Until December (Until Her/Him #8)(37)

I don’t know what it is about seeing her like that, but I do know I like it a whole fuck of a lot. If I’m honest, I just fucking like her. There is something about her that puts me at ease, and not surprisingly, she has the same effect on my boys. From the time she walked into the house, there was no nervousness from either of them. If anything, they acted as if they had known her for years. Mitchell might have had something to do with his brother’s easy acceptance of December, but I have a feeling she just has that kind of effect on people.

With a deep breath, I finish wiping down the counters and cleaning up the kitchen then go down the hall and knock on Max’s door.

“Yeah,” he calls.

I push the door open, finding him lying on his bed with his Switch. “You good, kid?”

“Yep.” He glances at me quickly before going back to his game.

“Twenty minutes and lights out.”

“I know.”

“Love you,” I say, and he finally stops what he’s doing to look at me. “Always.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he replies quietly.

I lift my chin, back out of the room, and close the door, then head down to Mitchell’s room and knock. “Come in,” he grunts, and I frown as I push the door in.

“What are you doing?”

“Rearranging my room.”

“I see that. Can I ask why?”

“In feng shui, it says your bed shouldn’t be under the window.”

“Feng shui?”

“Yeah, my friend Kim’s family is big into it, and she told me about the whole window thing.”

“Kim’s a girl?” I question, and he looks at me and shrugs. I smile. “Do you need my help?”

“Nope.”

“All right, yell out if you do.”

“I will,” he says then asks, “Is December still here?”

“She is.”

“Cool.” His smirk makes him look older than he is.

“Don’t forget about bedtime.”

“I know.” He rolls his eyes.

I leave him to finish moving his bed then go back to the living room. As soon as I take a seat on the couch and pull December’s feet onto my lap, she asks, “Are the boys okay?”

Fuck but that question shouldn’t make my chest warm, but it does. “They’re good. Mitchell’s rearranging his bed, and Max is playing a video game.”

“Rearranging his bed?”

“Feng shui.”

“Awww.” She nods. “Kim.”

“You know her?”

“She’s one of the kids who comes every week to help mentor, and I’ve overheard her talking about feng shui a few times. I think Mitch has a crush on her. Most of the boys do.” She presses her lips together for a moment. “Not that she seems to notice. She’s a little bit of a nerd.”

“I see,” I mutter then dip my head toward her book. “Are you still reading or do you want to watch something?”

“I’ll watch something.” She sets her Kindle on the coffee table and moves her feet off my lap, turning so we’re sitting much like we were earlier, with her resting against my side. “Wait, go back one channel,” she says as I’m flipping through the stations. “I’ve been waiting for the new season of this to start. Do you mind if we watch this?”

“What’s it about?” I ask her as I slouch back in the couch with her in my arms.

“That guy—” She points at the guy on the screen. “—helps solve murders that have gone cold. It’s kind of interesting how he goes about things, and a little scary the amount of evidence it takes to convict someone of a crime, even if it’s clear they are the one who committed it.” She lays her head on my chest. “I really liked last season.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Whatever.” She sighs, and I capture her hand and hold it over my heart as we watch a real-life murder mystery unfold. The show isn’t something I’d normally watch, but I have to admit it’s good. When it comes to an end, I go check on the boys one last time. I find Max asleep holding his Switch, so I take it from him then tuck his blankets up around his shoulders and kiss his head. When I open Mitchell’s door, I find him asleep with his window open a crack and a slight breeze blowing his curtains. Smiling, I walk across the room and touch my fingers to his dark hair before leaving him to sleep.

“The boys are both out,” I tell December as soon as I hit the living room, and she looks at me over her shoulder. The moment her eyes meet mine, I see nervousness enter her gaze. I don’t say a word about it; I turn off the TV and then hold out my hand for her to take. She doesn’t hesitate, placing her hand in mine, and I use it to help her up off the couch then lead her toward my bedroom, which is just off the kitchen and living room on the opposite end of the house from the boys.

Once we’re in my room, I close the door then take her to the bathroom. I dig through one of the drawers to see if I have a spare toothbrush for her to use, and when I find one, I turn holding it out and see she hasn’t moved from the doorway.

“Come here.” I drop the toothbrush then lean back against the counter, half expecting her to ignore my request. But surprisingly, she walks toward me and settles her weight against my body. Grabbing hold of her hip, I dip my head and touch my lips to hers before asking, “What’s on your mind?”