“How far is it?” he asks as he eats and sips his coffee.
“Ten minutes or so. You okay?”
“A little nervous,” he admits, and I’m glad to hear him opening up to me.
“Listen, whatever we find out, I’m here for you, okay?” I assure him. I don’t realize my hand is resting on his leg until he glances down to where it sits on his thigh, and I immediately pull it away. “Sorry,” I mutter, but he just grins at me.
“I know,” he says. “Thank you.”
I nod. “When I get home, after dinner, I thought we could talk more about you getting your GED, if that’s something you still want. Maybe you could do some research on it after you get back home?”
“Okay,” he nods, seeming eager, and I’m glad. Charlie seems like a bright kid. I’d hate for all that potential to be wasted, and it would give him something to focus on and work towards. I’m worried he’ll get bored and lonely staying home all day and I want him to have things to keep his mind engaged and active.
We arrive at the medical office shortly and climb out, heading into the waiting room. Charlie signs in and we sit next to each other as we wait for his name to be called.
“I assume you want to go in alone,” I say. I can’t imagine he would want me with him but I figure I should mention it just in case.
“I think that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want you getting a hard on when they make me drop my pants.” He waggles his eyebrows.
My skin heats and I’m sure my face is scarlet. Fucking Charlie, why does he have to do that?
“Charlie Morrison,” the nurse calls, and he stands. He holds his hand out to me and I squeeze it, my flush returning.
“See you later, alligator.” He winks at me and I give him a reassuring smile. At least I hope it’s reassuring, but I can’t help the tightness that seeps into my chest as he disappears through the door and I’m no longer with him. God, why am I such a fucking wreck? I’m aching to be back there with him, holding his hand, holding him. My leg bounces up and down and I keep running my fingers through my hair. I get my phone out to give myself something to do while I wait, but nothing is holding my attention. All of my thoughts are on that boy. That adorable, sweet, sarcastic, smart-mouthed, beautiful, pain-in-my-ass boy.
Fuck, why do I feel like this? Why do I care for him so much and why do I feel so drawn to him? It’s fucking irritating.
“Hey,” I hear his voice and jerk my head up, and I can’t help myself. I stand and take him in my arms, hugging him tightly. He lets out a chuckle and I pull away.
“Worried?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course not,” I reply. “You just seemed like you needed a hug is all.”
“Sorry it took so long,” he says. “I waited in the room for the HIV results cuz they said it would only take twenty minutes.”
“They tested you for HIV?” My chest is constricting again. But he seems fine. Surely if he had tested positive he wouldn’t be this upbeat.
“Yeah, doc thought it was for the best when I told him my history and everything.”
“And?” I feel like I’m waiting on bated breath here.
“I’m negative, for that,” he says, and l breath a sigh of relief. “Still waiting for the results for the others. They said it could take up to ten days, and they’ll call me. If I haven’t heard from them by next Friday I should call.”
I nod and drape my arm over his shoulder. Getting tested for STIs is never fun, and I’m proud of him for being responsible and doing the right thing, for himself and his future partners. I’m hoping after the life he’s been dealt and the shitty people he’s let touch him, that he can still have a healthy and fulfilling sex life. He seems pretty positive and has a fairly sunshiny personality, but that stuff’s got to affect you no matter how much you pretend otherwise.
“You should be proud of yourself,” I tell him and press a kiss to the side of his head as we make our way to the parking lot.
He beams at me. “Thanks, Papa Bear.”
I ruffle his hair if only for an excuse to touch it, and we climb back into the truck.
“Be safe,” I say, pulling into the dirt driveway and putting the truck in park. “Call or text me if you need anything.”
“Sure thing,” he says, and pecks me on the cheek.
I remind myself to get an extra key made so he can have his own, but for now I give him mine. I won’t need it because he’ll be here waiting for me when I get home. And that thought has me smiling the entire way to work.
* * *
