Page 21 of The Love Comeback
“Me too,” I admit with a wistful smile. “Thingswere so much simpler back then.”
I briefly glance at him, noticing the hint of nostalgia in his eyes as well. It’s as if we’re both caught in a moment of shared history, a past that still lingers between us despite all the years that have gone by.
As we turn onto my street, I feel a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. Part of me can’t wait to get away from this confusing proximity to Kade, but another part—a part I’m trying desperately to ignore—wishes the drive could last a little longer.
Kade pulls into my driveway and puts the truck in park. The headlights illuminate the modest rental I now call home. It’s nothing special—just a small three-bedroom with chipping paint and a slightly overgrown lawn—but the rent is reasonable, and it’s close to school. That’s all that matters.
“Well,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt, “thanks for the ride. And for inviting us tonight. It was—”
“Let me help you with him,” Kade interrupts, nodding toward the backseat where Colton remains fast asleep.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I say quickly. “I can wake him up.”
“He’s exhausted,” Kade points out. “And I’m right here. It’s no trouble.”
I hesitate, my instinct to refuse his help warring with practicality.
“Okay,” I relent. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Kade says, already opening his door and steppingout into the night.
I grab my purse and head toward my front porch, fishing for my keys as Kade opens the back door of his truck. I watch as he gently unbuckles Colton’s seatbelt and scoops him up with ease. Colton doesn’t even stir, just instinctively wraps his arms around Kade’s neck and nestles his head against his shoulder.
Something squeezes in my chest at the sight.
I push it away and focus on unlocking the front door. When I finally get it open, I step aside to let Kade carry Colton in.
“Sorry about the mess,” I mutter as Kade carefully maneuvers through the entryway, stepping around a stack of moving boxes. “We’re still kind of in transition.”
“No worries,” Kade says, his voice low to avoid waking Colton. “Which way to his room?”
“Second door down the hallway, on the right,” I direct, following close behind.
The hallway is narrow, forcing us to walk almost single file. I’m acutely aware of Kade’s broad shoulders, how they nearly fill the space, how I have to be careful not to bump into him as he carries Colton. It’s a strange intimacy, one I wasn’t prepared for when I agreed to let him help.
Kade pauses at Colton’s door, waiting for me to open it. When I do, the soft glow from his nightlight spills into the hallway, illuminating his bedroom—the only truly finished room in the house. Hockey posters cover the wall, and his bedspread features cartoon T. rexes playing ice hockey. It would be comical if it weren’t so endearing.
Kade steps carefully over a scattering of Legos on the floor and gently lays Colton down on his bed. He stirs slightlybut doesn’t wake, even as I slip off his shoes and pull his comforter over him.
“He sleeps like a rock,” Kade whispers, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Yeah,” I agree, brushing Colton’s hair from his forehead and kissing his cheek. “He could sleep through a fire alarm, I think,” I whisper as we back out of the room together.
I pull the door almost closed, leaving it open just a crack the way Colton likes it. Then we’re standing in the hallway,
“Thanks for your help,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself, the awkwardness between us suddenly amplified by the quietness of the house. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was no problem,” Kade says before following me into the living room, his eyes scanning the chaos around us.
“Ignore my mess.” I let out a self-conscious laugh. “Between work, visiting my mom, and Colton’s activities … I unpack a box or two when I can, but…”
“It’s a lot to handle on your own,” he finishes for me.
I shrug, not wanting to admit how overwhelmed I sometimes feel. “We get by.”
Kade shifts his weight, hands sliding into his pockets. “Look, I meant what I said earlier. I’m happy to help out, if you want. I’m pretty handy, too. So if you need any furniture built or—”
“Kade, you’re already doing skating lessons,” I protest. “I can’t ask you to—”
