Page 36 of Burn It Down

I smile and look at him using the rearview mirror. “I’m not. I’m super happy. See?” I make a goofy face that makes him giggle and shake his head.

“You were grumpy all weekend.”

Leave it to kids to call you out. “I’m just tired, buddy. I’m not grumpy.”

“Do you miss Kansas City?”

I’m surprised by his question and then meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. “No. I’m happy we’re here. You seem happy here too.”

His little shoulder lifts, and he looks shy—like he doesn’t want to admit it. I park my car in the lot, then turn around to face him. “You know I want you to be happy, right? That’s all I want. You can tell me if you like it here.”

“I do.” And I know that’s the truth. He’s been thriving lately. “But...” He looks down at his lap, and I unbuckle my seatbelt, climbing out of the car and opening his door to kneel down so I can look into his eyes.

“But what, buddy?”

“I don’t want you sad.”

God, I’m an asshole.I’ve put this kid through so much already, and I don’t know how to make sure I don’t do any more damage. I think about Spencer and how if we did act on ourobvious attraction, if anyone found out, it could come back on my son. Thinking about him being bullied or teased like Spencer was sends a white-hot rage through me.

“I’m not sad. I like it here. I was just tired this weekend.” I almost promise him that my mood has nothing to do with where we live, but maybe that’s not true. I’m happy to be here—I missed it more than I thought I would—but the truth is this small town still has a lot of growing up to do.

And I’m bitter that it could make such a sweet, beautiful man fearful to be exactly who he is. “Promise?” He looks so hopeful.

“I do. I’m sorry I was grumpy.” He unbuckles and then wraps his arms around my neck.

“Okay, Dad.”

I grin. “How about ice cream after school to make up for such a sh—” I stop myself and look at Elijah, who’s looking far too pleased, knowing he almost got to call me out for cursing. “Bad weekend?”

“Yes! Dairy Queen?” His eyes light up as he grabs his backpack, and we walk up to the school.

Since that’s the only ice cream place in town, I nod and take his hand, walking with him. “Of course. Is there anything better than DQ?”

“Nope,” he says with all the certainty of a six-year-old talking about ice cream. It makes me smile as we approach, and when I spot Spencer walking up to the front door, an electric jolt goes through me. It makes me ache to touch him, but I remain polite and nod my head.

“Mr. Bell.”

“Hi, Mr. Mitchell,” he says casually, and I wonder how he pulls that off so well. He might have to teach me a few things because I feel like I could crawl out of my skin, just trying to get one more kiss. One more taste of those delicious lips.

And okay, I really do need to cool it.

“Hi, Elijah. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Nope,” Elijah says so quickly that Spencer looks a little taken aback as he smiles at my kid.

“No?” I hear the amusement in his question. “You look happy.”

“I am!” Elijah says. “We’re going to Dairy Queen after school to make up for a sh—bad weekend.”

I roll my eyes up to the sky and can’t hold back my smile at my kid totally calling me out. I hear Spencer laugh, and it’s so damn beautiful, I can’t help but meet his eyes. I see the playfulness there, but I think there’s something else when he realizes I’m looking at him—something simmering beneath the surface.

“Well, that should be fun,” he says, but his voice seems a little off, and I can’t help being relieved that he’s not as unaffected as he seems. Though I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

Whether we want each other or not isn’t really the problem. It’s that we can’t have it. He made that clear, and I want to respect that. He’s not overreacting or being difficult or playing hard to get. He’s fearful of what can happen, and that’s valid. I won’t ever hurt him again or let him be hurt. I know how important teaching is to him.

I don’t want to hurt Elijah either, no matter how inadvertently. I don’t know the kids in his grade yet, but I know the attitude of the town as a whole when I lived here wasn’t quite positive when it came to anything they deemeddifferentfrom their values.

But as I hug my son and tell Spencer and him goodbye, I can’t help but think about what could happen. I want to believe that same-sex couples can be safe in a small town. That people can change and grow. What Spencer told me about the teacher with the Pride flag being run out of town, though, doesn’t bode well.

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