“Bianca went there. She bought it for me.” I’d assumed he’d have already read up on this, given his Google search of me the other day, but he’d probably forgotten with so much happening since yesterday.

His jaw hitched to the side as it clicked, as it hit him how important this shirt was to me, and yet, I was giving it to him.

He wordlessly set it on the couch and removed his hat, sweatshirt, and whatever T-shirt he’d had underneath it. He put on the NYU tee and smoothed a hand over his chest as if removing wrinkles that weren’t there.

He didn’t bother to put back on his hoodie but did position his hat backward instead of forward, copying me. Judging by Juliette’s quick smile, she’d noticed that distinction, too.

I did my best to backburner my emotions for now and let them know, “I have concerns about being out in public. There are risks.” Even if I plan to be armed.

“Oh.” Juliette lost her smile and walked around the coffee table to come closer, waiting for me to continue.

“Come on, you’ve got us covered. No one would dare bother us when you’re around.” Colin guilted me with sad eyes and prayer hands. “I need to get out and get some fresh air. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Suffocating in a thirty-million-dollar penthouse? Yeah, right. “You don’t have plans to meet up with Lennon secretly, and that’s why you want out?” Believe me, I’ll find out.

“Of course not.” He fidgeted with his hat. “I was hoping you’d let me get behind the wheel of your car, though.”

“Do you know how to drive?”

He shook his head. “I thought you could teach me.”

Giving him a first anything was too appealing to turn down. Too appealing for me to remember the risks of going out.

My rational, common-sense brain became secondary to my heart as I tossed him the keys to my Maserati. “Then I guess today’s the day you learn to drive.”

32. Constantine

Chapter 32

Constantine

“You’re a fast learner,” I complimented Colin after he attempted parallel parking for the fifth time.

I considered it a success—not because he’d actually pulled it off but because he didn’t hit the car behind us while trying to do so.

“And you don’t totally suck as a teacher,” he remarked with a grin.

I was also a quick study and knew that was my son’s way of saying thank you. I’d take what I could get.

“You think I’ll get accepted here one day?” Colin asked almost solemnly, staring at the New York University building next to us, the school’s flag waving like a beacon of hope in the breeze.

Juliette leaned forward from the backseat, patting his shoulder. “Of course.”