I don’t.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“It isn’t fine. He doesn’t climb on someone’s bed with shoes on.”
“Kid’s had a night.”
“He still has manners.”
August slides back off and sits on the floor to untie his shoes. “Sorry.”
I crouch before thinking and help with the knot because it’s tight and his fingers are small. Halfway through, I realize the room has gone quiet.
I look up.
Amelia is staring at me.
So is Sophie.
August says, “It double-knotted.”
“I see that.”
“Can you get it?”
“Kid, I can hotwire a truck and stitch a knife cut in a gas station bathroom. I can handle a shoelace.”
“What’s hotwire?”
Amelia says, “No.”
I sigh. “Forget that word.”
August looks suspicious. “I remember words.”
“Of course you do.”
I get the shoe off and set it by the bed. He kicks the other one at my knee.
“Please,” Amelia says automatically.
August repeats, “Please.”
I take the second shoe. “Thank you for remembering I ain’t staff.”
He grins at me.
That grin.
Damn it.
It’s missing one tiny tooth on the bottom, and it hits me in the chest like a thrown bottle.
I stand too fast.
Sophie is still watching me.
“Stop,” I tell her.