to, but uh … I’m not sure it’s the right time for sleepovers again, if youcatch my drift.”
“Mm,”he shrugged, burrowing his face further into the pillow. “You could stay inhere if you’re too chicken shit.”
Chuckling,I shook my head. “I’ll take a rain check, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
Hemuttered a “love you, Dad” before closing his eyes. “I love you too, kid,” Ireplied, kissing his forehead again and pulling his blanket up over his andDweezil’s shoulders. I left the room and took the stairs again, to where Tabbywaited for me by the front door.
“Atthe risk of sounding cheesy as hell, I’m most thankful for you this year,” shesaid as she opened the door.
Thepounding from my chest rang in my ears like church bells, telling me to seizethe moment. To make it mine. But I ignored the thunderous booms, as I smiledand wrapped her in a hug, breathing in her scent one more time before deprivingmyself for the month.
“Atthe risk of sounding like a pervert, I’m most thankful to say I’ve slept withyou,” I muttered quietly in her ear, and she groaned, shoving me away. Ichuckled, cocking my head and rolling my eyes, as I said, “And I guess I’mthankful to know you, too. But you know, not to make you feel bad, but, I’mmost thankful for Greyson.”
Herpalm smoothed over the leather against my chest. “You should be.”
“I’llsee you soon, Tabby,” I said, turning to head out the door, while wishing Icould leave her with alove youand a kiss. But I had been honest when Itold her she was freedom. She was mine; the freedom to love, the freedom to breakout of my cycle of casual fucking. The freedom to wait and be patient.
Thefreedom to give her the life we all, not just wanted, but deserved to have.
42
tabby
“Greyson!”I called up the stairs forwhat felt like the hundredth time. “Let’sgo!”
Thrustinga hand into my hair, I groaned and hurried to pull on a pair of ankle bootsthat hovered somewhere between dressy and casual. Sebastian had beenexcruciatingly vague when telling me about Christmas at his place. All he saidwas to come. Not what kind of clothes we were expected to wear, not what weshould bring … He just wanted us to be there, which was both sweet andirritating.
Justlike him.
Greysonthundered down the stairs with Dweezil at his heels. He was wearing the sweatervest and shirt I insisted he put on and he scowled, despite the jeans andsneakers I told him were fine.
“Ifeel ridiculous,” he complained, as I reached out to fix his hair. “Come on,Aunt Tabs! I’mfine!”
“Thisis your first Christmas with your father. Your grandparents, aunts, uncles, andGod knows how many cousins will also be there, and you’re going to look nice,”I ordered, smoothing down the tufts that were already brushing the tops of hisears. “Maybe you should get a haircut over winter break.”
“Hellno. I’m growing it out again.” He swatted my hands away and grabbed Dweezil’sleash from off a hook near the door. “Come here, Dweezy,” he commanded, and thedog listened obediently.
“Okay,you go get Dweezil into the—”
Iwas interrupted by a knock on the door. Curiously, I answered, swinging it opento reveal a man in a chauffeur’s hat. I narrowed my eyes, glancing between thedriver and Greyson, before asking, “Um, can I help you?”
