“Fur one eh the sport bookies chains.” She flashed me a smile and I was almost knocked over by the extremely rare sight. “It’s awright money, like.”

“Lorraine, I’m so pleased for you.”

She shrugged, shuffling back from me, seeming all too uncomfortable again. “Well, just wanted tae tell ye ’cos I probably widnae huv got it if it wisnae fur this class. I’ll see ye later.” She dashed out of the room before I could say anything else.

I stared after her. Lorraine was as rough as they came and prickly as hell. She didn’t like me, or at least she didn’t understand me, but she was the first student since Jarrod’s death to make me feel like there was still a chance to make a difference at all this.

Marco’s muddy riggers were sitting on a folded-out newspaper just inside the door to my flat. I felt something pleasant shift in my chest at the sight of them, and after I shut the door behind me, I cocked my head to listen for the sound of him.

I could hear the shower running.

To prove to him I was serious about us, I’d given him a key to my flat a few days ago. I knew, despite his determination to keep us together, that I had a way to go in reassuring him that I wasn’t going to do a one-eighty and come up with another reason for us not to work it out. My suspicion that he wasn’t quite over my defection sprang from the fact that this weekend was his weekend with Dylan and he hadn’t suggested I stick around for it.

I could live with that.

For now.

Dropping my keys in the bowl on my side table, I kicked off my shoes and then moved into the sitting room. Marco’s empty coffee mug was sitting on the table, his jacket was hanging over the back of the armchair. Shrugging out of my own jacket, I draped it across the arm of the chair and began making my way out into the hall, unbuttoning my shirt as I sauntered toward the bathroom. For the last eight nights Marco had stayed with me, but he’d given me space sexually, allowing me to deal with Jarrod’s loss, and the ramifications of it upon my kids at school. Marco didn’t want to push me into the physical stuff, and that was thoughtful and considerate and, ironically, sexy as hell.

That’s why I was done with him giving me space. I wanted a new kind of comfort from him. Specifically in the form of orgasms.

Dropping my shirt to the floor, I pushed open the bathroom door, the steam from the shower hitting me immediately. Marco jerked his head up at the sight of me through the somewhat fogged glass of the shower screen, and then a slow smile that melted my insides lit up his handsome face.

I unzipped my pencil skirt and pushed it to the tiled floor, my eyes devouring my too-hot-to-be-real boyfriend. By the time my underwear was off, Marco was ready for me. I stepped into the shower, eyed his hard-on with a sense of empowerment, and lowered myself gracefully to my knees to help him out with the situation I’d gotten him into.

As I lay in bed, my arm draped over Marco’s stomach and my head resting on his chest, I suddenly gave voice to my wandering thoughts. “Do you ever think about finding your mum and dad?”

Marco gave a huff of surprise. “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking about you and Dylan and how you managed to turn into this great dad despite your lack of a role model.”

“I guess I just don’t need my folks anymore, you know? It used to burn in my gut – the rejection. It did for a long time. But once Dylan came along, I slowly began to see it wasn’t my fault that my parents didn’t want me. You hold your kid in your arms, and if you don’t feel an overwhelming need to protect them, then that’s on you, not the kid.”

I sat up a little so I could look him in the eyes. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

His eyes warmed. “Back at you, babe.” His gaze suddenly turned knowing. “I’ll introduce you to Dylan as my girlfriend soon. I promise.”

Wrinkling my nose, I pulled back from him, disquieted. “Are you a mind reader now?”

Marco grinned and it was cocky enough for me to want to smack it off his lips. “I’m a Hannah-reader and my not introducing you this weekend doesn’t mean what you think it does. I just want this weekend to explain stuff to him first.”

Appeased by that, I said, “It’s fine. I get it.” I settled back down beside him and pressed a soft kiss to his chest. “You do what’s best for Dylan.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m sorry, but… you’re never taking him ice skating. Ever.”

Marco’s laughter rang throughout my apartment as he attempted to escape the punch that I was aiming for his upper arm.

“So I take it this is permanent this time?”

I turned back from watching Dylan as he chatted quietly to his dad. Marco was down on his haunches, rezipping Dylan’s jacket after his son had started to remove it. We were taking him out today, however, and I gathered that was what Marco was telling him quietly, since Dylan kept throwing me quizzical looks every now and then. It was hard to pull my eyes away from them together, but I did at Leah’s question.

It was two weeks since Marco had laid down the law and told me I was not allowed to take Dylan skating. He’d revised it to say I was not allowed to take Dylan skating unsupervised, which I thought was rather fair of him, considering what he’d witnessed the last time I was on a rink.

This was my first weekend hanging out with Dylan. Marco had explained to him who I was and what I meant to him and that I’d be around a lot whenever Dylan came to see his dad. I didn’t know how Dylan was going to react to that. Although he was used to sharing Leah with Graham, since Graham had been in the picture almost as long as Dylan had been alive, I didn’t know how he’d feel about sharing his superhero dad.