So keeping busy was vital.
During the day, I worked on some of the remodeling projects Christopher had mentioned while he worked in his room, where he had a small nook that was just big enough for a desk. At night we held each other as we watched movies and talked about everything and nothing. I’d learned more about Christopher’s childhood both before and after Con had come into their lives. It had been the death of Christopher’s father that had brought the MMA fighter into Micah’s life, and while it had been a bumpy journey, there was no doubt that Christopher considered Micah and Con his fathers even if he didn’t call them that.
In turn, I’d told him about how I’d planned to live in Colorado close to my folks. Since my work required a lot of travel, I’d been living out of hotels pretty much nonstop, but I’d been ready to set up a home base somewhere, and that somewhere was supposed to have been Colorado.
They were all the conversations that normal people had long before they began playing house, but our way worked for us. After the bloody nose thing, there’d been no more talk of whether or not I was staying over. In fact, Christopher had taken it a step further by insisting we gather up the rest of my four-legged brood and bring them back to the house with us. The bunnies spent most of the day eating through all the overgrown grass and vegetation in the less than tidy fenced-in backyard.
Except Thumper.
She was too busy sticking to Pip’s side like glue. The pair had become inseparable, and they were so damn cute together, Christopher and I often joked that they needed their own social media page.
As smoothly as things were going, there was one glaring sticking point that neither of us talked about.
His family.
Specifically, King.
I still had a job to do, and that kept me in daily communication with King. I often went to his and Gio’s house to work with King on logistics and strategy, but I hadn’t once mentioned my relationship with Christopher. Even on the multiple occasions that the topic of Christopher had come up between Gio and King while I’d been there and I’d been forced to see how devastated Gio was by the turn his and Christopher’s relationship had taken, I’d stayed silent. When Gio and King had told me they’d put their wedding on hold because Gio wanted Christopher to be his best man but wasn’t sure his onetime best friend would say yes, I’d actually had to make up an excuse to leave because I’d been so fucking torn up inside for all of them.
My hope was that the next round of Christopher’s testing would be the catalyst that brought him back to his family. Even if the news wasn’t good, it was more apparent than ever that Christopher needed to come home.
For real this time.
“Oh, wow,” I heard Christopher say from behind me as he stepped out onto the back porch. “Rush, it’s gorgeous!”
I loved how he immediately came to me and put his arm around me.
“I still need to stain it, but I’ll need you to pick out what color you want. I can also just paint it if you prefer—”
Christopher’s mouth on mine shut me up. Unfortunately, it was over too soon. “What I want is to try it out,” Christopher said, and then he was closing his fingers around mine. He sat gingerly on the gliding bench and smiled when it rocked back and forth just a tiny bit as he sat. I sat down next to him and automatically put my arm around his shoulder.
“It’s perfect,” Christopher whispered.
I’d built the gliding bench after Christopher had mentioned wanting to put some kind of seating on the back porch so we could watch the rabbits frolic or just enjoy the weather. It had taken me four days of nearly nonstop work, but I’d pulled it off, and I’d even managed to surprise Christopher with it. He’d assumed I’d been working on some shelving in the garage. While Christopher’s tool kit had been a little on the sparse side (three screwdrivers and a hammer), thankfully, I’d had all of my father’s tools in storage, so it had just been a matter of getting everything set up in the garage.
As I leaned back against the bench, I used my boot to get it moving. Christopher’s hand came up to cover the one I had on his shoulder. I could feel the stitches against my own skin.
“How’s this feeling?” I asked as I turned my hand a bit so we could twine our fingers together.
“Good,” Christopher said with a nod. “Dr. Kleinman said she’ll take the stitches out when I go in for the results.”
“When we go in,” I corrected.