His statement caused me to let out a soft laugh. “You don’t have a defect.”
He rose up by levelling his hands on the table, totally distressed. “But how do you know?!”
Oh, my God, I honestly couldn’t take how cute it was when he got stressed out about stuff, like it was a matter of life and death. “Well, actually, I don’t. We’d have to test you.”
I twisted some spaghetti around my fork, concentrating on my food again.
“What are you waiting for? I want you to test me now, Mummy.”
I gave him my stern look. “I will, but first you have to finish eating your dinner.” He wasn’t happy with my answer, but he settled back in his seat nonetheless and finished his food. I had to go look up a colour blindness test online and do it with him afterwards. When he got the result that he wasn’t colour blind, he literally jumped for joy, throwing his small arms around my neck and squeezing.
“Oh, Mummy, I’m so glad I’m not colour blind. I don’t want a dog.”
I laughed harder this time, realising what had caused him so much distress. He thought he’d have to get a Seeing Eye dog if he was colour blind. Seriously, sometimes he was too cute to handle.
“All those poor blind people. Not getting to see the colours,” he went on, his words striking a chord in me. King used to see the colours, but he didn’t anymore. The world was all in grey. I needed to teach him how to see them again.
“Yeah, baby,” I whispered. “All those poor people.”
***
The next day after I closed up the office, I drove straight to the circus. I lied and told Elaine I’d be home late because I had a business dinner. She accepted my explanation without question, which made me feel even worse for lying. It was a necessary evil, though. For now.
The same as the first night, I couldn’t find a decent parking space because lots of people were arriving for the show. I spotted Lille out front, a queue of kids lined up at her booth, waiting to have their faces painted. I was just about to go over and say hello when I saw King. He was over by the entrance, pacing frantically, his eyes searching the faces of those who passed him by. The second he spotted me, he was on the move, determinedly threading his way through the crowds.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly when he stopped a few feet away.
He ran a hand through his long hair. “You didn’t come yesterday,” he stated gruffly.
He sounded annoyed, and I don’t know, there was something about it that satisfied me. I liked that he’d noticed my absence. Maybe it would help him realise he still wanted things, and that there was stuff worth getting better for. Or, more to the point, that there were people worth getting better for.
“I had to work,” I answered.
He frowned hard. “Do you work all through the night?”
“No.”
“Well, then, why didn’t you come?”
I arched my eyebrow and restrained a laugh. Seriously, his entitled tone reminded me so much of our son right then it was too funny. I made sure to keep my expression neutral, though, not wanting to distress him further.
“Because I was exhausted, and I’m not sure about you, but some of us use the nighttime for a little thing called sleep.” Being sassy with him was a risk, because it could have sent him off the deep end. It was a relief when it didn’t, as he continued fingering his long hair and apologised.
“I’m sorry. I’m ten hours sober. It’s making me tetchy. And I thought you might have stayed away because of how I spoke to you the other night.”
I eyed him meaningfully. “We had a little fight, King. It was nothing, and certainly not enough to make me give up on you. But anyhow, I thought you weren’t supposed to be going cold turkey?”
He let out a gruff breath. “I’m testing the waters, seeing how long I can go. I feel like shit, but I can handle it.” His eyes came to rest on me, and their intensity made me a little breathless. “I’m glad you came. I need a distraction. And I’ve missed you.”
I inhaled sharply at the stark honesty of his statement, and felt my heart give a hard pang of yearning. He was tugging at his hair now, but I wasn’t sure he realised he was doing it. Stepping closer, I tentatively reached up and untangled his fingers from the long strands. It was a little dirty, and I wondered if he’d washed it since two nights ago when Jack helped him.
“You’re going to end up pulling it out from the root,” I said softly, and he let me lower his hand, watching me closely all the while. Feeling a strange need, I sank my hands into his hair and ran them right down to the ends. King didn’t stop me from doing it, only continued stoically watching, and it gave me courage.
“You know, I really like your hair like this.”
“You do?” he asked, perplexed.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “It’s gorgeous, but it’s in need of a wash. What kind of sink does Marina have in her camper?”
King shrugged. “I don’t know. Never really noticed.”
“Well, do you think she’d mind if we used her bathroom for a half-hour to wash your hair?”
He narrowed his gaze. “You want to wash my hair?”
“Yes, Oliver, I do. Now, do you think she’d mind?”
Shaking his head and exhaling heavily, he answered, “No, she won’t mind.”
“Good. Come on, then,” I said, and gestured for him to follow.
I led the way to the back of the circus where the mobile homes were stationed, feeling King’s curious gaze on me as he walked a foot or two behind. I was wearing jeans again, and my spidey senses went on alert. I could practically feel him checking out my arse. He always used to do it before, and the thought gave me a rush of excitement. Any small sign of the old him was cause for optimism. When we reached Marina’s camper, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key to unlock the door. I let him lead the way inside as he walked to the bathroom.
“It’s a bit small,” he said, looking around.
I brushed off his comment and began rolling up my sleeves, sensing his apprehension. He was radiating want and…whatever the opposite of want was, like he was dying for me to wash his hair but at the same time dying for me not to. I understood. He wasn’t used to people touching him these days, and if my gut feeling was right, he wasn’t used to washing, either. He’d been living like a hobo, but I planned to gently guide him back into the land of soap and water. It was of the utmost importance.
I saw him pull a small packet from his jeans as I went to grab one of the chairs from Marina’s kitchen table, and then he popped something in his mouth.
“What was that?” I asked, carrying the chair into the bathroom and setting it down in front of the sink.
“A mint. Jack said I should suck on them so that I have something to do with my mouth.”
His words were said without any sexual undertones whatsoever, but still, they got my mind wandering to places it had no business wandering. I remembered him going down on me, the heavenly skill of his lips and tongue. He’d been really, really good at that. Blinking, I shook myself back to the present.
“Oh, right,” I said, looking away and sticking the stopper in the sink before turning on the hot tap and letting it fill.
“He says it will keep me occupied, so that I don’t think about having a drink.”
“Huh. That’s actually a good idea. Is it working?”
He lifted his shoulders. “A little.”
“Come here,” I said, gesturing to the chair. “Sit.”
Warily, he stepped inside the tiny bathroom, and I realised he was right, it was small. It felt even smaller with the two of us inside and a warm, tingling heat began to creep its way to the surface of my skin. King sat down as instructed, then stared up at me, waiting for what I was going to do next. My black shirt had a sweetheart neckline; it was modest enough, but it showed a hint of cleavage, and I was distinctly aware of King’s eyes resting there. Then he glanced up, saw I’d caught him, and looked away.