"Why do you like them?"

"Because I love your neck, and these birds are like a homing beacon to me."

"That's why I got them."

"To draw me to your neck?"

She laughed and shook her head. "No. Because in olden days, sailors would follow birds to land. That's how they knew when they were coming close to sh.o.r.e. There's a legend about a sailor who found his way home by spotting sparrows. I just love the idea of finding your way home."

"When did you get this one?"

"Five years ago. Things were really rough with Sam then. It was his third or fourth rehab stint. I lost count. But I needed the reminder that I could find my own way home," she said, glad it was a topic she could freely discuss. Though they'd talked about their ink before, they'd never delved into it in great detail.

"I like that idea. I believe that's true. You can find your way home," he said softly, and she craned her neck to look at him. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and night had fallen. Dark shadows lined his face from the waning light in the windows; he'd only turned on one lamp.

"I believe it, too. And sometimes you have to rely on something outside of yourself to do that."

"Who or what did you rely on?"

"My mom, my sister, my son. Basically, my family," she said.

"I love that you're so close to them. It's the same with my brothers and sister," he said, and she tensed momentarily, wondering what would happen to that tight-knit foursome when they learned they were five.

His hand dropped to her hip, traveling across the cherry blossom tree that decorated her side up to her rib cage. That had hurt like h.e.l.l, given the location, but she loved the intricate design and symbolism of it. "Wait. I was wrong. This one is my favorite," he whispered, dusting a kiss across the blossoms. "It's beautiful and s.e.xy, like you."

"I had this one done in San Diego when I took Alex there a few years ago. The tattoo artist who did this gave me a similar design to the one he made for his wife. It's on her neck, and it's gorgeous. He said in j.a.pan it's a symbol for the preciousness of life. With tattoos, it represents femininity and beauty."

"Both are perfect."

He traveled across her body, landing on the script-y T on her wrist. "But this one truly is my favorite. t.i.tanium. You told me you got this after Sam died."

She nodded and swallowed. Her throat hitched with the memory. "Yes. My reminder to stay strong. Obviously, since that's what t.i.tanium is." She inched around, facing him, meeting his eyes. There were other truths she'd been sworn to protect, but her life, her past, and her pain were hers alone to share. She'd never told him all the details. And now, as they came closer together, the time seemed right. "He died in my arms."

His jaw dropped. "s.h.i.t, Elle. I'm so sorry. I knew he OD'd but didn't know the details."

"We weren't together. We hadn't been for a long time. But he showed up at my house, smashed, sick as a dog, white as a sheet. He stumbled inside, and I started to call my mom, since she's a nurse. But then he just started convulsing." The cruel memory flickered in her mind-Sam's eyes bugging out, his breath coming in spurts, his chest seizing up. She'd called 911 immediately then crouched on the floor, holding him, desperately waiting for the ambulance to show up. It was too late. The medics p.r.o.nounced him dead on the scene. "Alex saw the whole thing."

Pain sliced through her, and she winced from the memories.

Colin wrapped his arms around her. "That's such a terrible thing for him to see. I didn't watch my dad die, but I saw his body a few hours later, when my mom found him. I'll never forget the image. It must be so hard for Alex."

"It was," she said. Her voice broke and a tear slipped down her cheek.

He kissed it away.

"Colin," she said, her voice thin as air. "That's why I'm scared."

"I know. But that's not me. I won't be like that."

She nodded, though she was certain they both knew no one could make that guarantee. But it wasn't fair of her to ask either, especially since he'd already proven that he could rise above. He was the best man she knew. The kindest, smartest, most thoughtful gentleman she'd ever met. The guy who helped the boys at the center. Who drove them to tests. Who helped them study. Who inspired them in gaming strategy and tracked down history apps. He was the man who treated her like a queen.

She placed her finger on his lips. "You can't make that promise. And I can't ask you to. But..."

"But?"

The fear escalated, whipping through her. She hadn't come here tonight expecting to want so much more from him, but she couldn't walk out that door the way she came in. Every second she spent with him, naked or clothed, she became more connected, more linked to this man. This was no longer about s.e.x. It was about why the s.e.x between them was so spectacular. Because of how they felt.

She looped her hands in his hair and tried to push past that fear. "You make me feel things I've never felt."

"It's the same for me. I've never felt anything like this," he said, and the look in his eyes was one of pure joy. She wanted to remember it always. She clutched that emotion tighter now, because it was giving her the strength to say the next thing-to tell him she was ready to try.

She'd just parted her lips to speak when her phone buzzed.

f.u.c.k a duck.

"That might be Alex," she said, sitting up and reaching for her purse. "As you learned earlier, he texts a lot. Which is good. I want him to. But-"

She stopped speaking when she saw her mom was calling. Her mom never called when she was with Alex. Worry flooded her and she answered instantly. "Hey, Mom. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. I just dropped Alex off at home though, because the hospital called. They're short-staffed tonight, and I need to get to work an hour early to fill in. But he's totally fine by himself. He's not even playing video games. He's practicing his history facts. I think he wants you to quiz him tomorrow," her mom said.

Elle breathed easier, but still stood up and started hunting for her clothes. "Did you have a good time?"

"The best. We always have the best time. I beat him at bowling, but he beat me at some crazy motorcycle game. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I won't be there when you get home, but you still are under orders to have a good time."

Elle found her skirt and pulled it on. "I had an amazing time," she said, locking eyes with Colin, who'd tracked down a pair of gym shorts. He smiled at her as she slid into her shoes.

"Then you need to do it again."

"I do need to do it again," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "I love you, Mom. I'll see you soon. Are you coming to my match on Friday night?"

"As soon as my shift ends I'm there."

She said good-bye and turned to Colin. "I need to go. I know he's old enough to be home alone, but I don't feel right being here and doing what we've been doing and just leaving him on his own. You know?"

He nodded. "I get it."

She pulled on her tank top, wishing she could have finished what she'd started to say. But maybe this was the universe's way of slowing her down. Elle had been p.r.o.ne to rash decisions before. Perhaps, she needed to meditate more thoughtfully on what to say. Or maybe what she really needed to do was talk to her son. She'd been protecting him, keeping him safe from the kind of h.e.l.l he'd witnessed with his father. Rather than tell Colin she wanted to try with him, she should tell her son what Colin meant to her.

Then perhaps the three of them could hang out after the match.

"Hey," she said softly. "Would you like to come to the match, too? My mom will be there. Alex usually goes. It would be fun to have you there, too."

"Ryan comes back the night before. So he'll probably swing by and get Johnny Cash, and once he does I can come see you. Are you going to be wearing those super hot socks that go to here?" he asked, tapping her above the knee.

She laughed and nodded. "I will."

He adopted an intensely serious face. "So when I come up and say hi, I need to act like I don't have fantasies of f.u.c.king you while you're wearing nothing but those socks?"

A sweet rush of heat spread down her spine. "Yes. Pretend you're not thinking that."

"And that I'm not thinking how you'd look in them with these beautiful legs wrapped around my neck, Skater Girl?"

Oh dear lord. A gentle pulse beat between her legs, as she shouldered her purse. "Yes. That. Pretend you're not thinking that when I see you."

"I'll just pretend I'm one of your loyal volunteers at the center come out to support you."

She leaned in and kissed him. "Pretend for now. Maybe not much longer," she whispered, then turned on her heels to go.

That was all she could manage for the moment. She had so much more to say. She felt so much more in her heart.

Holy s.h.i.t. Kevin was right. Be honest. He'd told the woman he cared for her, and the result was better than he could have imagined.

Fine, fine. No commitments were made. No promises were exchanged. But they were breaking down walls. As he kissed her good night, he was more determined than ever to be the best man he could be.

For her. For her kid. For himself.

He wouldn't let anything get in the way.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Her heels clicked on the concrete steps as she walked two flights to her apartment. She slid the key into the latch, but there was no give. The door slipped open.

Alex appeared, a gotcha look in his brown eyes. He pointed at her. "The New Deal was a series of domestic programs started by President Franklin Roosevelt to help the United States recover from the Great Depression. Boom," he said, raising his arm in triumph. "Now, where were you tonight?"

Heat spread across her cheeks. She'd only said she was going out when she'd left earlier. She hadn't uttered the word date, and she certainly hadn't said with who. But her attire said it all.

"Out," she said sheepishly, slipping past him. He shut the door behind her, letting it close with a loud bang.

"Out. Is that his name? You were out with Out?"

She laughed as she headed to the kitchen and poured herself a gla.s.s of water. She took a long gulp then figured now was as good a time as any. Speaking the truth-at least the start of it-to Colin had been such a refreshing change from holding back. Perhaps telling her son would have a similar effect. Besides, it was the right way to handle this blossoming relationship.

She walked around to the stools at the counter and patted one. "Sit."

"Uh-oh," he said as he plopped down. "Am I in trouble?"

"No." She took the other stool and crossed her legs. Nerves beat a path through her chest, but she glanced down at her tattoo. Be strong. "Alex, I made a promise when your father died that I would never put us in that situation again."

He furrowed his brow. "What situation?"

"Me being involved with someone who's addicted."

"Is this the part where you tell me you met a hot meth head and you have bags of kitty litter in your car?"

She laughed softly and shook her head. "No. But major points for a good joke. Though you do know there is no such thing as a hot meth head, right?"

"Yeah. I know. Meth heads are nasty."

She crinkled her nose. "So gross," she said, then returned to the topic. "I've been seeing someone-"

"You're dating a junkie?"

"G.o.d, no."

"You said 'being involved with someone addicted.'"

She nodded. "Right. I know. Because that's the promise I made to you, and to myself, and to us. Our family. To not get involved with an addict. But, I want you to know I've been seeing someone who's a recovering addict."

"Oh," he said, his voice flat. She didn't know if that meant he didn't care or he was disappointed.

"And I think he's a really good guy," she added.

He arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Like my dad was a good guy?"

"No. Good guy like the real deal."

"Okay," he said, his tone light and easy now. "So what's the issue?"

"I want to know how you feel about that. He's been in recovery for eight years. He's a good, solid, strong man who hasn't relapsed."

He shot her a look as if she was nuts. "I don't get it, Mom. What's the problem? He sounds cool."

"He is cool. You know him."

She could see the gears turning in his head. They clicked, and he wagged his finger at her. "No way! You're dating Colin."

She couldn't help but grin. "How did you guess it was him?"

"Duh."

She jutted out her chin. "Duh, what?"

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't guess him," he said, laughing at her, clutching his belly and guffawing. Her son was actually guffawing.

She straightened her spine. "I'm sorry, but did you have radar installed?"

He stared at the ceiling as if he were deep in thought. "Hmm. Let's see. Could it be the way you flirt with him at the center?"