“Mom, is Roy in dere with you?”
“Roy?” Rocco asked quietly, his face scrunched up as he looked around the house, like there was going to be another man in the living room with us he hadn’t noticed before. What he did notice, however, was the room full of toys he had previously been too distracted to register.“Shit.”
“Just a second, bug,” I called, catching sight of the stuffed tiger on the arm of the couch. Pushing past a still stunned Rocco, I snagged the toy and turned back to the door, seeing Rocco still staring at me.
“Mom?” he asked, and I sighed. “You’re a mom?”
“Yup,” I said casually, holding up the tiger. “Going on six years now.”
Opening up the door, I smiled down at Jasper, holding the toy out for him.
“Roy!” he shouted excitedly, snatching it from me and holding it close. “Thanks, Mommy.”
“No problem, little man,” I said, running my hand over the top of his head, mussing up his blond hair. Turning back to Rocco, I smiled tentatively.
I guessed it was now or never.
“Hey, Jasper? I want you to meet a friend of mine.” Jasper looked up, suddenly shy, as he crowded closer to me. “This is Rocco. Rocco? This is my son, Jasper.”
I waited. I hoped he wouldn’t disappoint me, prayed he would man up and do what I needed a man to do in this situation.
But in the end, my hopes were wasted.
“I, uh...I gotta go,” was all he said before he raced past me and down to his car.
I should have fucking known.
Chapter twenty-five
Rocco
Idroveallnight.
I drove so long, I had to stop for gas, which is not surprising, given the way my baby’s engine guzzled that shit like it was the finest champagne. I spent hours in that car, windows down, as the cool night air blew my thoughts around like dust and I replayed the events of the evening over and over.
Mia was—shit, she was everything.
I’d had a lot of sex. I mean, come on. Of course, I had.
I’d even have gone as far as to say that I’d had a lot ofgreatsex.
But sex with Mia? That shit was on a whole other level.
I mean, I couldn’t even put my finger on what it was, exactly. Maybe the fact that she had been so completely genuine. I knew that not a single one of her reactions were contrived or fake. Those incredible noises she made as we fucked, those had been one hundred percent authentic, and they were all for me.
Mia didn’t have some agenda, something she wanted from me that she thought fucking me would get her.
No, if anything, it was the complete opposite. If Mia had sex with me, it was because that was what she wanted.
But was thatallshe wanted?
I wasn’t sure. Because a woman like Mia?
She deserved all the things.
The goodnight kisses and morning coffee on the porch. She deserved the date nights and the hand holding and the lovey-dovey shit that couples did, and I was just not sure I was the kind of man who could give that to her, even if I wanted to.
And did I want to?