Jagged

laughing and staring at me.

“You’re crazy,” he declared, still laughing.

“That’s what Rocky shouts after his big fight against Apollo Creed. Adrian is his woman,” I told him.

“Is he a cage fighter?”

I shook my head in mock disgust, leaned down to him, and allowed myself to do what I’d wanted to do during both of the dinners Ham and I had shared with him and Aunt Wilona at her house.

I ran my hand over his hair and cupped the back of his head, dipping my face close. “Rocky is a movie. A great movie. One of the best movies of all time. And, if you want, you can come over, I’ll pour a bunch of stuff in bowls, all of it not good for us, and we’ll eat and watch Rocky Balboa be awesome.”

“That’d be cool,” he said quietly, his eyes having changed. He looked somewhat uncertain but at the same time not uncomfortable and also pleased.

It was not lost on me in the time we’d shared with him and Aunt Wilona that she was affectionate with Zander. She wasn’t fawning and he was a growing boy so she didn’t get into his space being too motherly. That didn’t mean he didn’t get many indications in a variety of ways that he was loved.

But he’d never had one like this from me.

And, if I was reading him right, he liked it.

So I pushed it, lifted up, kissed the top of his head, and then moved quickly away so as not to freak him out.

My eyes swept through the house as I did but they stopped on Ham, who was across the room, beer in hand, talking to Latrell and Jeff, but his eyes were locked on me.

And his mouth was smiling.

I smiled back and then turned my attention to dumping stuff that was not good for anyone into bowls in order to replenish the generous but swiftly disappearing food supply.

“Are all these people really my mom’s friends?”

These words were asked by Zander but his voice was quiet and strange.

I looked down to him to see the eggs done, the pastry bag still in his hand, but he was looking over the bar into the house that was a crush of people, rock music on low drowned out by happy chatter with spurts of laughter.

“Yep,” I answered.

“She knew a lot of people,” Zander noted and I again got close to him but not too close.

Conversationally, I said, “Yeah, she did. She knew a lot of people but these aren’t just people she knew. These are her friends.”

He set the pastry bag aside, tipped his head to look up at me, and remarked, “She had a lot of friends.”

I went down in a mini-crouch so we could be eye-to-eye and told him, “Your mom was funny. She liked people and showed it. She was generous and she’d do just about anything for anybody. And people liked her because of all that. If you’re like that, you get a lot of friends and that’s what she did.”

Suddenly, his face changed again, definitely uncertainty and something I didn’t get until he spoke.

“I’m scared to go out there,” he whispered.

Surprised at this admission, I asked, “Why?”

“Because they liked her so much. What if they don’t like me?”

My heart squeezed and it dawned on me why, since Aunt Wilona and Zander arrived half an hour ago, he’d stuck to her or me like glue.

He was nervous and he wanted his mom’s friends to like him.

Carefully, I asked, “Why wouldn’t you think they would like you?”

“’Cause you said I’m not like her. They’ll be expectin’ me to be like her.”

I shook my head even as I smiled.

“You don’t look like her,” I clarified. “But you told me you have a ton of friends. You’re funny. You’re open.” I got closer and dipped my voice low. “As far as I can see, you’re just like her.”

When his eyes lit with hope, my heart squeezed again and I lifted a hand to curl my fingers around the side of his neck. Feeling the warmth of his skin, his pulse beating against my palm, for some reason I fell in love with him more just because he was so… very… real.

“You go out there, they’ll love you,” I promised. “But I’ll stick close anyway.”

He tipped his head to the side but did it careful not to break contact with my hand.

Yes, he didn’t mind affection from me and, knowing that, I sent my thanks to the heavens.

“You sure?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Okay,” he murmured.

I gave him a grin and a squeeze and left it at that, even though I wanted to kiss his hair again. I’d had enough for now and I didn’t want to push it.

I straightened and I did it just in time to hear the loud thud of a motorcycle helmet hitting the countertop.

Both Zander and I turned our eyes to Ham, who was now standing with us in the kitchen but his eyes were on Zander. Ham had gone to Carnal to buy Zander the helmet just the day before.

“Try that on for size, kid,” he invited.

Zander’s head whipped to the helmet, then back to Ham.

“No way!” he yelled.

“Way,” Ham replied.

“This is so cool!” Zander shouted.

His hands darted out to the helmet and my heart didn’t squeeze at Ham’s actions.

It warmed.

So I gave him a huge smile.

Ham’s eyes took in my mouth and his lips twitched.

Zander pulled the helmet on then tipped his head back to Ham. Lifting his hand to the kick-ass visor, he pushed it up.

“Does it fit?” he asked.

Ham crouched in front of Zander, put his hands to the helmet, moved Zander’s head around, checked for snugness, then gave the top of the helmet a mild smack before he answered, “Yep.”

“Cool,” Zander breathed.

“We got good weather, kid. You want a ride?”

“Really?” Zander asked, rocking up to his toes in excitement.

“Sure,” Ham replied.

“Totally!” he shouted but then dashed around Ham, still yelling, “Nona! Nona! Look what Uncle Reece got me!” He gestured to the helmet. “He’s takin’ me for a ride!”

Aunt Wilona’s head whipped around at Zander’s shouting. She spied the helmet, her face went straight to alarmed before she smoothed it out and forced a smile at Zander.

“I’ll have a word,” Ham murmured to me. “Put her at ease. We’ll go easy.”

“Okay, darlin’,” I murmured back.

Ham moved in, touched his mouth to mine, and, when he lifted up, I smiled at him again.

This time Ham gifted me with a smile back.

Then he moved out of the kitchen and toward Zander and Aunt Wilona.

I put the devilled eggs and bowls of snacks out and me and a variety of other people followed Ham, Zander, and Aunt Wilona out the front door. We stood in a group and watched Ham throw a leg over his vintage Harley that he’d obviously moved out of the garage for this purpose earlier and unbeknownst to me. Then we watched him instruct Zander how to get on behind him.

I got close, as did Aunt Wilona, and when we did, we heard Ham order, “You hold on to me tight and don’t let go for any reason. You with me?”