I never really appreciated him. Or Ronin, for that matter.
My therapists—all of my many, many therapists—they all warned me that being alone is not part of the human condition.
That’s the word they used. Always. The human condition. Like it needs to be capitalized.
People are social, they insisted. And since I am a person, I need to be social.
It just never happened that way. I did get better at things. I can talk to people, obviously. I did well in school. I played on teams and learned that whole working together lesson. And there’s no way you can produce shows and films alone. Even if you carry the camera and do the editing yourself, you have to have actors.
MIT never understood why I turned them down, but I knew accepting that offer was a dead end for me. I knew it instinctively. I knew that locking myself away in a lab curing diseases, or desperately seeking to understand the real significance of the Higgs boson, or looking up in the night sky trying to discern the percentage of nitrogen gas around distant planets—or any of the other millions of more worthwhile things I should be doing with my intellect than producing game shows—these things, these experiences would not be in my best interest.
Because even though people are social, the self has to come first or it all breaks down.
I went to film school to save myself from wasting my life away as a lonely, solitary introvert.
I joined my first team when I went to college. Not the baseball team or the occasional pick-up hockey teams. My first social team—Film Studies. That one step forward opened the door to Ronin, Spencer, and Mardee. My first, and only, professional team. Which led to Rook. Which led to Ashleigh.
And even though I’m here for my own selfish reasons—I like her, I want to f**k her nightly and again every morning—right now, this actual moment in time, I’m here because Ashleigh looks like she could use another team member.
I’d like to be on her team.
Kate squirms and I pat her back. She’s already got me trained. If she wiggles a little she can get a part of the human condition we all crave.
Intimacy and love.
And since I’m part of the human condition, as well as a sucker for adorable babies who have moms named Ashleigh, I give in. I pat her back until she’s sleeping so deep she no longer notices the lack of rhythmic thumping against her skin.
But since she’s part of the human condition as well, she returns the favor. And I drift off to the beat of her heart against mine, feeling appreciated and satisfied.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It’s the French toast that wakes me. Kate is no longer on my chest—in fact, I’m face down in the pillow. Ashleigh is also missing. Which explains the French toast.
Four Seasons room service.
I roll out of bed, glance at myself in the mirror, stop to flatten down some bedhead, and then make my way out to the living area of the suite. The dining table is filled with food, but that’s not what catches my attention first. “She sits!” I beam at Kate in her highchair and she shoots me a toothless grin and flails her hands in response.
Ashleigh is sitting at the table wearing a fluffy white robe, spooning some goop into Kate’s eager mouth. “Yeah,” she smiles over her shoulder. “She’s four months today and I thought I’d see if she could manage the chair.”
“Four months. You said three years.”
“You asked when they could sit in a chair alone or something ridiculous like that. She can’t sit up all by herself just yet. But probably pretty soon. They learn new things every day when they’re this small.”
I’m intrigued. “What else do they do at four months?”
“Roll over, so keep an eye out. And teeth will be coming soon, I think.”
The table is filled with pretty much everything on the breakfast menu so I help myself to some eggs and waffles, pour some syrup, and take a seat on the other side of Ash. “So she’s gonna be entertaining us daily? Nice.”
“Yeah, well, she’ll also start getting more demanding and stop sleeping so much too. This is when the hard part starts.” Ash lets out a long sigh and I know exactly what that sigh says. She’s gonna have to deal with all the bad stuff alone. And all the good stuff is just a little less fun when she’s got no one to share it with.
“I’ll help if you need anything. I got her to sleep last night, didn’t I?”
Ashleigh looks up at me again. “Thank you. And…” She trails off a little and I swear she’s blushing. “I’d just like to officially declare that last night was amazing. Except—”
I raise my eyebrows and swallow my eggs. “You have a complaint? How is this possible?”
She blushes even brighter. “You just said… and normally I would not bring it up, but you’re the one who said…”
I wait, but she waves her hand in a never-mind gesture.
“Said? What?”
She shakes her head furiously and then giggles. She’s too embarrassed to say the words.
I can’t help myself, I laugh. “You have to say it or I’ll punish you. Three swats for not finishing a thought, and one extra when it’s about sex.”
“Well, you said, back in the room in Utah, that you’d tie my ankles to my thighs.”
I laugh.
“Ford, you made me come with words. That’s not something you forget.”
“I do not take requests, Miss Li. So I can make no promises.”
“Whatever.”