by Kat Kenyon
“I already told you that.” Not that it made a difference.
Sighing, he nods. “I know.”
Tyler squeezes my hand when I startle. “So he’s being arrested?”
Looking at Tyler, he answers, “No.”
“So, I’ll fucking take care of him.”
“No.” Two palms face us both, pleading. “We’re taking care of it. You will absolutely not get involved.”
“How are you taking care of it?” I ask, clinging to Tyler’s hand.
He hesitates, watching Tyler’s hard face. “We’ve tried calling him, but he hasn’t answered, nor have his parents returned our messages. He’s been given more than enough warnings, and this time, he’s done. We’re filing his expulsion papers this week. He won’t be here to bother you anymore.”
Tyler drops my hand and leans forward, sliding his huge hands across the dean’s desk. “He needs to be arrested. He’s assaulted her, he’s threatened her, and this—” He flicks the report under the dean’s hands. “This is proof. He’s on camera, isn’t he?”
Pulling the paper away, the dean sits straighter. “I understand you want to get back at him.” He looks at me, eyes skittering back to the giant at my side glaring holes in his head.
“I don’t want to get even, I want to be safe,” I say.
“And you will be.”
Tyler scoffs and leans back. “If he hasn’t stopped yet, what makes you think he’ll stop now?”
“With the expulsion, he’ll have no cause to be here.”
“Except—” Tyler points at me, teeth grinding. “Her.”
“Mr. Blackman, since he won’t be a student, we can ban him from campus. Miss Mathews, I’ll add a campus-wide ban to the papers, we owe you that much.”
“Your rules don’t stop reporters or photographers, why would they stop him?”
“He’ll be arrested if he comes on campus. He’s not going to risk his future like that.”
Dean Lister looks convinced when he says it, but I’m not. Shaking my head, I don’t know what to say. “You don’t know him.”
“But we know his family, and between us and them, we’ll make sure you’re okay.”
Tyler snorts, and the two face off, anger and exasperation competing.
“We’ll take care of this. You’ll be safe. We’re expelling him, and we’ll ban him. I promise, we’re taking care of it,” the dean assures me.
Tyler’s hand finds mine again, his strength almost flowing through the connection. I’m silent for a moment. This is the first time anything has ever come of Gabe’s actions. A wave of relief washes over me. Freedom from him is actually happening.
“I don’t ever want to see him again. Please make sure he never comes on campus again.” I stand and drag my simmering boyfriend behind me.
“We’ll take care of it,” he answers as we open the door.
Tyler pauses and turns back. “If you don’t, I will.”
• • • •
The last few days have been magical, yet nerves are making my stomach twist. We’ve spent days hibernating, reacquainting ourselves with each other, and I’m a little stunned at the changes in him.
“Are you sure she won’t mind?”
“She won’t mind.”
He’s laughing at me, but he looks so happy, I don’t care. “When I told her you were coming, she was ecstatic. I think her exact words were, “Tell her she better be here.” Trust me, she’ll be happy to see you.”
He’s still funny, cocky, smart, but now, he doesn’t look away when we talk about the hard stuff. He’s with me, holding me emotionally to the ground, to him. It’s exhilarating.
The divorce hurts him. He feels guilty, but he’s able to tell me about it, explain how ugly it’s going to get. He plans to stay out of it because he knows why it had to happen. Richard Blackman left Leslie no choice, given how he acted, and Tyler’s siding with his mom. And she sides with his relationship with me.
He’s got a plan.
He asked me what I wanted, and we’re both going to work so we both get what we want, what we need, and end up together.
I’m amazed.
I’ve had a lot of reconnecting to do lately. First Corey, and Tyler, then Anne.
It was a rough conversation with her. I sent her all the reports, phone and text records, everything. It was a huge box. She’s upset I didn’t tell her before, a lot angrier than I expected. She expected me to tell her as soon as he hurt me. She plans to keep up pressure on the school, but she let me know she’d figure out the next best course of action.
In the meantime, she sent enough money that I don’t have to work at all next semester. She sent so much; I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.
I think she would’ve hired security if she could, but good luck explaining what a freshman college girl needs with protection to Gramps.
She wants me to live in a secure location. She’s concerned the dorms aren’t good enough, and I’m still trying to convince her I’m better off with tons of people around, but she wants to discuss it after she talks to her people.
She doesn’t understand that until Gabe realizes we’re done, there is no secure area. I just haven’t figured out how to get him to see it’s over. And the package and text scare the shit out of me. The only thing keeping me upright and not curled up in a ball is Tyler. I’m good because of Tyler.
The hotel elevator dings and a few people get out while we get on. Putting my back to his chest, he wraps his arms around me. Brushing a kiss along the top of my head, he hums into my hair.
“What?” I ask, as he full-body exhales, full of peace. I want to roll around in it.
“I’m just good, that’s all.”
“Yeah?”
I glance back at him and he smiles, saying, “Yeah. You’re here. Mom’s here. I’m good.”
I feel his happiness as he tucks me under his arm. It wipes away my ugly thoughts before the doors open again. He’s all affection as he kisses my head again, walking me toward the hotel restaurant.
Leslie is sitting at a table by the windows. In a dark red dress, she doesn’t look anything like she did before. She looks gorgeous, and like Tyler in so many ways. The relaxed mom from the first dinner is gone, transformed into a sleek, powerful woman, who stands and hugs both of us.
“I’m so glad you came, Rayne. I couldn’t have been happier to hear you were back. When Tyler said he’d been able to make a proper apology and you’d accepted, I was thrilled.” Her smile is infectious. “Okay, you two, sit, sit,” she says, waving us forward.
He holds his mom’s chair for her, then mine, and unbuttons the tailored black suit jacket. He settles in beside me, stroking my arm, the suit pants perfectly appropriate and yet sexy as hell, as they form around his massive thighs and narrow hips.
We both dressed up for the five-star meal, and it’s a lot more elegant than I’m used to, but I’m comfortable. Because of him. Because he grabs my hand and kisses my fingertips with a smile. The connection between us is electric, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
“So, Rayne.” Leslie’s voice cuts through the hold he has on me.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
She laughs as we both turn our attention back to her. She looks genuinely entertained by us. “No, don’t apologize. Seriously. And honey, that’s exactly how you should always treat her.”
Her smile at Tyler is pure love. Something I never got from my mom. She’s failed him before, but it seems like she’s trying now.
Tyler kisses my temple. “That’s my plan,” he whispers, before releasing me as the server comes with water, bread, and a small appetizer.
“Okay, so Rayne, how did your classes end?”
“Good. I’m holding my scholarship in dance without a problem.”
Finals were emotionally draining, and life kicked my ass, but I did it.
“That’s great.”
“You should have seen her, Mom. She was amazing at her performance. It was sp
ectacular.” Tyler’s voice breaks at the end.
Even though we weren’t together, he came, and he tried to protect me. Maybe not in the best way, but the best way he could. I lean into him and kiss his jaw.
“Okay, you two. Enough. Save the kissy-kissy for your room.” Leslie leans back and smiles. “I have tickets for a show.”
Watching her laugh and clap her hands together as she tells us the plans for the day, I notice her get excited, get haunted, then shake it off. I recognize the pattern, because I do it, too.
Breakfast is decadent and passes too fast, the rest of the day passing in laughter and jokes. Leslie never mentions her husband, and neither does Tyler.
We top it all off at The Nutcracker where I cry watching the dancers, and when Tyler and I head to bed, there’s a glow across us both. He kisses and strokes me in the shower and then slowly makes love to me. I’m peacefully asleep the moment he lets me pass out in his arms.
• • • •
His breathing is slow and deep, and he’s wrapped around me in his sleep. Nestled between my legs and resting on my chest, with his arms hooked up and over my shoulders, he’s latched on to me. His weight’s a welcome pressure, keeping me safe.
He is bliss.
It’s been like this since he stepped through the door. Even in sleep, he leaves no space, not an inch between us. It’s like he can’t bring himself to give up a moment unless he absolutely has to.
The moment I try to shift, he lifts up on his elbows and gazes down. I just woke up, so I’m still half-asleep, but he’s awake, and his body is clearly ready for me to get with the program.
“Morning,” I whisper, my voice huskier than normal from sleep.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” he says, pressing his lips to mine.
This is first time I remember waking up to a truly happy Christmas. I’m beyond happy, beyond tears. I want to feel every inch of him. I love him, and I know he sees it.
I close my eyes and revel in his feel and taste. I wrap my arms around his neck and feel him sink back down on me, his kiss and the slow slide of him, bringing me wide awake.
“You look frisky.”
“I’ve been awake for a while. See anything else?” he asks.
“Yeah, a happy boy.”
His voice lowers as his forehead meets mine. “Happy man.”
And it’s true. He’s grown up these last few months. He’s not the boy he was.
“Agreed. A happy man.” I tilt and steal the kiss I’m desperate for. “My happy man.”
“All yours,” he says, making my smile bigger.
I love hearing it, and it makes me want. Makes me need. My hands curl, and I trail my nails down his spine. I know how to get exactly what I want.
“Mine?” I hum, trailing my teeth and tongue over his shoulder.
“Yes.” His hips curl under and he slides his stiff length across my clit, making us both shiver.
“Sure?”
“Fuck, yeah,” he groans as he slips inside me. The mutual hiss of satisfaction from both of us is a guarantee of screaming climaxes.
Digging my nails into his ass, I lick him, then look him in the eyes. “Then show me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tyler Blackman
I make love to her again in the shower. I kiss every inch of her while stroking towels across her skin. The ease of soft touches, while she slips on clothes, permeates my cells, making my body hum. The feel of her fingers, delicate between mine, is what I thought I lost.
I’m so fucking grateful.
Several gift bags are in one hand and Rayne’s in the other when we walk out of our room. Mom’s suite is one floor up, so it’s a short trip up, and the closer we get, the more Rayne seems to fidget.
When the door opens, Rayne’s hand tenses. The room is massive, with a full living room and two bedrooms, and decorated with towering Christmas trees stuffed full of presents.
I have no idea if she called ahead with instructions or not, but the whole space looks like something Mom would do.
I give Rayne a smile. She gets nervous in situations like this, feeling like she doesn’t fit, but she’s mine, my family, and she belongs here.
Mom hugs her as we come in.
“You two are late.” Mom’s eyebrow cocks, teasing and amused.
We were supposed to be here hours ago for breakfast, but it’s more like brunch now. And I don’t feel even a little guilty for getting a late start. I’m not skipping taking care of my girl ever again. My time with her is precious, and I’ll defend it every time.
“Sorry, Leslie,” Rayne says, blushing.
“I’m not.” I match my mom’s eyebrow.
She knows where I stand, and I’m not about to tame my feelings now. But she’s not asking me to, instead, she just rolls her eyes and makes a call.
The food arrives a short time later, and we dig in, getting through a massive amount of it. Both Rayne and I are recharging, getting good food in us, and after we’re done, we kick back and relax in one of the huge couches.
Mom disappears into the bedroom and comes out with a Santa hat and ridiculous elf slippers.
She’s done this since I was a kid. When I was smaller, I helped, but she likes handing out presents and watching the reactions. She found joy in it.
If you were at our house during the week of the holiday, you got something, and Mom lit up when you opened it. I don’t think she cared if she got something. In her mind, she had everything she wanted, but she’d freak if she thought she might forget someone.
Mom starts today’s giveaway, dropping boxes and bags in front of us, Rayne transfixed at the rapidly gathering pile of presents in front of her. She didn’t expect anything. She never does, and she looks like she’s going to panic.
“Baby, this is what she does.” I keep my voice low, trying not to draw Mom’s attention.
“I only got her one present.” Rayne’s embarrassment is clear, and I’m not sure how to fix it.
“Oh, sweetheart, Ty’s right, you didn’t need to get me anything.” Mom drops another bag in front of me and pats her leg.
Shit, not quiet enough.
I’d laugh at Rayne’s pink cheeks, but I don’t want her uncomfortable. She’s really cute when she’s embarrassed, but not here. I know it’s bad when her eyes drop and I’m cut off.
I give her hand a squeeze. Her eyes come back.
Good.
I grin at her, hoping to make her feel better. “I only got her two and I’m her son. She shops because she likes to.”
Mom flops between us, almost sitting on both of our laps. She throws her arms over both our shoulders and laughs.
“I do! And, sweetheart, I don’t get to shop for girls, this was so much fun.”
Mom practically shivers with excitement. “Do you know how boring it is never to be able to buy pink, or purple? Ugh. I love you, Ty, but, sometimes, I really wanted to have a girl to put a tutu on.”
I choke on my laugh. “That why you made me take dance lessons?”
“Well, no. Those were good for you. I didn’t even put you in tights like the instructor wanted. But, if you’d had a sibling, I’d have wanted a girl. Tutus and flowers. Now, I have Rayne. I get to buy girlie stuff to my heart’s delight.”
She launches herself to standing and grabs her own presents. Sitting in a loveseat across from us, she wraps herself in a throw like a burrito, looking more like herself than she has in a couple months. The mom of my childhood.
But, I know that just under the surface, under the seemingly still waters, there’s a deadly riptide working. For every text Dad sends, Mom retaliates with a new demand.
“Mom, thanks. Love you.”
“I love you too, honey.” She smiles happily and waves at us to start.
I start tearing into my stack and tip my head to Rayne. She hesitates until she gets a verbal okay from Mom.
In my stack are clothes, gift cards, new headphones, a new backpack, and a new watch. And she was just as ge
nerous with Rayne.
It’s fun to watch the look on Rayne’s face as gift cards, cashmere and silk, electronics, and random smelly stuff pile around her. This isn’t what she’s used too, but it’s what she’ll have from now on.
Our days, these holidays, our future will be bigger. More love, more family, and friends.
When Rayne gets to my present and I get to hers, we each turn to my mom.
“Your turn,” I tell her.
I’m breaking tradition with my gift, kinda, and Mom tears up as soon as she opens it.
Mom was always separated from my sports life. It was something my dad kept between us. It was Dad’s thing. Now, it’s hers. The first thing she finds in the box is the bowl tickets she couldn’t get. The second is what she’s always asked for but never gotten: my signed jersey.
Her tears kill me. I can’t believe I didn’t do it before now. I never should have let Dad take this away from the two of us.
“Love you, Mom.” My voice breaks a bit. I’m as much to blame for our distance as anything she ever did.
“Oh, honey.” Her eyes meet mine, full of love and tears.
“Sorry it took so long.”
She smiles and nods, hugging the jersey to her chest. She understands. Turning to Rayne, I nod at the small box in her hand. “Now you.”
She eyes hers with trepidation. I’m not sure if she’s afraid of what’s in there, or what’s not in there. Regardless, she gives me a soft smile as she carefully pulls open the paper, trying not to tear it the same way she has the others.
When she opens the blue box, her hand flies to her mouth, eyes filling. I watch them pool and fall. Beautiful blue eyes meet mine as she subtly shakes her head.
Mom helped me with this, or I would never have found her present. The one-carat diamond earrings are set in polished platinum stars. They shine, but not like she does. They aren’t enough.
“I already know you like ’em. So, put ’em in.” I meet her tears with a giant smile. “I wanna see how they look.”
My girl can’t speak, so I reach for her and kiss her gently, salt tangy on her lips. Mom laughs as Rayne relaxes under my kiss, gripping onto my arms hard. With shaking hands, she pulls them out of the puffed velvet and stares at them in fascination as they catch light and blaze.
