I Knead You Tonight

by Hunter, Teagan

  My immediate thought is to say no, to refute his offer like I’ve already done.

  But he’s making many valid points.

  It would save me money, yes, but would living with Winston save my sanity? Admittedly, these last few weeks have been better between us, but that could easily be attributed to me not being here all that often.

  I don’t want to bank my future on a few good weeks.

  If I’m going to do this—go to school, work, and care for my son—I’ll need stability.

  I don’t know if Winston’s ready for that kind of commitment.

  “You keep trying to convince me to stay forever and a girl might start thinking there’s something more to your proposal.”

  “Maybe there is.”

  He sets his ice cream down on the railing then grabs mine from my hand and does the same. He pulls me toward him, his hands cupping my face and bringing it up to his.

  “What?” I whisper when he doesn’t say anything, just bores his eyes into mine.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  The words fall out of my mouth with ease, like missing Winston is the most natural thing in the world.

  He runs his thumbs over my cheeks, his touch so gentle, so sweet.

  The gentle strokes make my heart thump thump thump in my chest.

  When he touches me softly like this, it feels like he’s touching my soul.

  “What are we doing, Winston?”

  “I don’t know anymore.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know that anymore either.”

  I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I’m scared.”

  “Of what? Me?”

  “Of us. We’re just so…” I shake my head. “When we’re good, we’re explosive. When we’re not…well, it sucks.”

  “Everyone has their ups and downs.”

  “But we have more downs than ups.”

  “That’s not true,” he argues, pulling my eyes back to his. “We’ve been doing great these last few weeks.”

  “Because I’ve been gone.”

  “Or because we’re growing.”

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s not.

  Am I willing to take a huge chance and find out?

  “All I know, Drew, is that I like you. I like spending time with you. I like spending time with your son, and I don’t hate the idea of doing so for a long time.”

  “I don’t hate that idea either,” I admit. “Remember that first night we almost slept together?”

  “You mean when you were too afraid to admit you wanted me?”

  “Yes, that night. Do you remember what you said to me?”

  “What about it?”

  “If you aren’t one hundred percent certain you want to do this with me and not just because it feels good to have someone here, walk away. We can go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. I’m really good at faking it until I make it.” I place my hand over his heart, feeling it beat wildly beneath my palm. Mine’s doing the same thing. “Because if we do this, Winston, if we say we’re together and we take that next step, there’s no turning back, no pretending this didn’t happen. I’ll get attached. Riker will get attached. You’ll get attached, and if the bottom drops out from underneath us, we’re both screwed. You have to be sure you’re ready for this, because you’re not just taking on me. It’s my son too. This isn’t playing house. This is for real. Are you ready for that? Are you ready for us?”

  He opens his mouth, but I shake my head.

  “No. Don’t say anything right now. This can’t be a hasty, in-the-moment decision. I need you to think about this, long and hard. Let it percolate for at least forty-eight hours before you give me an answer.”

  He nods. “Fine, I can do that. But, Drew?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You said long and hard.”

  I crack a smile. “I still hate you.”

  “I still hate you too.”

  Slice Eighteen

  Winston

  “Is it April Fool’s Day or something?”

  “No.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing here at this hour? You’ve been late to work plenty of times, but never early.”

  I grunt at my father’s attempt to be funny. “Don’t quit your day job, Pops. Comedy is not your strong suit.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m hilarious. My employees laugh at my jokes all the time. And besides, Beth thinks I’m a hoot. Right, hon?”

  My dad’s girlfriend smiles. “Right.”

  “Your employees laugh because they’re afraid you’ll fire them. Beth laughs because you’re knocking boots.” I wink at her. “Right, hon?”

  Beth tries to hold in her laugh, because we both know I’m right.

  “You”—he points to Beth—“are so on my shit list now.”

  “I’m shaking in my boots,” she taunts.

  “They the same ones you wear when we’re knocking them?” He waggles his brows at her.

  “Ugh, Dad.” I gag. “Can you just not?”

  He laughs. “Where’s your sister? She’s my new favorite. You’re no fun.”

  “She’s always your favorite, you mean,” I say, taking a seat across from him in his office.

  His brows lower and he frowns. “That’s not true. I love you both equally…in general.”

  “In general? Oh, please elaborate. I’m dying to hear exactly what that means.”

  Beth squeaks and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll leave you two be. This sounds like it might get serious.”

  She gives me a wave and closes the door behind her, leaving my dad and me alone.

  “I just mean your sister is a little more…pleasant to deal with on most days.”

  “So what you mean to say is I’m a dick?”

  “Yes.”

  I sputter out a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Hey, that’s no one’s fault but your own.”

  “Drew thinks I’m a grump too.”

  “She isn’t wrong,” he agrees, shuffling some papers around. “How’s that going, by the way? Her living there with her son and all, I mean.”

  I’m not stupid. I can read between his words.

  He wants to know what’s up between us.

  “You already know I like her, so just ask me what you want to ask me and stop beating around the bush.”

  “Yes, we established that long ago when you showed up with bruised knuckles after you beat the shit out of that deadbeat ex of hers. You ever tell her about that?”

  “I told her as much as she needs to know.”

  He nods, accepting my answer. He wasn’t happy with me resorting to violence, but I don’t think he was as opposed to it as he should have been either.

  Drew is like a daughter to him, and he wanted to punch that dickbag Chadwick too.

  “Are you freaking out having her there? Taking on raising a child is a big deal. Is that something you really want to do?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think or you know so? Drew doesn’t have a choice in raising her son. You do, so you better be real damn sure it’s what you want. If it’s not, pull back before you get too attached.”

  “Funny, she basically said the same thing to me last night. You two been talking?”

  “No. She has no idea I know about you guys.”

  “Good, because I’m pretty sure she’d chop my balls off, and I’d rather that not be a thing. I’m kind of attached to them.”

  My dad snorts. “Literally. Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come in just to shoot the shit with your old man. What’s up, son?”

  My nerves start to get the better of me and I bounce my knee up and down as a distraction.

  I’ve been thinking about what Drew said over twenty-four of the forty-eight hours, hours I don’t actually need.

  I already know I want to do this with her. I’ve known I want to. I’ve just been waiting on her to catch up.
/>
  Now that she’s there, I know she’s not going to just take my word for it, know I need to show her she can depend on me and I’m not the same grumpy bum she’s always known me as. I need to show her I have drive, I’m reliable, and she can count on me.

  I’m still scared shitless about taking the next step, worried I’ll wake up one day hating the thing that brings me so much joy, but the thought of doing anything else scares me too.

  So I guess I’ll just have to take my chances and go for it.

  The only way I’ll find out if I’m going to fail is to try, right?

  I blow out a steadying breath. “I was, uh, I was actually wondering if I could maybe do a shoot in the pizzeria.”

  “Like a photoshoot? What for?”

  “For me.”

  “You want to take pictures of yourself in the pizzeria?” He leans across the desk. “Do you mean, like, a sexy photoshoot? Is this a weird kink you and Drew are into? Boudoir pizzeria shots?”

  I bark out a laugh. “No. That is definitely not something we’re into. At least I don’t think we are.”

  “Oh.” My father sits back. “Good. Because that’d be weird if your mom and you were into that.”

  “Dad!” I groan.

  He shrugs. “What? Your mom was a wild card.”

  “Please. Just stop.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m being serious here.”

  “I am too.” He grins. “Okay, fine. What’s this photoshoot idea you have?”

  “Well, it’s not actually for me. It’s for my…well, my business.”

  His brows shoot up. “Your business?”

  “Yes.”

  “For photography?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  He stares at me, and it’s unsettling.

  It’s the same look Randy gave me when I pulled him aside earlier this week and told him I’d love to shoot him and Blythe.

  Granted, his mind didn’t go straight to photography, so he was really confused about why I was threatening him.

  But that’s beside the point.

  I squirm uneasily in the usually comfortable chair, my dad’s stare burning through me. “Are you going to say anything other than oh, or is that all you’ve got?”

  “Sorry, I’m just surprised is all. You’ve always been so…shy about it.”

  “I have not.”

  “Yes, you have, which has always seemed silly to me because you’re clearly extremely talented.”

  “You have to say crap like that—you’re my dad.”

  “I am? Dammit, your mom never said I was Wren’s dad and yours. That’s bullshit.”

  “Your jokes are getting worse by the minute.”

  He smirks. “All right, fine. I guess what I’m saying is, I’m proud of you. It’s about damn time, kid.”

  “Can we not make a big deal about this?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who walked in here being all serious and asking me permission like this isn’t your restaurant too.”

  “But it’s not.”

  “It’s a family restaurant. You’re my family. Therefore, it’s your restaurant.”

  He’s got me there.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were actually coming here to get my approval.”

  “Pfft. I don’t need your approval.”

  “No, but you want it.”

  He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

  “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, kid. But, in case I wasn’t clear, the answer is yes. You are more than welcome to use the shop.”

  “Thanks, Pops. You’re the best dad I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m your only dad.”

  “As far as you know.” I push up out of the chair. “Well, I’m gonna get going. I have some stuff I gotta take care of before my shift. Oh, I almost forgot—I’ll be late later.”

  “I am shocked,” my dad deadpans. “Just shaken to my core.”

  I turn when I’m in the doorway. “Is Wren still your favorite now that I’m doing my photography thing for legit income?”

  “No, you’re definitely my favorite kid now.”

  “What the shit, Dad!” my sister yells, storming past me and into the room.

  I leave them there to duke it out.

  * * *

  “So you’re really doing this, huh?”

  “I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?” I lower my camera to scowl at my best friend, who has insisted on hovering around me during this entire shoot. “You’re in my shot.”

  “I am not. I’m standing like a billion feet away from you.”

  “Your shadow is.”

  “Just Photoshop it out.”

  “Foster, I’m doing you a solid right now, and I will stab you. Move.”

  “Do you talk to all your clients this way?”

  “You’re not paying me,” I remind him. “You’re not my client right now. You’re still just a friend. Murder is totally a viable option.”

  He nods. “That sounds fair.”

  I take a few more shots of the landscaping he’s done to Wren’s front lawn. It’s nothing over the top, but it’s clean and easy to take care of. People around here will eat this shit up. I’ve been following him around all week taking pictures of the few jobs he’s done so he can add them to his website because my boy has his own business now.

  Kids grow up so fast these days.

  “So, what’s up?” he asks, offering me a beer after I’ve finished shooting.

  I wave him off, grabbing for a bottle of water since I have a shift at Slice I should be running off to. “What do you mean?”

  “Why the sudden change of heart about shooting for cash?”

  I raise a shoulder. “Just figured it’s time.”

  “Right, and none of this has anything to do with a certain someone living with you now? She hasn’t…inspired you to finally get off your ass and do something?”

  “By ‘inspired,’ you do mean berated me over and over until I finally gave in?”

  “Yes.”

  I glare at him. “She’s not not inspiring me.”

  He laughs. “That’s what I thought. I could kiss the girl for getting you to do what you should have been doing for years.”

  “Funny coming from you, the guy who bailed across the country to marry a girl he barely knew.”

  “Hey, dude, you know I had my reasons.”

  “Are you out here talking about kissing other girls?” Wren comes walking up the pathway to her house, eyes locked on us sitting on Foster’s tailgate. “Because that’s grounds for divorce, Foster.”

  “You can’t divorce me when we’re not even married yet.”

  “Only because you’re still being a big baby about the wedding.”

  Foster sighs. “Drop it, Wren.”

  “Fine,” she settles. “But at least tell me who you’re out here talking about kissing. I need to know who my competition is and if I should be hitting the weights a little harder or not.”

  “Drew.”

  My sister’s eyes flit to me, and a grin slowly pulls across her lips. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you two to start banging.”

  The sip of water I just took comes pouring out of me, dribbling down my chin in a wet mess. “What the fuck, Wren?”

  “What? I’m just saying, your sexual tension has always been palpable. You two walk around pretending to hate each other all the time when all you really want to do is…” She humps the air. “Going at it like a bunch of damn bunnies, probably. And I’m glad. It was starting to get really old.”

  I shoot daggers at Foster. “Did you tell her?”

  He holds his hands up in innocence. “I didn’t say a peep.”

  “Wait a minute—you knew they were banging?”

  “Well…” Foster grins. “I knew they were fingerbanging.”

  “Foster!” I growl.

  “What? If you didn’t want people to know, you shouldn’t have snuck off during a damn baby shower to get down and dirty.”

&nbs
p; Wren gasps. “Oh my god. You two banged at the baby shower?”

  “No.”

  “They were fingerbanging.”

  “Goddammit, Foster!” I shove him off the tailgate, and his laughing form crumples to the ground.

  My shoulder pops—loudly.

  Pain shoots up and down my arm, all the way to the tips of my fingers.

  It’s bad. Worse than it’s ever been before.

  Tears spring to my eyes and I try to blink them back, not wanting to cry in front of Foster and Wren.

  Maybe they didn’t even hear it.

  “Was that what I think it was?”

  Wren’s eyes are on mine, and they’re full of fire.

  Okay, so maybe they did hear it.

  “Dude, Winston, that can’t be natural, man,” Foster says, pushing himself up off the ground, staring at me with the pity I hate so much.

  “It’s not,” I say, rubbing at my shoulder. “But I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. That is not fine. Your eyes wouldn’t be all bloodshot right now like you’re trying not to cry if you were fine.”

  “Let it go, Wren.”

  “No, dammit! I won’t.” She stomps toward me, not stopping until her knees are touching mine. She has one hand on her hip, and the other is pointing a finger in my face. “You need help, Winston. You need to get back to your doctors because that is not okay. If you aren’t going to do it for yourself, at least do it for the girl you’re in love with.”

  My brows shoot up, and she rolls her eyes.

  “I’m not stupid, Win. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her since she breezed into our lives. You’ve always had a thing for her. I just assumed it was because she has an amazing personality and is hot as fuck. I didn’t realize your feelings were deeper until you moved her into your house. That was a dead giveaway because you don’t let anyone into your house.”

  “Not true. I let Sully in.”

  “Because you saw something in him. You needed him at that point in your life, just like you need Drew.”

  “I don’t need Drew.”

  “Maybe not, but you want her.” Foster smirks. “You want her bad.”

  “Shut up,” I grouse.