Her smile widened a bit.
“Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” she asked.
She was always asking. Sometimes, I would come by. Most of the time, I opted to stay in my place, away from all the noise.
“We’ll see.”
She nodded as if she had been expecting my answer.
“Okay. Well, I hope you do. You know, Ryker always misses his Uncle Mickey when he leaves.” When I didn’t respond, Ryleigh continued, looking around me at Roman. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay?”
Even without looking at him, I could tell his eyes had darkened, probably wanting to join her.
I might have offered to babysit Ryker for a bit, but the last thing I wanted to do was babysit my nephew so his parents could get in a quick one.
I almost grimaced at the thought when Roman replied, “All right, baby. I’ll watch Ryker.”
She shot him a mischievous smile, a more tamed one to me, and walked away.
It had been over three years since Roman was released from prison after serving two years of his twenty-year sentence—because of Ryleigh.
Three years since my brother saw the girl for the first time and got obsessed. They still looked at each other full of love.
Roman and I didn’t exactly have model parents.
It wasn’t like we had someone to show us what love looked like, but I was happy for him, despite my initial fears that she might be his downfall and that I wouldn’t be able to protect him from that.
I cupped the back of Ryker’s head and turned back to Roman, who was watching us intently.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I let one eyebrow raise at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re usually only here early in the morning when something bad happens.”
I blinked, but my expression didn’t change.
Roman had always been way more astute than anyone gave him credit for.
It was a good trait to have when we did the shit we did, but I wished he wasn’t so astute when it came to me.
“I’m fine. Just wanted to visit my favorite person in the world.”
Ryker slapped my chest to get my attention and babbled about something, slobber dripping down his chin.
I only understood about half of what he was saying. I looked down at his gray eyes—his mom’s eyes—small nose, and thick brown hair.
Ryker looked just like Roman did when he was this age.
There was no doubt in anybody's mind that this kid was Roman’s, even down to his rowdy personality, which I was sure would be trouble for his mom later on.
I didn’t miss the past, but looking at Ryker reminded me of all the times I had with Roman when we were little. At a time when I had been his whole world.
And perhaps that was why I was feeling so disjointed.
I missed being needed like that.
I petted Ryker’s chubby cheek with the back of my finger, watching the way his innocent eyes lit up, watching me. I wasn’t the psycho everyone called me in his eyes.