“I’m sorry you didn’t get that when you were little.” I had a tendency to dwell on my own childhood inadequacies and disappointments, but Derrick’s stories were a good reminder that plenty of people had had it far worse than me. A little teasing was hardly on par with being an orphan. “But I’m glad you had her in your life when you needed her.”
“Yeah. My early years were kind of...hectic. Lots of loud arguments and moving around a lot.” Derrick’s eyes took on a far-off cast, but I didn’t dare interrupt him because this was the most he’d shared about his biological parents. “I don’t remember a ton, to be honest. My parents had a very dysfunctional off-and-on-again relationship before they died in a car accident. The social workers placed me with Grandma. Upended her retirement, but she never complained.”
“Why would she? You’re pretty awesome.” I gave him another hug, this one tighter. I couldn’t take his loss away, but I could let him know he wasn’t alone now. I wanted to tell him he could borrow my family whenever he wanted, wished that was something I could offer him for more than a week. Derrick deserved a family.
“Thanks.” He leaned into my hug. “And thanks for listening. I don’t talk about the past a ton.”
I could sense from the tension in his shoulders that he didn’t want the conversation to turn too heavy, so I made my voice teasing as I nudged him. “You? The silent type? Never.”
“Ha. But I mean it. You make me want to talk and talk.”
“I like that.” Our gazes linked, and it was all I could do to not swoon in the face of that compliment and the warmth in his eyes. Something was happening here, something big, something I couldn’t name, and I was powerless to look away.
However, right as I leaned in farther, the door to the dining hall swung open and Aunt Sandy burst in. Apparently, there was no moment too sweet for familial interruption around here.
“What are you guys doing?” she asked. “You can’t hide out here all day.”
“Sure we can.” I laughed, but I felt my words in my soul, another powerful brainstorm hitting me. We didn’t have to do the scavenger hunt. Or anything else we didn’t want to do. We make the rules, I’d told Derrick. And maybe that applied to more than simply awards or activities. Perhaps there was a deeper lesson there if I was brave enough to listen.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Derrick
“Training circus seals might be easier than this.” Arthur clutched a clipboard in one hand as he gestured with the other at the throng of kids milling around the back of the dining hall in the makeshift backstage area for talent night.
“More of our recruits might listen to us in real SEAL training.” Laughing, I clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve done amazing. The last run-through sounded great and no one fell.”
“Thanks. I want things to go perfectly.” His nerves were kind of cute. And also, something I could help with.
“They will. And luckily for you, I’d make a decent ringmaster for that circus.” I gave a piercing warning whistle, breaking through the kid chaos. “Okay, team, huddle up!”
“I never thought I’d find whistling such a turn-on.” Arthur used a low whisper as the kids made their way back to us.
“What can I say? I’m a guy of many talents,” I joked right before I whistled again to hurry the kids up. “Everyone listen up. We need to form a line from youngest to oldest.”
“That’s going to be our show order,” Arthur added, glancing down at his clipboard. “That way the little kids have to wait the least.”
“I wanted to be first!” Vince was predictably the loudest dissenter.
“No, I should be first,” Taylor countered, shoving his cousin.
“I’m older.” Seth had a self-important air, but Vince made a scoffing noise.
“By thirty seconds, doofus.”
“Still older.” Seth crossed his arms over his bony chest.
“Whatever. If you’re older, I’m going first.” Fist pumping, Vince did a move that was somewhere between martial arts and victory dance.
“Hey, I’m younger than both of you. That makes me first.” Taylor’s triumphant wiggle served to make both twins groan.
“Enough.” I whistled again and added a handclap for good measure. “There will plenty of applause for everyone. And going last is great too. Then you’re like the closing pitcher in baseball.”
“Ha. Dudes, I’m the closer.” Seth seized the opportunity to glare at the other two.
“No, I’m—”
“You stand here. And you here.” I directed them into order for the line. “If you can stay quiet long enough for Arthur’s announcements, I’ll let you look at my car’s engine tomorrow.”
Vince got a speculative look. “Before we leave?”
“Yeah, before then.” Damn it. I didn’t like the reminder of how few hours we had left. I didn’t want to think about tomorrow, driving back with Arthur, planning for our breakup and returning to a real world where Arthur wasn’t in my bed each night. How had we run out of time? My stomach churned.