Could Have Been Us

by Corinne Michaels

  And last night, I did it again.

  I push the bread away, not feeling much like eating.

  “I’ve known you my whole life,” Grayson says, his back against the counter as he watches me. “I’ve never seen you that fucked up. Well, not since we were in college.”

  Since the night I lost my fucking mind when I found out Stella was pregnant.

  “Yeah,” is the brilliant reply I come up with.

  Grayson laughs. “You’re an idiot and a liar. You kept saying shit like, ‘I don’t even want to like her.’”

  I scratch my head and then sigh. “I don’t.”

  “Like who?”

  Your sister.

  “No one. It really doesn’t matter because I was drunk and don’t remember much. I must’ve met someone at the bar.”

  And because I put the proverbial nail in the coffin last night when I called us a mistake.

  Stella won’t take that lying down. She will never look at me the same after that one.

  Good.

  I’d like it all to stop. If she hated me, this would be a hundred times easier. I wouldn’t have to see things I’d rather not when she looks at me.

  “You? You never meet anyone at a bar and then get drunk like that.”

  I lay my head down on my arms to stop the pounding. “Clearly, I was a mess.”

  “Was it Misty?” he asks.

  If Grayson knew Misty, he wouldn’t be asking that. A long time ago, I must’ve said something about her, and he’s clung to it. In order to make it be plausible, I’ve run with it. Lies upon lies stack around me regarding this. In so many ways, Misty has become Stella. When I was sad and alone, he assumed it was because of Misty, which in reality, was his sister.

  Some days, I wish I could just tell him.

  Everything.

  It would be so much easier, but the deal we made with Stella’s father is that no one knows. We keep the secret or he’ll ruin me. And he could—easily.

  My prospects would shrivel up. My friends, especially the Parkersons, would disappear and that would ruin me.

  “No, it’s not Misty. She’s not . . . well, it’s nothing about her.”

  “You said as much last night.”

  I glare at him. “Have you always been this annoying?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I must’ve blocked this part of your personality out.”

  He grins. “You’re an asshole when you’re hungover.”

  “You’re an asshole when I’m hungover.”

  “At least we’re consistent.”

  I flip him off. “I’m going home.”

  Amelia comes running into the kitchen. “Uncle Jack, will you play dolls with me? Jessica showed me a new way to make their hair feel soft. We didn’t brush it right the last time.”

  I look to her father for help, but he has that stupid fucking grin as he drinks his coffee.

  She tilts her head, batting those long lashes. “Please, Uncle Jack? I love you so much.”

  “Women learn this really young,” I note aloud.

  “Learn what?”

  I lift her up, eliciting a squeal of delight. “How to get men to do what they want.”

  She giggles and squirms in my arms, and then I spend the next hour playing dolls because at least I can make one woman happy.

  Chapter 10

  Stella

  The last two and a half weeks have been interesting. Since that kiss, I’ve been a mess. I can still feel his lips on mine as though it just happened. The taste of him lingers on my tongue, and the smell of his cologne seems to be embedded in my nose. I hate him and love him all at the same time.

  But I am done being a mess, damn it. I have other things to worry about.

  Two days ago, I got a call from Mickey, saying that Samuel came in this week. He said it wasn’t bad, but he could tell there was a chance it was going that way. He knows the signs, sees guys who come in, thinking they have it under control, only to realize they don’t. It’s a vicious cycle, and Samuel is stuck in it. It also doesn’t help that Samuel isn’t returning my calls—or his brother’s.

  Until he does, there isn’t a whole lot that his brother or I can do.

  All of that has resulted in my being exhausted and done. I want my life to move forward, and it feels as if I’m in neutral.

  “Auntie?” Amelia calls my attention.

  “Yes, Monkey?”

  “Is Daddy going to marry Jessica?”

  Oh, so not going there. “I don’t know, why?”

  “Because I like her.” She takes a heaping spoonful of her ice cream and crams it into her mouth.

  At least my brother is happy, that’s something. “I like her too.”

  “Daddy does too.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  My sweet and loving niece is the only thing that could pull me out of my black mood.

  “Do you think my mommy loves me?” she asks, causing me to jerk back.

  Amelia has never asked me about Yvonne before, and I have no idea what my brother has told his daughter about the woman. “I didn’t really know your mom,” I tell her honestly.

  I don’t think any of us did. I know Grayson wanted to believe they would work, but she was never content. There was never enough money or enough time. She always wanted more, and when she got pregnant, it was as though someone had stolen everything from her.

  The worst part was that she gave Amelia up so easily. I know what it is like to make that impossible choice, but she seemed almost happy to make it. I don’t know if she saw having a child as a burden, but Amelia is not a burden. Not ever.

  “I asked Daddy if Jessica could be my mommy.”

  I smile because I can only imagine how uncomfortable that was for him. “And what did he say?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t remember.”

  I would bet my ass it’s because he didn’t answer.

  “You all finished?” I ask when she starts licking the bowl.

  Amelia looks up with the sweetest expression on her face. “Can I have more?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Then I’m done.”

  I lift her off the tall counter seat and kiss her cheek. “Go get ready for bed.”

  She rushes to her room, which is a guest room that might as well be hers, and a second later, there’s a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anyone, but if the dinner at my parents’ went the way I’m guessing it did, Grayson may want Amelia.

  I open the door, expecting to find an annoyed sibling, only it is not my brother.

  “Hello, Jack. What can I do for you?” I ask acidly, not feeling very kind.

  Jack has done everything he can to pretend I don’t exist and the kiss never happened. I have not been able to do that.

  No, instead, I’m reliving it. Over and over like a damn movie stuck on the same scene.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  Wrong thing to say. “No, you owe me an explanation.”

  He seems taken aback by that. Good. “A what?”

  “An explanation. You know, where you explain why you’re such an asshole.”

  “I know you’re pissed.”

  “Yeah, I am.” There’s no point in denying it. “But more than that, I’m hurt. You do this to me, you know that? I get to a point where it doesn’t hurt, and then something happens, and I’m right back to being that eighteen-year-old girl again.”

  “It’s no different for me.”

  I roll my eyes. “Please, you couldn’t give two shits about me. Anyway, go ahead, I’m waiting for this explanation of how it’s so damn easy for you to care so little. I’d like to know your secret so I can do it myself.” My arms cross against my chest as I wait.

  “Okay, well, I guess it’s because being around you makes me lose my mind. I see you, want you, and know that there’s not a fucking universe that exists where I should have you. I push you away because, if I don’t, I’ll go crazy waiting for something I will never allow myself to have.
You want to know why I do this? Because I have never wanted something so badly as I do you. So, I’m here to apologize because you deserve better.”

  “Better? Better than what?”

  “Than me!”

  I shake my head. “What the hell makes you think there is better? I want you. I have always wanted you. You keep saying better, but you fail to see that you are what’s better for me.”

  Jack runs his hands through his hair, turning before looking into my eyes again. “Are you serious, Stell? You were eighteen and I fucked up your entire life. I took advantage of you that night, and then we had a kid. One we had to give up.”

  “Yes, we had a kid, but you weren’t the one at fault. There were two of us there that night.”

  “I should’ve been a better man.”

  I huff. “Then be the better man now, Jack. Tell me what you truly want.” I step forward. “Tell me how you feel.”

  Jack’s eyes close, and I see that he won’t. “You deserve a man who will slay the dragons, Stella. Not the dragon himself.”

  I open my mouth to say something, anything, but only air escapes. My heart is racing, and I want to grab him and kiss him until he sees that he is the one who slays my dragons.

  “Uncle Jack?” Amelia’s voice is soft, and when I turn to her, she’s running forward, arms wide without a care in the world.

  I step back, giving her room.

  Everything he said is what I’ve wanted to hear from his lips, and I don’t know what to do. I know he wants more, but now the question is . . . can I convince him to do it?

  Jack catches her, kissing her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

  She beams at him. “I’m sleeping over. You should too. We can have a party.”

  “I don’t know that your auntie would like that.”

  Oh, I would very much like a slumber party, without the kid—or clothes.

  “Do you want to?” Amelia asks.

  Please don’t answer that.

  “I’m not sure about sleeping over, but I’d like to stay for a while.”

  Amelia clasps her hands together, her eyes wide with excitement as she turns to me. “Oh, can we?”

  Damn it.

  I know letting him in tonight is the forgiveness he showed up to get. As much as I’d like to push him, punish him the way he’s doing to us, I won’t. Staying mad at him is something I’ve never been good at.

  “Sure. He can come watch a movie.”

  She shimmies until he lets her go, and then her feet are moving at warp speed to get to the couch.

  Jack stands outside the loft. “Are you sure this is okay?”

  I nod. “I’m sure.”

  He moves toward me, and I tense as his lips brush my cheek. He smells so good. His fresh scent fills me, and I stay still, absorbing it.

  “Thanks, Meatball.”

  I groan at the stupid nickname. Not just because I have to hear it from my brothers but because it solidifies what Jack thinks of me. I’m that kid. The little girl who is annoying and likes to tag along whenever I can. I can’t bear hearing it from him.

  “No,” I say, leaning back. “You don’t get to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me your little sister. Make me that girl. I’ve never been that, Jack. I won’t be tonight.”

  He waits a beat, looking at me, and I can almost feel his thoughts rioting through him. “No, you’re not.”

  I want to say more, but Amelia is waiting, and hopefully, after she falls asleep, we’ll be able to talk about everything that’s happening.

  We’re only an hour into the movie, and Amelia is out, leaving Jack and me to suffer through the princess movie she had to watch because she can’t get enough of it. To be young and believe that princes exist.

  Jack moves the blanket up over her a little higher. “She’s so cute when she’s sleeping.”

  “She’s cute all the time.”

  He smiles. “She is.”

  My stupid heart sputters watching him with her.

  “Jack, we need to talk,” I say softly.

  “If it’s about the other night—”

  “It’s not. It’s about Samuel.”

  “Samuel?” he asks, his head pulling back.

  I nod. “Let’s get her to bed first.”

  Jack carries Amelia to her room, and we tuck her in. Jack and I putting a little girl to bed after we watched a movie is so domestic, so perfectly simple of a thing, and it feels natural.

  It could have been us. It should’ve been us. But it isn’t, and I’d do well to remember that.

  As I pull the door closed, I turn to find him already pacing the living room. “What about Samuel?”

  I tell him about my last trip down. He sits, listening as the information pours out. There’s been so much in my head, and I’ve been dealing with it the best I can, but by unpacking all that stress on someone, it’s as if a small weight is lifting with each word.

  After a moment, he lets out a long puff of air and shakes his head. “And he has no one down there?”

  “No, his boss seemed like a great guy when I talked to him, but I don’t know what is going on or if he’s working. He’s not answering my calls. I feel like . . . like we have to do something.”

  “We’re not her parents, Stella. We can’t go down there and make demands or do anything. I’m not sure what exactly you’re expecting.”

  “We have to do something.”

  “No, no we don’t,” he says and gets to his feet. “I haven’t seen that little girl since the day I put her in their arms. I’ve lived and wondered and fucking acted as though this never happened. I did it because I knew we were doing what we had to.”

  “And now? Now she needs us!” I remind him. “She needs someone because she lost her mother and her father is falling apart.”

  Jack’s gaze turns to me. “And you’re going to, what? Sweep in and be the mother she needs? Do you hear yourself, Stella? She doesn’t know you.”

  I fight back the tears and hold on to my anger. “No, but we aren’t those people. The ones who let others suffer because we’re afraid.”

  “Afraid,” he says through a laugh. “I’m past afraid. I’m fucking terrified. Do you understand what we’ve done? Truly. How all of this unravels? Do you get that not only did I sleep with Grayson’s sister on her eighteenth fucking birthday but I also knocked her up?”

  “I was there for it all, in case you forgot. I remember how all of it was.”

  I remember the way he looked at me that night. Like I wasn’t a little girl, but a woman. I remember how he stood there, watching me as I walked to him, placed my hand on his chest, and asked him to kiss me.

  There isn’t a single moment of that night that I don’t remember. The two of us at the inn, escaping the party that I didn’t want to be at.

  But Jack was there, and I would go anywhere he was.

  The feel of his hands on my skin as he pushed the straps of my dress down to kiss me is something I’ll never forget.

  “What are you doing out here?” Jack asked, and I gasped, clutching my hand to my throat.

  “Jack, you scared me.”

  He smiled. “It’s your birthday party, and you’re hiding?”

  I looked back out at the tree line, feeling sad and alone. “It’s quiet out here, and I don’t really want to be at a party with my parents’ friends.”

  I asked for a night with friends. One where we could dance, laugh, and enjoy the fact that Oliver and I turned eighteen. My mother had other ideas and threw me something akin to a coming-out party or whatever she called it.

  Instead of my friends, it was all high-society people who had big money and wore far too much perfume.

  Oliver was off with my brothers, doing God knows what in the woods as some sort of Parkerson boys birthday tradition. I hated them for leaving me behind.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I swallowed deeply and used all the tricks I had acquired to appear indifferent. “I
f you want.”

  Jack sat on the bench next to me and handed me his wine glass. “Want some?”

  “Look at you, corrupting your best friend’s little sister.”

  “I have a feeling that ship sailed.”

  I laughed and took a sip.

  My lips just touched where Jack’s had been.

  I might die.

  Relax, Stella, keep it together, you’re an adult now and starting college soon. Play it cool.

  “So, how is college?” I asked.

  “Good. Ready to start my master’s program.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, Gray told us he’s staying in Charlotte.”

  As though he didn’t know that . . .

  Jack chuckled. “I guess he doesn’t like coming back here.”

  “Reminds him of Jess.”

  He sighed deeply. “I guess so. And what about you? You graduate this month and then where are you off to?”

  “South Carolina.”

  “It’s crazy that you’re going to college.”

  “Why?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, you’ve just always been so young to me, Meatball.”

  I glared at him. “Seriously, I hate Josh for giving me that stupid nickname.”

  “It’s not so bad.” He nudged me playfully. “It could be worse.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  Jack wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close as my teeth chattered. “You’re freezing.”

  I was willing to become a popsicle if it meant Jack’s arm stayed around me. “Temperature dropped fast.”

  He rubbed his hands up and down, trying to warm me. I’d dreamed of this—of Jack realizing that he wanted me. His arms would wrap around me before he admitted to having always wanted me, and then our lips would touch.

  Of course, it didn’t happen, but a girl could dream.

  I leaned into his chest, absorbing the warmth. “Better?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Much,” I said and bit my tongue to stop from saying more. Like how he smelled like spice, whiskey, and heaven.

  That would be a bit much.

  The music played on behind us, stars twinkled above as well as the string lights around the property. It was beautiful and magical, even if it wasn’t what I had wanted.

  “Good. So what did you get for your birthday?”