“Why are we wearing this again?” Amanda ghosts her hand at our matching jean shorts and plaid shirts. I scan the other girls in the house, thinking the answer is rather obvious. “Right, hoedown,” she points into the kitchen, “and it looks like a ho is about to go down.”

The girl Amanda indicates is on her tiptoes to align herself with her boyfriend’s staggering height. Even from behind, I can tell her chest is pressed against his. She leans in, wraps her hand around his neck, and presses her lips to his. In a matter of seconds, he grabs her arms and shoves her backward. When she drops to her feet, familiar dark hair appears. Over the top of her head, Graham’s shocked expression makes me gasp.

My eyes blur, and my heart pumps faster at the sight of his hands on someone else. “Graham?”

He hears my whisper and looks up, shame and embarrassment on his face. He should feel all those things. Tears form in the corners of my eyes as my whole world slips out from under me again. Bea’s hand lays limply on my arm. Her touch is the only force keeping my feet planted. I take a deep breath.

Graham races over to me and takes my hands in his. I’m unmoving. My eyes lock on everything and nothing at all.

“Listen to me, Kennedy, this is not what it looks like.”

Really? Because it looks like a mirror image of you and Amanda Junior year of high school.

I rip my hands from his and fold my arms across my chest. The girl I assume is Ashlee, smirks at me over Graham’s shoulder. A smug expression I’d be more than happy to wipe away with my fist. Lucky for her, violence isn’t my MO. Beside me, Amanda hums. If I ask her, she’ll do anything I need. Ashlee’s expression grows smug, making me realize this is what she wants. She’s the type of girl who finds happiness by bringing others down, and is never fully satisfied until she gets what she wants.

I shake the fog from my head. “You didn’t send me those texts, did you?” I whisper.

Graham’s brow furrows. “What texts?” He glances at Ashlee, a laugh quick on her tongue. When he turns back to me, the truth is in his eyes. “Kennedy, I swear, I didn’t send you any texts.”

“You didn’t send these then?” I ask. I show him the proof.

Sandy and Griffin push through the crowd we’ve conjured.

“She must have deleted them off my phone once she sent them to you. She had one part right.” Graham smiles, glancing up from the screen of my phone. “I do miss you, and I sure as hell didn’t want to come here without you. But that kiss, Kennedy …” He gestures behind him.

A hypnotizing melody plays from the speakers. Graham’s hand in mine, I lead him out of the kitchen to the makeshift dance floor. The space is crowded, but we squeeze into an open spot.

“Dance with me?” I whisper, ignoring his attempt to explain.

“Have I ever said no to a dance with you?” His hands wrap around my waist, and he tugs me close. His fingers graze the back pockets of my shorts and dip to the hem, tracing the cheeks of my ass. “I really hate you wearing these.”

“You love them, admit it.” I smirk, resting my head on his chest.

“I hate everyone looking at you,” he whispers in my ear.

“Welcome to my world, Graham Black. You can’t walk in a room without making a few wombs ache.” I smile up at him. “I know mine does when I see you.”

We sway together as if we’re between the sheets in his bedroom. The rhythm of the music makes me wish we were alone. His hand weaves through my hair above my ear, and we gaze at each other. Our desire thickens as my hands skim up and down his chest, burning my touch into every inch.

He dips his head to my ear. “Would it be wrong to say I’d gladly fuck you right here?”

I nibble on my lip, my chest rising and falling. When my eyes shut, his lips skim mine. As if the whole room disappears, he devours me. Between us, I reach down, and scrape my fingernails over the zipper on his jeans. From my light touch, he grows harder.

“You aren’t playing fair.” He hisses between his front teeth, grinding his hips against me.

My hand is trapped between us. My lips run the length of his jaw. His eyes shudder close, and I twirl in his arms, fitting my back to his front. My hands cup around his neck. Graham kisses a trail along my shoulder. My eyes spring open when his tongue runs behind my ear. The couples who were dancing around us have disappeared, leaving Graham and me alone on the dance floor. The song comes to an end. The heat of embarrassment creeps up my cheeks.

Graham leads me off the floor. I dig my heels in when we get to Ashlee. With Graham’s hand in mine, I square my shoulders, and jerk my head to the dance floor.

“That’s what you’re up against, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second, I don’t know what you are up to. If it was anyone else, I’m sure your tactics would work, but it’s not anyone else. It’s him and me, and I’m not above fighting for what’s mine.”

“I–” she mutters.

I stop her. “Be a lady. Walk away, and never, and. I. Mean. Never, try to come between us again. Girls like you don’t win against girls like me.”

Graham walks through the crowd so fast, he half-carries me so I can keep up. In the kitchen, his arms wrap around my middle, holding tight to my waist.

“You, defending us …” He slides my hand over his straining zipper

“You liked that, huh?” I smirk, my lust-fueled eyes on him.

“I thought you were going to punch her, Kennedy.” Rico dips his head between us and kisses my cheek.

“I should’ve.” Graham hands me a cup of cheap beer.

“The night’s still young,” Griffin says as he walks over to me with his arms open. “I’ve never liked her, but she’s Sandy’s best friend.”

“If Graham didn’t get along with Violet, I don’t know what I would do,” I offer my understanding.

“Where’s the little firecracker at tonight, anyway?” Rico asks. “Aren’t you two like a package deal or something?”

“Dan and she are going through some stuff. She stayed in the city to figure it all out,” I answer.

At the mention of our two best friends, Graham tucks me tight into his side.

“Want to get some fresh air?” he whispers in my ear. My eager nod makes him laugh. “Let’s head outside.”

The backyard is near empty, except for a couple whispering in the back corner. Graham ushers me to the woodpile opposite of the smoldering fire pit. His hands grip my waist and effortlessly lift me on the unsteady mountain.

“Can we talk about what you saw?” Graham places his hands on each side of me, trapping me in his arms.

“Do we have to?” I brush my hand over his hair.

“All depends.” He grins. “Are you silently cursing my name, or do you believe me when I say I didn’t kiss her back?”

“A little bit of both, Graham. I hate you put yourself in a situation where she got close enough to kiss you, but I do believe you had no ill intentions.” I stare at the small red shed beside us.

“You’re right.” He moves into my line of vision, forcing my gaze to his.

“I am?”

“When I came home from practice today, Ashlee was waiting in my bedroom. After I told her to leave, I jumped in the shower, but I guess I left my phone in my room, and she sent those texts. Instead of making sure she understood nothing will ever come between you and me, I gave her an opening to try to.”

“Girls like Ashlee are vindictive, Graham. It isn’t your fault.” I fist his shirt and tug him close. “Seeing her with you, for a split second, I thought I was losing you.”

“You can’t lose me.”

“I trust you, maybe fully for the first time in our entire relationship, so please don’t fuck it up.”

Graham kisses along my neck and whispers, “I won’t fuck this up, but you’re,” he watches me through hooded eyes, “for sure going to be fucked.” He massages up and down my thighs. His excited gaze dances over the desolate backyard. When they turn back to me, he smirks.

“Don’t even think about it.” I push his hands off my bare legs.

“You, all riled up, makes me want to bury myself inside you.”

My cheeks warm at his words. I scrutinize the area.

“No one will catch us, Ken. Come on.”

Our eyes lock, and no force in the world could make me argue with Graham. His hands wrap around my waist, and bring me back down to the ground. Expert fingers unbutton my shorts and slide down my zipper. A loud, eager moan escapes my clenched lips.

“What do you want?” he asks.

My fingers slip through his belt loops, and I bring our bodies flush together. “I think you know what I want.” I pop the button of his jeans.

Graham takes the denim on a slow ride down my legs, leaving my emerald boy shorts in place. The tickling sensation sets my blood on fire. As he stands, he smacks my ass. The sensation creates an unexpected frenzy.

My immediate reaction is to drop to my knees and drag his pants and boxer briefs over the taut muscles of his legs. The sight makes my throat constrict. A quick swipe of my tongue wets my lips and his tip. Graham’s fingers tug at my hair. He guides my head with his hands. My cheeks hollow as I increase my speed, and I moan when he hits the back of my throat.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Graham mummers, releasing his fingers from my hair. “Get up here.”

A hot smack on my ass sings out as I release him from the tight hold of my mouth. Once on my feet, Graham tears my underwear down my legs. His knees hit the ground, and his tongue laps at my core. I twitch and shake under his spectacular talent.

“I’ll ask you again, Kennedy, what do you want?”

“For you to fuck me silly in a stranger’s backyard, of course.” The boldness of my words makes me laugh.

Graham’s eyes light up, but darken seconds later. He hoists me up, and my legs wrap around him as he walks us backward. My spine hits the back of the shed. The chipped paint bites through my thin shirt.

“Fuck you silly, huh?” He balances me on his forearms, grabs a condom from his wallet, and slips it on.

In one quick thrust, he’s buried to the hilt. His movements are slow and teasing, bringing me to the edge, but leaving me wanting more. Doesn’t he know he doesn’t need to hold back?

“I’m not going to break.”

His control slips when my fingernails dig into his back, demanding he unleash the way I know he’s dreamt of. His hands tighten on my thighs and his breath grows choppy. He loses himself inside me, driving in and out until I scream his name in release.

*****

“What’s in your hair?” Bea asks. She brushes a few strands and showcases her findings.

Red paint chips.

“Yeah, Kennedy, what’s in your hair?” His arm wraps around my shoulder and he winks. “Mark, let’s go,” he shouts.

“Rico’s still in there.” Mark meets us on the front step, dragging Bea behind him.

Rick’s in the kitchen, sucking face with a rather busty brunette who can’t keep her hands off his ass. Instead of dragging him away, we’ve given him extra time to get whatever he’s getting from her. Time’s up.

I push past our group and duck my head into the kitchen. Rico has the girl pinned against the refrigerator, her hands buried in his hair.

“Rick.” My amusement laces his name together. “The first step is to remove your hands from the girl’s ass, and then take two steps back.”

Rick bangs his fist against the stainless steel and laughs. “I’ll be out in a second, Kennedy,” he says through clenched teeth. His eyes widen in a warning that only causes my eyes to roll. It doesn’t pack much of a punch as far as threats are concerned.

“We are leaving. Like now.” I turn to the girl. “I’m sure he’ll call you. Now, Rick, let’s go.”

“You know, I could’ve closed.” Rick nods at the girl thumbing her bottom lip as we walk to the door.

“I’m sure you could have, and I’m so proud of your panty dropping skills, but it’s two in the morning, and I’d like to get to bed.” I pat him on the back.

“Easy for you to say. You get to cuddle up next to him tonight.”

“Aww, Rick, do you want to cuddle with us tonight so you aren’t lonely?” I goad.

“If that scenario ends with your man chopping off my dick, I’ll take a hard pass.”

“Wise answer.” Graham groans behind me and I wink over my shoulder.

By the time we get home, the dash clock reads three in the morning. I stretch my neck from side to side. Graham brushes my hair from my neck and massages the deep muscles on our way to his room.

I toss my shirt on the floor. “Put me to bed,” I whisper, lifting my arms.

Graham fingers the hem of my tank top, and with slow precision, lifts it off my body, tossing it beside us.

My shorts glide down my legs. The sheets cool my hot skin as I tuck them around my body. Graham kicks off his shoes, and leaves his own pile of clothes on the floor. Every second he’s closer to being in this bed, every cell in my body fills with electricity.

“I’m sorry, for tonight, for everything.” As if he can’t get sexier, he crawls onto the bed, one knee at a time. His eyes devour me.

“Quit apologizing and come lay with me.” I tug his hand until he’s beside me. Resting my cheek against his chest, I throw a leg over his hips. His hand brushes up and down my thigh until I find the peaceful sleep only Graham’s quiet breaths can bring.

*****

A hand rocks my shoulders.

“Wake up, babe. We’ve got to get going.” My eyes are slow to open, but when they do, Graham grins down at me. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re always cute.” I pat his cheek.

“Cute is reserved for little brothers and the guys you’re trying to give the ‘let’s just be friends’ talk to.” He tickles my side, making me beg him to stop. My legs kick in protest until he’s straddling me. It’s then I realize he’s close. Closer than close. He’s practically a second skin.

“You’re definitely not cute.” I lift the hem of his shirt and run a single fingertip over the ridges of his stomach.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Bite your lip like you’re hungry while running your hands all over me.” Graham flips me onto my stomach and smacks my ass. “We don’t have time for shenanigans this morning.”

“There’s always time.” I lay my head on the pillow and inhale what’s left of Graham’s scent.

“I love your enthusiasm, but Ben’s waiting for us, and the kid appreciates punctuality.” His weight leaves my back. Graham changes into gym shorts and a t-shirt, zips his hoodie, and grins at me. “Hope you brought tennis shoes.” He pulls on his baseball cap and tosses my camera into my purse.

“Why, what are we doing?” My eyes widen.

“The batting cages.”

“Graham, I don’t do batting cages.”

“You do now. I’ll meet you downstairs.” With a quick wink, he’s gone.

Well, guess I’m going to the batting cages. I hurry to the bathroom, clean up and dress in record time, and run to the car.

Under strict orders from Betsy to bring him back in the same condition he’s in, or she’ll kill us both, we secure Ben in the backseat and leave.

“How’s that little asshole, Andrew, doing?” Graham eyes Ben in the rearview mirror. I elbow him. “What?” he mouths to me.

I jerk my head toward the backseat where a giggling Ben sits. I twist and make a funny face at Ben, making him laugh harder.

“Is Andrew being nicer to you, Ben?”

“No, but I’m fine with it.” His frail shoulders shrug. “He’s just jealous he’ll never be as cute as me.”

“I see Graham’s been instilling his arrogance in you.” I glance at Graham. His eyes focus on the road, a sliver of a smile begging to grow.

“He says I need to be confident, not cocky,” Ben whispers. Graham reaches behind him with a fist. Ben slams his against it.

“It worked with you, didn’t it?” Graham peers over at me.

When he’s unbuckled, Ben hops from the backseat and waits on the sidewalk, tapping his foot with anticipation. A bag slung over his shoulder, and a baseball hat sitting like perfection, Graham comes around the truck looking like every girl’s wet dream. His arm muscles strain as he pulls Ben in close to his side.

“You ready?”

“What if I can’t do it? What if I’ll never be as good as you?” His voice hiccups in the middle of his sentence. My heart constricts at the sound.

Graham drops the bag to the ground and kneels at Ben’s height. “So, what if you’ll never be as good as me? Maybe you’ll be better at soccer or playing the piano, but you’ll never know unless you try, kid.” He smiles at me. “Plus, on the bright side, you’ll always be better than Kennedy at baseball.”

“Hey.” I smack his chest as he stands. “That’s not fair.”

“But Kennedy’s better at dancing than us,” Ben adds.

“Exactly.” I high-five him.

“Are you so sure about that?” Graham does some weird dance/walk, twirling and spinning with more enthusiasm I expect to see from him when it comes to public dancing. His insane, erratic moves have gained us an audience. Ben and I are in stitches when he sweeps up his bag and walks by as if he’s just won a competition.

“He doesn’t really think he’s a good dancer, does he?” Ben tugs on my sleeve.

I ruffle his hair and send him to walk with Graham so I can capture images of the boy I love and the little boy who managed to make him grow up. Through the viewfinder, Graham grins down at Ben, swinging their joined hands between them. The lens of my camera records a moment in time, never to be replaced.

At the cage, Graham insists I go first, arming me in a baseball helmet and a bat to fend off the fast balls aimed in my direction. I stand at the plate, the bat shaking in my hand. The first ball flies by, hitting the rubber mat behind me.

“You can do this, baby. Keep your eyes on the ball,” Graham shouts. I whirl around. His hands hold tight to the fence. His lower abs are exposed. The sight causes my mouth to water. I gulp back any urge I have to run through the gate and wrap my legs around his waist. “Turn back around. The kid’s right here.”

He laughs and bets Ben I won’t hit one ball. Ben takes his offer, putting ice cream on the line.

“Ben, I got this. Chocolate chip cookie dough is all yours.” I swing at the next ball and hear a loud crack. “Holy sh-shoot.” A sweet pair of eyes looks at me. I hand the bat over to Graham. “Oh, ye of little faith.” I smack his butt. “Show us how it’s done, Mr. Black.”

“Prepare to be stunned and amazed at my athletic prowess.” He bows and turns to the machine, no helmet, and yanks out hit after hit.

“I’ll never be that good,” Ben whispers.

“Sure you will.”

Ben runs through the gate when Graham holds the bat out to him. After positioning Ben’s feet and teaching him how to hold the bat, Graham tells him to pick his pitch. Ben will know when it’s the right one. Ben swings his arms, and together, they hit the ball to the other end of the cage.

I jump up and down in celebration. Ben runs from the cage, Graham fast on his heels. His short arms wrap around my waist. I bend down and take him in my arms. Over his shoulder, I peer at the boy I love and allow myself to believe in a world where Graham and I will have a family together. What will our children look like? Will they have his undying devotion to those he loves? Will they find great joy in reading because of me?

*****

“How are you still eating that?” Graham asks, parking the car in the driveway.

“I like to savor my ice cream. Do you have a problem with that?” I answer, rounding the front of his SUV.

“I have something you can savor.” He pulls me in close.

“Seriously? We just got done hanging out with a seven-year-old, and you’re already thinking about diving between my legs?”

“Yes, I’m already thinking about this.” He cups me through my jeans. “And this.” A soft kiss lands where my t-shirt dips into a V.

“You two going to fuck each other in the driveway, or come inside and have dinner with us?” Rick shouts from the front porch.

Neither of us can contain our laughter.

“You should kick him out.” I walk backward, Graham’s hand tucked in mine.

“I heard you, Kennedy. I’m starting to believe you aren’t as sweet as everyone thinks.”

I hug Rick as I pass into the house.

Amanda and Bea are at the center island, drooling over the newest Men’s Health Magazine. I peek over Bea’s shoulder, and instantly, understand why. Mark sets the large table and Sandy turns her back to me and stares holes into Griffin’s temple. Her clear avoidance is understandable, but still grates on my last nerve. I haven’t done anything to deserve the silent treatment.

“Sandy, you got a second?” I nod to the living room.

Griffin mouths something to her before she follows me out of the kitchen. I prop my hip against the sofa, and she stands behind one of the high back chairs.

“I can’t stand the weirdness between us. I know Ashlee’s your best friend, and there’s a loyalty you have to uphold, but you need to understand that, for as long as I’m with Graham, she’s no longer welcome in this house.”

“I’ve spent our entire friendship protecting Ashlee, and for the first time, I can’t justify her actions, Kennedy. I’m struggling with that.”

“You’re a good friend, Sandy. Ignore me if you have to. I’d do the same thing for my friends.”

“I don’t need to ignore you, Kennedy. I’m embarrassed for her.”

“She’s not the first person to try to take Graham away. Hell, Amanda tried, but what outsiders don’t know is nothing can break us.”

“Kennedy, he’s lucky to have someone as strong as you in his corner.”

“Sometimes all you have is being strong.” I nod and smile, my lips tight.

When I step into the kitchen, everyone’s chatter ceases, and they turn to face me. Griffin’s eyes travel beyond me to Sandy.

“Y’all can stop talking shit now. We’ve hashed it out. Quit being weird.” Sandy nudges my side as she passes.

“What time you guys heading out tomorrow?” Mark asks, his eyes never leaving Bea.

“Afternoon-ish,” I answer, sitting on Graham’s lap. “What’s the plans for today?”

Their eyes drift to us for some grand idea, but Graham is ready to disappoint.

“I have a shit ton of studying to do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming, and I have huge tests coming up.”

“I do, too.” I twirl to face him, a huge smile on my face.

Graham trails his finger down my bare arm. “Did you bring your books?” I bite my lip and nod. “Want to go upstairs and study?” He kisses my neck, and goosebumps cover my skin.

Rico groans, slamming his hands down on the table. “How do you guys do that? You even make studying seem romantic. It’s fucking studying.”

“One day, a girl will make studying seem like a romantic gesture.” I stand, Graham’s hand in mine, and pull him to his feet. I bend down to whisper in Rick’s ear. “Plus, we quiz each other, and if we get the answer wrong, we have to remove an article of clothing.” Graham laughs and shrugs when Rick looks to him for confirmation.

“Can I study with you guys? I’m still struggling with my business ethics class.” Rick wiggles his eyebrows.

“Not a chance in hell.” Graham answers before I can.

Graham’s ass sways as he takes the stairs two at a time. By the time I mosey up to his room, he’s standing with his back to me. Completely naked. My jaw hits the floor, taking in his even more defined back muscles. Between training and games, he’s gotten his fair share of workouts. It shows. Oh god, it shows.

“What are you doing?” I giggle. “We’re supposed to be studying.” He turns, and I lift an eyebrow. “Is this a new thing? Studying in the buff?”

Fast, long strides bring him to me. Before I realize what he’s doing, he snatches me up and throws me on the bed. I fall into a fit of school girl giggles at his antics. He brushes the hair from my face.

“I figured … we could just get to the point.”

And we got to the point … twice.

*****

When we wake up, the usual dread is ever present. It’s the kind that aches in your bones when you have to say an unwanted goodbye. The idea of transferring to UConn has been running around in my head. The distance from NY to Connecticut is doable, but waking up next to him every morning would be wonderful. Even when he’s snoring.

“You sound like a freight train.” I shove on his shoulder.

“I’m exhausted. School and baseball are kicking my ass.” He snorts, wraps his arm around my neck, and pulls me in for a kiss.

“Do you know when the scout’s going to make it out?”

“Next month sometime.” He rubs between his eyebrows. “The season opener solidified his coming to see me. At least, Coach thinks so.”

“I still can’t believe I missed your first home game.” I grab my hair tie from the bedside table and put my hair into a messy bun.

“You’ll be there for plenty more first games.” Graham circles his finger through a loose strand near my ear.

“Like when you pitch for the first time in the major leagues.”

“Let’s not get out of hand, okay? I still have to impress the scouts, and I can’t even be drafted until next year.” Graham brushes off my comment.

“Quit acting as if it’s not going to happen.” I smack him, and he traps my hand against his chest. “Think positive.”

“I’m positive I’m going to miss you when you leave.” He kisses me on the cheek as I stand to get dressed.

“I do really miss you.” I slide on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater. His eyes never leave me. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Thinking about what?” He plasters himself against me.

“The distance between us.” I shrug. “What if I transferred?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” Graham jumps back like I bit him.

“Just hear me out.”

“No, I forbid it. You aren’t giving up your dream for me.”

“You gave up yours for me.”

“You’ve given up enough in the past, Ken. I won’t forgive you if you do something as stupid as transferring to UConn. What would you major in?”

“I don’t need to have a degree in visual arts to dance, Graham.” My fists pinch into my hips.

“Listen to me, if you do this, you will regret it.” His eyes focus on the ceiling.

“Won’t you regret giving up Georgia?”

“How could I regret it? I have you back in my life, and I’m still getting a scout to come. I pretty much am living the dream.” He grins. The laugh lines around his eyes scrunch together when he holds back his laugh.

At the sweet sentiment, I relent. How can you argue with logic like that? “Fine, I’ll forget the whole idea of transferring.”

“Thank you.” Graham steps into a pair of sweatpants.

“For now,” I clarify.

Graham makes a quick snap in my direction, chasing me around his room. I jump onto the bed and bounce around, teasing him.

“Promise me,” he demands.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “I promise.”

“No, Kennedy, say it.”

“Jesus, okay. I promise I won’t transfer behind your back. You do understand though, if I did, we’d be able to sleep in the same bed every night, have breakfast together, and you could touch these whenever you want.” I lift my shirt and bra to cover my face. A crazed giggle erupts from my mouth.

My view’s blocked by the cotton material, but I hear his loud groan. My legs are swept up from underneath me and I bounce down onto the bed.

“You can transfer if you want,” Graham jokes.

“Too late. You made up your mind. I’ll stay in lonely New York, just me and my pink vibrator.” I run my tongue on the inside of my cheek, smirking at him before I duck out his bedroom door and sneak down the stairs.

Rick is in the kitchen, slaving over the stove.

“Do you ever stop cooking?” I lean over his shoulder.

“When you girls are in town, no, I don’t. I refuse to let you eat a bowl of cereal.” He kisses my cheek.

“Can I help?” He nods his head to the eggs. “Scrambled?”

“Yeah. Amanda’s demanding.”

“You guys aren’t, are you?” I question, ready to waltz upstairs and kick her ass. She and my brother aren’t anything serious, but they spend an awful lot of time on the phone.

“I may be an asshole, but I would never overstep your brother. She slept in the bed. I slept on the floor.”

“All the time I’ve spent in this house, and I feel like I don’t really know you.”

“There isn’t much to know. I grew up in New Jersey, typical Italian family. My parents are divorced. Two brothers and one little sister. I played every sport you can imagine growing up, but fell in love with baseball freshman year of high school. Prom King. No serious girlfriends.”

I smile at his blanketed description of himself. “What scares you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I’m most scared of never being good enough. Dance is the one thing I know I’m good at, but am I good enough?” I ask the rhetorical question and shrug. “Oh, and I’m scared to death of white vans. Like the conversion painter vans.”

Rick gives me a sideways glance and turns back to the French toast in front of him. The spatula pats the side of the griddle. His head bobs up and down in the slightest of motions. Perhaps he’s building the courage to say what he needs out loud.

“Never finding someone to love me.” He takes a deep breath. “My parents had a tumultuous marriage. A couple divorces later to each other, and they finally figured out they couldn’t make it work. I always appreciated how hard they tried for me and my siblings, but I think, in the end, they did more harm than good.” He hands me a plate full of the most delicious smelling French toast. His eyes are like magnets to my own. “So, I guess my biggest fear is I don’t know what love looks like. I’ve never had a good example.”

I take a seat at the island, thinking of what to say, while Rick prepares the rest of breakfast.

“Rick, someday, someone is going to come along and knock you off your feet. You won’t expect it. You may not even want it at that point in your life, but the world doesn’t care if you aren’t prepared. There are probably millions of girls in this world you could fall in love with, but you sure as hell aren’t going to find her by acting like a little bitch who’s hiding away out of fear.”

“Did you just call me a little bitch?” Rick stops pouring the syrup.

A series of claps sing out from the doorway.

“I forgot to warn you. Don’t get into deep conversation with Kennedy. She’ll school the fuck out of you.” Graham grins ear to ear.

“How long were you listening?” Rico asks.

“Long enough.” Graham clutches his chest. “Open your heart to the opportunity to love, Rico, and the universe will answer.” His overdramatic display has me rolling my eyes.

“Be nice.” I poke Graham as he steals a piece of bacon.

After breakfast, the girls and I load the car, deciding to leave earlier than we originally anticipated. Amanda has to cover the evening shift for someone who called in sick.

Graham and I make our goodbye quick. When we know we’ll be together as soon as we get the chance, there’s no reason to draw out the inevitable. The weird thing about Graham and me is, for the first time in a very long time, we aren’t worried. It’s as though we’re being rewarded, and everything is in its rightful place in our lives.

“Before we leave, stop off at the orphanage. I have something to give to Ben,” I say.

As we park, I pull out the box wrapped in Batman paper. When I saw it in the drug store, it reminded me of the first day I met Ben.

“Wait here. I won’t be long.”

Betty answers when I ring the doorbell. “Hey, sweetie. I didn’t know Graham was coming by today.”

“He’ll be by later, but I’m on my way out of town and wanted to see Ben before I left,” I explain, walking past her as she locks the door behind us.

“He’s probably working on his homework.” She smiles at the present in my hand. “Go on in. He’ll be happy to see you. You and Graham are the only things he ever talks about some days.”

Ben is exactly where Betty said he would be. A pencil in his left hand, his head on his other, and a book on the table.

“Hey, buddy.” I slip into the seat next to him. His eyes fall to the package, then search the space behind us. “He’s not with me. Graham will be over later, I’m sure.”

“You came without him?” he asks, his voice shaky and unsure.

“Well, I was thinking the other day. When Graham and I were apart, I sometimes found myself missing him, so I’d look at old pictures.”

“Why were you apart? Didn’t you love each other?” The innocence of his question is maddening.

“Sometimes it’s not always that easy, but anyway.” I push the Batman covered gift to him. He rips it open and flips through the pages. “That way, when you miss Graham, you have something to remind you of him.”

Ben’s tiny fingers trace over the pictures in the scrapbook. His movement comes to a complete stop, telling me exactly what page he’s on. I have no doubt he’s reached the picture. The home takes great care to preserve anything from these kids’ past before coming here, and Betty has been gracious enough to give me a photo of Ben’s mother.

“I miss her.” He rests his head on my bicep.

“It’s okay to miss people.” My arm dips under his chin and circles above his head. “But now, when you’re overwhelmed, flip through the pages. You’ll find comfort in them.” My fingers rub soothing strokes through his curly mane. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

I kiss Ben on the top of the head, and without waiting for a response, walk to the door where Betty waits. Ben looks through the pages, running his fingers across every picture.

“What you did for him …” Betty begins to say. Tears flood her eyes.

“He means everything to Graham, which means he means everything to me. I don’t want him to be alone here. I know you guys do your best, but it’s not the same as what he deserves.”

She nods her head slowly. “You know, you’d be a great candidate for foster care.” Betty shrugs and grins at me.

The seed she’s planted in my head is quick to grow.