As I read it again a room opened inside me, turning emptiness to possibility, solitude to potential. A room opened inside me, and I wanted to fill it with Rhys. I wanted to choose. I wanted, for the first time in my grungy fucking life, to choose someone and make them mine. And it terrified me.
“Oh fuck,” I said to no one. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
Chapter 1
ONE YEAR AND EIGHT MONTHS LATER
I shuffled the papers, files, and leaky pens on my desk into a semblance of order, and swept a busted phone charger and an apple core into the garbage, along with the cheesy dollar-store smiley face eraser my last client had left. I appreciated the gesture, but I didn’t want that thing grinning up at me when I got back to work.
Sun streamed through the cracks in the blinds and the AC unit in the window chugged valiantly, to little effect. Sweat along my spine and under my arms dampened my shirt and my hair had been a riot of curls all summer. I wiped hopelessly at my forehead with the heel of my hand.
This was August at Mariposa. This was August in New York.
“Boy, you look like you just ran a mile,” a warm voice said from my doorway.
“Hey, Imari.” I smiled at her.
Imari had run Mariposa since it was a group of three volunteers circulating information to a few foster programs, eight years ago. Now, it was a full-time nonprofit that worked with clients all across the city to provide resources for youth during and after their transition out of the foster system. We had ten full-time staff and a number of volunteers, and ran programming at two satellite offices onsite in foster care facilities to work with youth before they aged out of the system.
Imari had also been the one to hire me when most people would’ve told me to fuck off. I was never sure what it was about me glaring and telling her to shove it that made her think, Potential employee of the month. All I know is that after I snarled that her suggestion to list references on my résumé was unrealistic because who the hell did she think paid more than five seconds’ attention to foster kids in public schools, she narrowed her eyes at me, and said, Hmm. Then she told me to come to this address the next day because she thought I could be useful.
That was almost two years ago, now, and I was pretty sure working at Mariposa had saved my life. At least, it had saved the life I wanted to have from the one I’d expected, although it had been rough in the beginning.
Imari held out a client file to me.
“This is Noé Caldera. Eighteen, mad as hell, and a pain in the ass.” As I took the file from her she bopped me on the knuckles and winked before handing it over. “Sound familiar?”
I mmhmmed flatly and opened the file to see a glaring boy whose combination of hostility and fear were as familiar as breathing. I’d seen it in the faces of hundreds of boys I’d been with at St. Jerome’s. Hell, I’d seen it every day in the mirror.
“I’m hoping you have more luck with him than Nando or I had.”
“Shit, Imari, if he won’t listen to you—”
“It’s not about listening to me, Matt. It’s about learning to listen to something in himself.” She took the file from my hand. “Don’t worry about it now. I just wanted to make sure you had it for next week. He’s coming in to see you first thing on Tuesday.”
“Thanks. And thanks again. For the day off. For understanding.”
The sparkle in Imari’s eyes told me I wasn’t going to like what was coming.
“Well, how could I say no to giving you a long weekend to spend with your husband, the rock star, before he leaves on tour.” Her emphasis was teasing but her smile was warm as always.
“He’s not a rock star.” I kicked at the seam where the carpet was coming up. “It’s not even rock music,” I added.
The heat in my face was only partially from rock star. Most of it was from husband. It had been over a year and my brain still couldn’t reconcile the word with the life I thought I’d have, to say nothing of the man himself.
“I know,” Imari said, saving me from the helpless flush of joy I got whenever I thought about Rhys. “I went to his show last night.”
“You did? What? Why? He didn’t tell me.”
“Oh, I didn’t stick around to say hey after. Took my ass home to bed. He’s really something, Matt.”
I looked at the floor so she wouldn’t see me smile. “Yeah.”
“And as to why.” She didn’t move any closer to me because she knew I didn’t like to be touched, but everything in her posture spoke of fierce care. “Because I care about you. I care that you’re happy. I wanted to see the man who makes you so happy. Problem?”