Chapter 7 Why Am I Thinking About a Boy My Son’s Age?

Evelyn:

Night settled over the house while dinner cooked around me. Rice in the cooker. Meat sizzling in the pan while the buffalo sauce thickened slowly.

Adrian was still stuck in my head.

What was wrong with me?

“Seriously, Evelyn?” I muttered under my breath. “You’re thinking about a boy your son’s age now?”

A little smile almost slipped out anyway when his face crossed my mind again.

Those eyes.

The way he looked at me earlier like he meant every single word coming out of his mouth.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, grabbing a glass of water. “Why am I acting like some teenager?”

This was ridiculous.

I had a grown son. A career. Responsibilities.

Meanwhile, my brain kept replaying Adrian leaning against the couch looking all tall and unfairly attractive for no reason.

Damn it.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Those arms.

No. Nope.

“That doesn’t mean you like him,” I told myself quickly while stirring the sauce. “It just means you still have eyes.”

Still sounded pathetic.

Maybe this really was some weird midlife crisis.

Maybe I’d finally lost it.

The knife moved through the meat while my thoughts wandered right back to him again. The way he slowly licked cream from his thumb earlier.

“Ow! damn it!”

Pain shot through my finger.

A thin line of blood appeared instantly.

“Great. Just great.”

Cold water rushed over my hand while I stood there staring at the sink.

Couldn’t even focus long enough to cook dinner properly anymore.

After wrapping my finger with a bandage, I forced myself back to the counter and finished everything as fast as possible.

Mashed potatoes.

Meat.

Sauce.

Then noodles too because Marcus loved them more than actual food at this point.

“Good thing there’s still groceries left,” I mumbled. “Barely.”

Footsteps came running downstairs a minute later.

Marcus appeared looking way too happy for someone who took forty years in the shower.

“Finally done?” I asked.

“That shower saved my life, Mom.” He grinned. “Am I late?”

“As usual.”

“Wow. Haters everywhere.”

That made me laugh a little.

“Come eat before I pass out from exhaustion.”

We sat down together while Marcus stared at the food dramatically.

“Tomorrow’s my first day at college and you made all this? Damn. I’m blessed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just eat.”

The second he took a bite, his eyes widened.

“This is so good.”

“Told you.”

Dinner stayed quiet for a minute except for Marcus inhaling noodles as he’d never eaten before.

Then his expression changed a little.

“Mom… I feel like Adrian’s actually kinda sad.”

That caught my attention immediately.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged while chewing. “Something about him feels off. Like… lonely, maybe.”

For some reason, that made my chest tighten.

“The neighbor warned me about him earlier,” I admitted. “Said he’s trouble.”

Marcus snorted softly. “He doesn’t seem bad.”

“No. He doesn’t.”

And honestly, that was the problem.

The more I looked at him, the less I believed any of those warnings.

Sure, he looked rough around the edges. Tattoos. Piercings. That whole rebellious attitude.

Still…

There was sadness in his eyes too.

“He told me he lives alone,” Marcus said.

My fork paused halfway up.

“You didn’t ask him anything personal, right?”

“Huh? No.” Marcus looked confused. “He just mentioned it while apologizing for his messy house.”

“Oh.”

Relief slipped through me way too fast.

“Finish eating.”

“Bossy.”

“Marcus.”

“Fine. Fine, I’m eating.”

A laugh escaped me before I pointed my fork at him.

“And no trouble tomorrow.”

“I’ll behave.”

That answer came too quickly.

Suspicious.

Then he cleared his throat awkwardly. “But, uh… don’t tell people at college we’re related.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Mom.” He gave me a look. “You’re literally a professor.”

Understanding hit immediately.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You think people will say I favor you.”

“Exactly.”

I stared at him for a second. “Where do you even learn these things?”

Marcus grinned proudly. “I know stuff.”

God. Seriously.

“Fine. But the principal already knows.”

“That’s okay.”

We kept talking through dinner after that. Random things mostly.

Then Adrian’s name came up again somehow.

“I’m glad you met him,” I admitted while wiping my mouth with a napkin. “At least you won’t be alone tomorrow.”

“Same. He’s cool.”

Cool.

That word replayed in my head longer than it should’ve.

A deep sigh escaped me as I stood from the table.

“I’m exhausted. I’m taking a shower. Wash the dishes.”

Marcus groaned dramatically. “Child labor.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Maybe.”

I pinched his cheek on the way past him.

“Mom,” he complained instantly, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

Still laughing quietly, I headed upstairs while rubbing the soreness from my neck.

God… what a long day.

Then Adrian’s face flashed through my mind again out of nowhere.

I stopped halfway down the hallway.

“If I were ten years younger,” I murmured with a quiet laugh, “that boy wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Silence.

Then embarrassment hit me all at once.

“What am I even saying?”

A shower. That’s what I needed.

Nothing else.

Hot water should’ve relaxed me, but my brain kept going right back to him anyway.

The neighbor’s warning.

Adrian’s eyes.

His voice.

The way he looked at me like..

Nope.

Not thinking about that.

A few minutes later, I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped back into the bedroom.

Then remembered the unpacked boxes.

“Right. My clothes.”

I walked over distractedly before freezing.

Something was missing.

I stared down at the open box again.

Then again.

“No… I put it here.”

Hands moved through the clothes faster while panic slowly crept in.

Where the hell did it go?

That’s when movement outside the window caught my attention.

And everything inside me stopped.

Adrian stood across from me by his window.

Shirtless.

A glass of whiskey rested lazily in one hand while his eyes stayed locked on me without shame.

God.

He looked nothing like a boy right then.

Messy dark hair falling over his forehead. Tattoos running down his arm. Broad chest. That stupid dangerous look in his eyes.

Heat rushed straight into my face.

The distance between our windows suddenly felt way too small.

His gaze moved slowly over my body wrapped in nothing but a towel, and my grip tightened instantly around the fabric.

Why wasn’t I moving?

Why was I just standing there staring back at him?

The glass touched his lips again while his eyes never left mine.

And God help me… my heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt.

Then he finished the drink in one swallow.

Eyes still locked on me like he knew exactly what he was doing.

My body reacted before my brain finally caught up.

“Oh shit!”

I rushed forward and yanked the curtains shut.

But right before they closed completely, I caught it.

That tiny smile on his face.

God. That was embarrassing.