being emasculated.
I give him a quick kiss on his forehead and hand him back to
Rachel. She does the same and passes him on to the nurse.
We both watch as the nurse leaves the room with him.
I look back at Rachel and crawl toward her until Im lying next
to her on the bed.
We have the place to ourselves, I whisper. Lets make out.
She grimaces. I dont feel sexy right now, she says. My
stomach is flabby, and my boobs are engorged, and I need a
shower so bad, but it hurts too much to try to take one right
now.
I look down at her chest and pull at the collar on her hospital
gown. I peer down her shirt and grin. How long do they stay
like this?
She laughs and pushes my hand away.
Well, how does your mouth feel? I ask her.
She looks at me like she doesnt understand my question, so I
elaborate.
Im just wondering if your mouth hurts like the rest of you
hurts, because if it doesnt, I want to kiss you.
She grins. My mouth feels great.
I rise up on my elbow so she doesnt have to roll toward me.
I look down on her, and seeing her beneath me feels different
now.
It feels real.
Until yesterday, it really did feel like we had been playing
house. Of course, our love is real, and our relationship is
real, but until I witnessed her give life to my son yesterday,
everything I felt before that moment was like childs play
compared to what I feel for her now.
I love you, Rachel. More than I loved you yesterday.
Her eyes are looking up at me like she knows exactly what Im
talking about. If you love me more today than you loved me
yesterday, then I cant wait for tomorrow, she says.
My lips fall to hers, and I kiss her. Not because I should but
because I need to.
Im standing outside Rachels hospital room. She and Clayton
are both in the room, napping.
The nurse said he hardly even cried. Im sure she tells all the
parents that, but I believe her anyway.
I take out my phone to text Ian.
Me: He got snipped a few hours ago. Took it like a champ.
Ian: Ouch. Im coming to meet him tonight. Ill be there
after seven.
Me: See you then.
My father is walking toward me with two coffees in his hands,
so I slide my phone into my back pocket.
He hands me one of the coffees.
He looks like you, he says.
Hes trying to accept it.
Well, I look just like you, I say. Cheers to strong genes.
I hold my coffee up, and my dad bumps his against it, smiling.
Hes trying.
He leans against the wall for support and looks down at his
coffee. He wants to say something, but its hard for him.
What is it? I ask, giving him the opening he needs. He lifts
his eyes from their focus on the coffee, and he meets my gaze.
Im proud of you, he says with sincerity.
Its a simple statement.
Four words.
Four of the most impactful words Ive ever heard.
Of course, its not what I wanted for you. No one wants to see
his son become a dad at the age of eighteen, but … Im proud
of you. For how youve handled it. For how youve treated
Rachel. He smiles. You made the best of a difficult situation,
and thats honestly more than most adults would do.
I smile. I tell him thank you.
I think the conversation is over, but its not.
Miles, he says, wanting to add more. About Lisa … and
your mom?
I hold my hand up to stop him. I dont want to have this
conversation today. I dont want this day to become his defense
for what he did to my mother.
Its fine, Dad. Well discuss it another time.
He tells me no. He says he needs to discuss it with me now.
He tells me its important.
I want to tell him its not important.
I want to tell him Clayton is important.
I want to focus on Clayton and Rachel and forget all about the
fact that my father is human and makes awful choices like the
rest of us.
But I dont say any of that.
I listen.
Because hes my father.
Chapter twenty-nine
TATE
Miles: What are you doing?
Me: Homework.
Miles: Feel like taking a swim break?
Me: ??? Its February.
Miles: The rooftop pool is heated. It doesnt close for another hour.
I stare at the text, then immediately look up at Corbin. Theres a rooftop pool here?
Corbin nods his head but doesnt look away from the TV. Yep.
I sit up straight. Are you kidding me? Ive lived here this long, and you fail to tell me theres a heated rooftop pool?
He faces me now and shrugs. I hate pools.
Ugh. I could slap him.
Me: Corbin never mentioned there was a pool. Let me change, and Ill head over there.
Miles: ;)
I realize I forgot to knock as soon as I close the door to his apartment. I always knock. I guess my mentioning in a text that I was coming over after I changed seemed good enough to me, but the way Miles is staring at me from the doorway of his bedroom makes me think he doesnt like the fact that I didnt knock.
I pause in his living room and look at him, waiting to see what mood hes in today.
Youre in a bikini, he says pointedly.
I look down at my attire. And shorts, I say defensively. I look back up at him. What are people supposed to wear when they swim in February?
Hes still standing frozen in his doorway, staring at my attire. I fold my towel across my arms and over my stomach. I suddenly feel extremely awkward and underdressed.
He shakes his head and finally begins moving toward me. I just … Hes still staring at my bikini. I hope no one is up there, because if youre wearing that bikini, these swim shorts are going to be really embarrassing. He looks down at his shorts. At the obvious bulge in them.
I laugh. So he actually likes the bikini.
He takes another step forward and slides his hands around to the back of my shorts, then pulls me against him. I changed my mind, he says with a grin. I want to stay here.
I immediately shake my head. Im going swimming, I say. You can stay here if you want, but youll be alone.
He kisses me, then backs me toward his apartment door. Then I guess Im going swimming, he says.
Miles enters the passcode for rooftop access, then opens the door for me. Im relieved to see that no one else is out here, and I am taken by how breathtakingly beautiful it is. Its an infinity pool, overlooking the city, and its lined with patio chairs, all the way to the opposite end, where its capped off with an attached hot tub.
I cant believe neither of you thought to mention this before now, I say. All these months, and Ive been missing out.
Miles takes my towel and lays it on one of the tables surrounding the pool. He walks back over to me and drops his hands to the button on my shorts. This is actually the first time Ive ever been out here. He unzips my shorts and pushes them over my hips. His lips are close to mine, and his expression is playful. Come on, he whispers. Lets get wet.
I kick off the shorts at the same time as he takes off his shirt. The air is incredibly cold, but the steam rising from the water is promising. I walk to the shallow end to descend the steps, but Miles dives headfirst into the deep end of the pool. I step in, and my feet are swallowed up in the warmth of the water, so I quickly step in the rest of the way. I make my way toward the middle of the pool and walk to the edge, then rest my arms on the concrete ledge looking out over the city.
Miles swims up behind me and cages me in by pressing his chest against my back and placing his hands on either side of the ledge. He rests his head against mine as we both take in the view.
Its beautiful, I whisper.
Hes quiet.
We watch the city in silence for what seems like forever. Every now and then, hell cup his hands and bring water up to my shoulders to warm my chills away.
Have you always lived in San Francisco? I ask him. I turn so that my back is against the ledge now and Im facing him. He keeps his arms on either side of me and nods.
Close to it, he says, still looking at the city over my shoulder.
I want to ask him where, but I dont. I can tell by his body language that he doesnt want to talk about himself. He never wants to talk about himself.
Are you an only child? I ask, trying to see what I can get away with. Any brothers or sisters?
He looks me in the eyes now. His lips are pressed into a firm, agitated line. What are you doing, Tate? He doesnt ask it in a rude way, but theres no other way his question can come across.
Just making conversation, I say. My voice is soft and sounds offended.
I can think of a lot more things Id rather talk about than myself.
But thats all I want to know about, Miles.
I nod, understanding that although Im technically not breaking his rules, Im bending them. He doesnt feel comfortable with that.
I turn around and face the ledge again. Hes still in the same position, pressed against me, but its different now. Hes stiff. Guarded. Defensive.
I dont know anything about him. I dont know a single thing about his family, and hes already met mine. I dont know a single thing about his past, but hes slept in my childhood bed. I dont know what subjects I bring up or what actions I take that will cause him to close off, but Ive got nothing to hide from him.
He sees me for exactly who I am.
I dont see him at all.
I quickly bring a hand up and wipe away a tear that somehow just escaped down my cheek. The absolute last thing I want is for him to see me cry. As much as I know Im too far gone to continue treating this as casual sex, Im also too far gone to stop it. Im terrified to lose him for good, so I sell myself short and take what I can from him, even though I know I deserve better.
Miles places a hand on my shoulder and turns me around to face him. When I choose to stare down at the water instead, he hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him. I allow him to tilt my face up to his, but I dont make eye contact. I look up and to the right, attempting to blink back the tears.
Im sorry.
I dont even know what hes apologizing for. I dont even know if he knows what hes apologizing for. But we both know my tears have everything to do with him, so hes more than likely just apologizing for that simple reason alone. Because he knows hes incapable of giving me what I want.
He stops making me look at him and instead pulls me to his chest. I rest my ear against his heart, and he rests his chin on top of my head.
Do you think we should stop? he asks quietly. His voice is fearful, like hes hoping my answer is no, yet he feels compelled to ask me anyway.
No, I whisper.
He sighs heavily. It sounds like it could be a sigh of relief, but Im not sure. If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?
I shrug, because theres no way Im answering that with a yes until I hear his question first.
Are you still doing this with me because you think Ill change my mind? Because you think theres a chance Ill fall in love with you?
Thats the only reason Im still doing this, Miles.
I dont say that out loud, though. I dont say anything.
Because I cant, Tate. I just … His voice fades away, and he grows quiet. I analyze his words and the fact that he said I cant rather than I wont. I want to ask him why he cant. Is he scared? Is it because Im not right for him? Is he afraid hell break my heart? I dont ask him, because none of his answers to these questions would reassure me. None of these scenarios is reason enough to absolutely deny a heart happiness.
Which is why I dont question him, because I feel like maybe Im not prepared for the truth. Maybe Im underestimating whatever it was that happened in his past to make him this way. Because something happened. Something I more than likely couldnt relate to, even if I found out what it was. Something that stole the spirit right out of him, just like Cap said.