His Little Boy

Chapter 9

I could still remember the first time I met Nickolai.

I was ten, my father organising me to go to Jeremy's birthday party that I was not excited for. Being the bratty boy that Jeremy was, he'd thrown a sultana at me the day before and since he hadn't apologised, like on his knees, my ten year old self refused to accept that it was an accident.

"Why can't you stand still for five seconds Samantha?" Dad sighed, tugging lightly on the end of my hair in an attempt to keep my small body still. Dad's hands were steady and practised as he twisted my long dark hair into plaits.

"But daaaaddd...."

"No buts Missy," he said in his most stern voice. "Jeremy invited you to his party, so you will be going."

I pouted, crossing my arms across my chest as petulantly as possible. "But he threw a sultana at me!" The man in front of me laughed, his eyes twinkling brightly at me with their blue depths. Being ten and having someone laugh at you isn't exactly a dream come true, which is why you can see why my small self burst into tears. Body wracking sobs with no reason for their presence.

"Hey!" My father immediately ceased laughing, his large calloused hands reaching forwards to grasp my shoulders. "No crying Missy. When a boy throws a sultana at you it means he likes you."

I stopped my spluttering, wiping my tears with a grubby fist. "Likes me?"

My dad nodded his head enthusiastically," I know from experience that it means he likes you."

"How do you know daddy?"

He smiled and I could tell that in this moment his mind was off elsewhere, totally oblivious to where he was now as he got lost in his memories. His eyes got that faraway look in them, hands going slack on my shoulders and his mouth curving at the corners as if he was privy to his own inside joke. Every time I said something he did this when I was younger. It seemed everything reminded him of my mother.

"I know, Missy, because I threw a sultana at your mother when we were teenagers. It was the first time I had enough courage to talk to her and all she did was smile and walk away after I said hello." He lost the smile, his features shutting down slightly. "But no matter. Are you more excited about going to Jeremy's now?"

I continued to sulk, but even now I'm not sure if it was for dad's benefit or my own. All I do know is that the second I laid eyes on Jeremy's older brother I never wanted to leave. He stood back from the crowd, a phone clutched to his ear as his eyes blazed with anger at whoever he was talking to. He stood tall even then, his hair unruly in small curls and waves that brushed into his eyes. His mother was obviously in charge of his outfit, evident by the deep blue dress shirt with a collar and black slacks that looked ridiculous on his tall frame. It was the eyes though, even then blazing with anger that had captured my ten year old heart and squeezed the life out of it. I was hooked ever since.

I felt the exact same thing now as I looked into a much larger and much better looking Nickolai as he strolled into my backyard bearing gifts and smiles. Keenan's party was a go and so far the little guy was loving all the attention he was receiving from the guests. He especially loved his grandparents who sat in the makeshift pillow mound on the grass and played with the small boy. But it was Nickolai that I was most anxious to see. I couldn't help that small voice in my head that told me that he wasn't going to come. That regardless of our talk yesterday, he was going to go back to the same surly man. But strangely enough he walked in smiling. And with gifts! As in plural. The man was so going to spoil my son.

"Sam!" I turned towards Jeremy's over enthusiastic voice as he bounded through my guests. He threw his arms around me and squeezed until I thought I was going to burst with the pressure. He was not the little kid he was when we were younger, most definitely not. There was the tattoos, the muscles, and the playful manner that wasn't quite as evident as it once was. Jeremy had grown up, and I was disappointed that I wasn't there to see it.