Page 50 of I Knead You Tonight

I shake my head, my adrenaline losing steam fast, the exhaustion from the day and this pointless argument seeping in.

“I quit,” I say. “This argument, trying to understand you—all of it. I just quit. Tomorrow, Riker and I are going back to my apartment. I made enough cash today to cover what I owe the electric company. I’ll figure the rest out whenever.”

“You can’t leave. Your car isn’t ready yet.”

“I don’t care. I’ll take the bus you love so much.”

I turn on my heel, heading for the bedroom. I’ll be damned if I waste one more minute arguing with Winston and not sleeping in his insanely comfortable bed while I still can.

“Drew, wait.”

“Good night, Winston.”

I push the door open and stop in my tracks.

The first thing I notice is the music.

It’s soft and low, but it’s no lullaby.

It’s Slayer, and it’s playing from a lighted mobile swinging above a brand-new crib tucked into the corner of Winston’s bedroom.

“What the…”

I walk closer, running my hand around the dark wood, admiring the curves and cuts. It’s gorgeous. Exactly what I would have picked out.

There in the center, all swaddled up and snoring lightly, is Riker.

“Where did this come from?”

“This is what I had to do today.” Winston’s beside me, standing so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “This is why I missed work.”

“You…you got this for me?”

“Well, for Riker. I think you’re a bit too big for it.” He grins. “I just felt bad for him because he was sleeping in a drawer. Besides, this is something he can have for a while. It converts into a bed for when he gets older.”

“Winston…” It comes out as a whisper. “I…”

“Look.”

My eyes follow his hand as he reaches up to the mobile.

It’s not your typical farm or zoo animals hanging from strings.

No, this mobile is handmade.

And it’s made up of pictures of me and Riker…pictures I didn’t know were being taken. Us sleeping on the couch. Laughing on the back patio. Me feeding him, both of us half asleep. There’s even one of him crying and me covered in vomit.

I laugh. “Winston, these are—”

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the photos. It’s just when my mom died, I realized we didn’t have many pictures of her with us kids since she was always the one taking them. You don’t even have anyone to take them for you, to give you that option. So, I took the liberty of snapping a few candid ones.”

“Mind? Skulking around and taking photos of me and my baby is the sweetest, creepiest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He chuckles. “I thought so too.”

I look up at him. “Thank you for this, Winston. I can’t even tell you what it means to me. I…I’m sorry I was a bitch about you missing work today.”

His thumb brushes over my cheek, wiping away the tears I didn’t realize I was shedding.

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