Especially if they meant a lot to you.”
He controlled his expression. “I don’t think about them when I’m with you. I think about you.”
“Yet you suppose I’m weaker somehow? Like I’m incapable of seeing you, feeling you inside my body , and knowing who’s in there? That’s the most patronizing, shitty thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You were going to marry him. I’m always going to be that other guy you slept with and got pregnant by.”
“Is this guilt?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as her gaze darted over his face in the semi-darkness.
“It’s fact.”
“Your facts are fucked up, Hotch.”
He rolled to his side, not wanting to talk anymore. “Good night, Erin.”
“Are you kidding me? You start the subject and you get to close it when you’re finished? I don’t think so. Roll over and talk to me.”
“It’s late.”
She pushed his shoulder. “Really? This is your idea of spending the week getting to know each other and see where things go?”
“I get tired after sex. Now you know something about me.”
Erin made a sound of frustration. She planted her feet on his back and shoved him to the floor. “Here’s something about me. If you aren’t going to fix what you broke, get the hell out of my bed.”
“This is my bed,” he argued from the carpet.
“Not when the members of the house have a two thirds vote, buddy.”
Hotch snatched a pillow and the comforter off the bed and hit the living room. He tried to curl up on the couch but his larger frame made it a challenge. Giving up, he brought his laptop over, turned on the living room lamp, and kept reading the journal.
If anyone knew how to get Erin out of a funk, it had to be Nebraska. He had to have messed up with her once or twice. He wasn’t perfect.
About an hour and a half later, he decided Nebraska had been perfect. He’d finished the journal and not once had Nebraska mentioned a disagreement with her, or needing to curry favor. Hotch closed the laptop and put it aside. He dropped his head in his hands. This sucked. He could almost feel the hostility radiating down the hall toward him.
Toby fussed. Hotch wrapped the comforter around himself and walked to Toby’s room. He soothed the sleeping boy until he quit whimpering, then tucked the blanket around Toby’s waist, keeping it away from his nose and mouth for safety. Hotch watched him for a long time, finding peace in the way Toby slept on, trusting that all would be taken care of, that all the bad dreams could be wiped away with a hushing sound and a light back rub.
“If only it were that easy,” he whispered, thinking of the rift forming between him and Erin. “I’m sorry I’m not Nebraska. He’d have been a great father. You got the guy who has to figure it all out and hope he doesn’t screw up your life.”
Hotch dropped a kiss on Toby’s temple. Toby sighed, jammed a fist in his mouth and suckled noisily in his sleep. Hotch chuckled. Toby and Erin were worth the effort, her reminded himself. He’d try to talk to her tomorrow.
According to Nebraska, she responded to honest conversation. Hotch had grown up keeping his feelings inside. Maybe it was time to change. For Erin. For Toby. It was possibly the most difficult and dangerous mission he’d been on yet. God, he just hoped he made it out the other side without losing her.
* * * *
Something woke him the next morning. The vague aural memory of a chime had him searching his brain for an answer, when it chimed again. The door.
Hotch got up and stumbled to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open. Commander Hawking stormed passed him, his gaze raking over Hotch’s home as though he was intensely displeased. When his eyes settled on Hotch again, a look of rage entered his expression.
Belatedly, Hotch remembered being kicked out of bed for the couch. He hadn’t taken any clothes with him, and he still stood as naked as the day he was born. Well, fuck decorum. If the CO was going to barge into
He controlled his expression. “I don’t think about them when I’m with you. I think about you.”
“Yet you suppose I’m weaker somehow? Like I’m incapable of seeing you, feeling you inside my body , and knowing who’s in there? That’s the most patronizing, shitty thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You were going to marry him. I’m always going to be that other guy you slept with and got pregnant by.”
“Is this guilt?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as her gaze darted over his face in the semi-darkness.
“It’s fact.”
“Your facts are fucked up, Hotch.”
He rolled to his side, not wanting to talk anymore. “Good night, Erin.”
“Are you kidding me? You start the subject and you get to close it when you’re finished? I don’t think so. Roll over and talk to me.”
“It’s late.”
She pushed his shoulder. “Really? This is your idea of spending the week getting to know each other and see where things go?”
“I get tired after sex. Now you know something about me.”
Erin made a sound of frustration. She planted her feet on his back and shoved him to the floor. “Here’s something about me. If you aren’t going to fix what you broke, get the hell out of my bed.”
“This is my bed,” he argued from the carpet.
“Not when the members of the house have a two thirds vote, buddy.”
Hotch snatched a pillow and the comforter off the bed and hit the living room. He tried to curl up on the couch but his larger frame made it a challenge. Giving up, he brought his laptop over, turned on the living room lamp, and kept reading the journal.
If anyone knew how to get Erin out of a funk, it had to be Nebraska. He had to have messed up with her once or twice. He wasn’t perfect.
About an hour and a half later, he decided Nebraska had been perfect. He’d finished the journal and not once had Nebraska mentioned a disagreement with her, or needing to curry favor. Hotch closed the laptop and put it aside. He dropped his head in his hands. This sucked. He could almost feel the hostility radiating down the hall toward him.
Toby fussed. Hotch wrapped the comforter around himself and walked to Toby’s room. He soothed the sleeping boy until he quit whimpering, then tucked the blanket around Toby’s waist, keeping it away from his nose and mouth for safety. Hotch watched him for a long time, finding peace in the way Toby slept on, trusting that all would be taken care of, that all the bad dreams could be wiped away with a hushing sound and a light back rub.
“If only it were that easy,” he whispered, thinking of the rift forming between him and Erin. “I’m sorry I’m not Nebraska. He’d have been a great father. You got the guy who has to figure it all out and hope he doesn’t screw up your life.”
Hotch dropped a kiss on Toby’s temple. Toby sighed, jammed a fist in his mouth and suckled noisily in his sleep. Hotch chuckled. Toby and Erin were worth the effort, her reminded himself. He’d try to talk to her tomorrow.
According to Nebraska, she responded to honest conversation. Hotch had grown up keeping his feelings inside. Maybe it was time to change. For Erin. For Toby. It was possibly the most difficult and dangerous mission he’d been on yet. God, he just hoped he made it out the other side without losing her.
* * * *
Something woke him the next morning. The vague aural memory of a chime had him searching his brain for an answer, when it chimed again. The door.
Hotch got up and stumbled to the door. He unlocked it and swung it open. Commander Hawking stormed passed him, his gaze raking over Hotch’s home as though he was intensely displeased. When his eyes settled on Hotch again, a look of rage entered his expression.
Belatedly, Hotch remembered being kicked out of bed for the couch. He hadn’t taken any clothes with him, and he still stood as naked as the day he was born. Well, fuck decorum. If the CO was going to barge into
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