The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(85)

And it was.

So f*cking incredible.

Waking up with him. Wandering out to my private studio in the backyard. Levee coming over so we could write songs together, just like the old days. Then calling it a day and coming home to him.

Indescribable.

But, as the years passed and we watched Sam and Levee fill their bedrooms with two more girls, Evan and I both felt like something was missing from our lives. We thought about the whole surrogate thing. He loved the idea of little blond babies. Meanwhile, I’d have given anything for one with his dark complexion. However, yet another act of God made the decision for us.

Evan and I were huddled together on the couch one night when my manager contacted me about doing some charity work with a local afterschool program specifically for kids in the foster system. Given my upbringing, I jumped at the opportunity. That was the day I first laid eyes on the little boy who would become the rest of my life.

While I played for the group of about twenty-five kids, Dominic, with his dark-brown eyes and short, black hair, ignored me completely. He sat in the back of the room with a notebook in his hand and a pencil in his grip. For the intensity with which he looked at it, I was dying to see what was on that paper, so as soon as I was done with my set, I flipped my guitar over my shoulder and headed his way.

His eyes barely lifted to mine before he pasted on the attitude I immediately recognized as my own when I had been that age. The world had given him nothing, and that was exactly what he was going to give back.

I knew in that moment I was going to give that little boy the world. Whether it was talking to him about the numerous zombies he had scrawled across the page or purchasing him a new pair of shoes to show off to his friends in order to make him feel even an ounce of pride in himself, I was going to do it.

A lengthy discussion with Evan ultimately ended with us filing for the adoption of both Dominic and his five-year-old little brother, Shawn.

It was a long process before it was finalized, but eventually, all of our last names were Alexander-Roth.

Growing up, I had never really pictured myself as a parent, but besides marrying Evan, it was easily the best thing I’d ever done. Those boys expanded our hearts and then filled every possible crevice.

“Come here, buddy. You’re not in trouble,” I called to Shawn.

Evan’s eyes snapped to mine in question, but I waved him off. That one interaction basically summed up our parenting style.

Evan was the hard-ass disciplinarian the boys so desperately needed. Meanwhile, I was, much to Evan’s dismay, a little more lax and nurturing. I just didn’t have it in me to punish them—and they knew it.

“Henry, he can’t beat up other kids. You can’t condone this,” Evan whisper-yelled.

“His not being in trouble doesn’t mean I condone it,” I whispered back.

He pursed his lips and glared at me.

The squeak of sneakers against the tile came from around the corner where Shawn remained hidden, but it was Dom who appeared. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked, handing me yet another school supply list.

What in the ever-loving hell these schools did with five million pencils and folders, I’d never understand.

“He got in a fight,” I replied, passing the list to Evan.

Dom’s eyes went huge, and his mouth formed a hard line. “Good. I hope he kicked both of their as—” His eyes jumped to Evan, who was leveling him with a scary—but kind of hot—scowl. “Er…butts,” he finished.

“What do you know about this? Your brother won’t tell me anything,” Evan asked.

Dom sighed and glanced back at his brother, who was once again peeking around the corner at us. “Some kid at school was picking on him yesterday because you guys are gay.”

“Oh, shit,” Evan mumbled under his breath.

I twisted my lips and pressed a hand to my chest. “Well, technically, I’m gay.” I flicked a thumb in Evan’s direction. “Dad here is—”

Evan’s hand flew out and covered my mouth. “You’re not in trouble,” he called to Shawn. Then he looked back at Dom. “Take your brother and get ready for bed. We’ll talk about this later.”

Dom smiled mischievously and backed away.

While I usually adored quiet time with Evan, the lasers he was shooting at me had me contemplating asking the boys to stay.

“What?” I finally asked when the heat—and not the good kind—became too much.

“You cannot tell our kids that I’m bisexual.”

I spun my chair to face him and leaned forward, resting my hands on his thighs. “It’s true though. Just because you abandoned the opposite sex doesn’t change anything.”

He shook his head and placed his hands on mine to stop them from sliding any higher. “Shawn blacked the kid’s eye. And, if you’d seen him, you’d see his lip was split wide open.”

My breath hitched and my stomach rolled. “He’s in second grade! Don’t they still pull hair?”

“No. They don’t,” he said frankly. “This is serious, Henry.”

Suddenly, I was starting to agree. “So, what do we do? Do they make a book for this? I’m willing to read some non-erotica if I need to.”

He frowned, but the side of his mouth twitched. At least he still found me humorous.