“And you figured that out?”

She nods.

“You’re a good mom.”

“I’m gonna be better,” she says with forced conviction.

“Why do you think you aren’t good enough? Some moms don’t even make sure they feed their kids or keep them clean. You paid attention and diagnosed an issue a doctor couldn’t.”

“Well”—she swallows—“I suppose it’s because, at first, I went through the motions. I was just seventeen. My mother really wasn’t all that affectionate, so I suppose I didn’t know how.”

“And how is she with him?” I ask.

“She’s never met him,” she whispers. “She was in prison for dealing. She had a good lawyer or it would have been a much longer sentence, turns out she only did four years. When she got out, she left the country, illegally.”

“Left you?” I ask, staying calmer than I feel.

She nods. “She left me, but she left me the house. It was in my name before she divorced her latest husband. She also left me enough money to live on for a few years.”

“So, your work online is more a hobby?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles. “That’s how we live.”

“You and Noah?”

“My aunt and her kids who used to live there, too. Then they kind of moved back West. My cousins”—she holds up her hand—“all five of them, had a hard time with school.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, some of them got kicked out a lot, so she home-schooled them. Anyways, we ran out of money faster than Mom had planned for. When I was eighteen, I was either going to have to sell or get a mortgage on the house. I like my house. It’s—” She stops and looks down then up at me again. “I’ve never talked about this with anyone. It feels—”

“Weird?”

“No, good.”

I hold her hand up and kiss it. “Good.”

The flight attendant announces we will be landing soon.

“Saved by the bell.” She smiles, buckling her seat belt, then opening the laptop.

“I know it’s not rock star money, but after a year, I was able to make more than enough to pay the mortgage payment I ended up having to take out, and now we have a household account. See?” She points to some sort of bar that shows two thousand dollars. “This is paid for reviews. This is a slow month, but I’m not concerned. I have a job and the Stevie money in the account.” She then puts her laptop in her bag and shoves it under her seat.

I put my seat up and ask, “Where does your aunt work?”

“She works the online business and helps with Noah so that I can do the things she doesn’t understand.”

“Not a bad gig, Sonya. Two grand is nothing to complain about.”

“The mortgage is five.”

“Five grand? That’s a shit-ton of money.”

“It’s a big house.”

“But it was paid off.”

She holds up her hand. “Five teenagers and a lot of medical bills.”

“And you carry that burden and raise your boy?”

“She helps.”

I shut my mouth and then I can’t. “When I was a teenager, I slung newspapers and rode my bike into town to shovel sidewalks when I was hungry.”

“You were hungry?” she asks in a voice that tells me she feels sorry for me.

“No, I worked.”

This time, it’s her turn to reach over and hold my hand, and it feels good.

***

When we get to the hotel in Orlando, it’s late, really late. I know she slept for shit last night, so tonight, I have to let her sleep, but tomorrow, I have other plans.

This stay is longer, so I manipulate like a motherfucker to get us adjoining rooms again.

I watch her walk in her room and then go into mine. I set my bags down and decide to shower. After I’m done, I walk out and am starting to go through my bags to find a brush when I hear a knock on the door between our rooms.

I grab the towel off the floor and wrap it around my waist, open the door, and she’s standing in a towel.

“You need some sugar, neighbor?” I ask, stepping back so she can come get some.

My dick is immediately hard as she walks by.

“Did the bell boy bring my bags in here?”

“Not yet. I have my bag if you need something for now.”

She looks back at me, then glances down and quickly away.

“Yaya, there is no way in hell you missed that, so let’s not pretend I’m standing here limp or that you’re gonna get a stitch of clothes.”

“I’m tired.” She walks around, looking for something. “I hope they didn’t lose my luggage.”

“It’s not here.”

She blows out a long breath, then yawns.

I walk over and turn down the bed. “Sleep with me?”

She nods.

“I’m gonna make damn sure you sleep tonight,” I say as I climb in bed behind her. “In the morning, I’m gonna make damn sure you’re feeling me well into the next day. Then, I’m gonna do it again.”

She rolls to her side and backs her little towel-clad ass against me. Then I roll facing her back and start to push my arm under hers. When she lifts it, I wrap my arm around her and pull her back against me.

“Goodnight, Finn.”

“Not bad at all.”

***

I wake to her voice, and although the curtains are drawn, I can see slivers of the hot Florida sun.

I get up and walk into the bathroom, where she is looking in the mirror.

“Good morning,” I say before kissing the back of her head.

“It is now.” She smiles at me through the mirror’s reflection.

Her phone rings and she grabs it up. “I saw two missed calls and tried to call you back. Is everything okay?”

I rest my chin on her shoulder, and she rests her head against my cheek.

I hear a woman on the other end say, “Noah needs to go in for a treatment. When we get back, I’ll call and let you know how it goes.”

“How is he?” she asks in obvious concern.

“He’s running a low grade fever, and his breathing is labored. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll catch a flight. There’s enough money in the household account, isn’t there?” she asks.

“I don’t know, but it’s not necessary. I will call you after we see a doctor.”

“Aunt Margie, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She hangs up the phone and looks at me.

“I’ll call the front desk about your luggage.”

After wrapping the sheet around me, I search the web for flight information. I can’t stay holed up in a hotel when Noah is sick. What was I thinking leaving him for this long?

I find a flight from Orlando to Columbus that departs in four hours. Nine hundred dollars. That’s a lot of money, a lot, but I can do it. I know the money is there.

I grab my hair and take a deep breath, knowing I need to call Taelyn. I hit her number on my contact list, and she answers on the second ring.

“Sorry to bother you, but … well …” Frustration beckons tears, and the fear of losing my job drags them out. “I was wondering if it would be all right to go home for a couple days. My son is sick, and—”

“Of course. Family first, Sonya, always,” she says with the utmost sincerity in her voice.

“You’re sure? Because I really need this job,” I reply.

“Nothing is scheduled for the next three days. Just spreading the word about the open auditions. I am sure Tally can handle it. Go, get home.” She is almost insistent.

“Thank you so much,” I say as I wipe the tears from my face. “Taelyn, I want you to know I am sincerely sorry about how I came to get this job, but I want you to know I am so grateful for the opportunity.”

“Well,” she whispers, “I am sure Xavier hired you because of his concern for Memphis and the band, but I pushed it because I had a feeling about you. You are an asset to this team. Now get off the phone and book your flight. If you need to use the corporate card, feel free.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure I still have enough money. Taelyn, thank you.”