Reckless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 3)

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  “What, Liam? I don’t need you dumping me again or whatever. I’m going to get my stuff and stay with my brother for a while.” The thought couldn’t thrill me less, but I don’t know what other choice I have. At this point it’s either him or Carson. Though I’m sure my little pipsqueak niece would like to have me stay with her, I doubt my big sis would match the sentiment.

  “I was with Miranda for a long time. We have a long, complicated history together. But the truth is, if Emily were still alive, I’m not sure she and I would even still be together. We’re too different. We grew apart over the years, stopped having things in common. Still, that was a huge part of my life and my marriage just ended. Just because I have a few trinkets stored away in a box in my closet doesn’t mean I’m harboring residual feelings for her. It also doesn’t mean I need to throw everything into the garbage, either.”

  When he puts it like that, I get his point, but my stubborn side doesn’t want to admit it. Instead, I pick at my nail polish, watching it flake away onto the floor.

  “Miranda’s still blackmailing me. I thought I came up with a plan, but it turned out to be pretty half-baked and a lot harder than I thought.”

  “What was it?”

  “It’s why I ended things with you, or whatever you want to call it. I thought if we weren’t together anymore then she’d have nothing to hold over my head.”

  “Seriously!?” I screech. Dammit. How did I not see that coming? “You could’ve at least told me so I would understand and play along. As it stands now, nothing’s changed. She can still blackmail you.” I motion to the fact that I am indeed still here in his place and giving Miranda the ammo she needs.

  “Right, but I have a plan B and I have a feeling this one is going to work out a hell of a lot better than plan A.” I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t offer up anything else. He just watches me and holds my hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back of my palms. His hazel eyes glisten as he gazes into mine and I have to look away from the intensity of it all.

  “Are you going to fill me in on this plan?”

  “Eventually, but for now, I don’t want to waste any more time pretending. I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Flynn. I want to be with you. I’ve been all in since the night I met you,” he eyes me, crinkling his nose. “Don’t leave just because I said something corny.” I throw my head back on a laugh. “Why don’t you stay here? With everything you’re dealing with at home it just makes sense. And…I like having you at my disposal,” he winks.

  I try to contain my smile, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me. He really is…good. “What are you saying?”

  “What I’m saying, Flynn, is that I’m in love with you.”

  Twenty-Three

  Flynn

  “Don’t freak out.”

  Don’t freak out. As if he asked me to pass the parmesan cheese and didn’t declare his love for me. Not long ago, we were in his office as he explained to me my own commitment issues and now he expects me not to freak out?

  I take a deep breath, tying to do what he asked. I need to think about this logically and not let my haywire emotions control me for once.

  From the moment I met Liam Whitmore, I was a fucking goner. Anyone could see that. I’ve been hooked on him like I’ve never latched onto anyone before. He put a spell on me from that first night and I’ve been bewitched ever since. Apparently I’m a fucking sad sap now too.

  But our…relationship is a bit more complicated than normal. Stating the obvious first, he’s my fucking therapist. Only for a few more court-appointed weeks, but still. Then there’s the fact he’s been so hot and cold with me for the entirety of the time I’ve known him.

  Then again, can I blame him? I mean, going back to bullet point numero uno, I’m his goddamn patient. Of course he’s spooked.

  Taking into account our age difference, I could fall into a rabbit hole of all the reasons we wouldn’t work out and therefore shouldn’t even bother.

  I mean, I’m a dependent, highly erratic kid, basically. Sure, to him right now, I’m young and sexy and willing to do things in the bedroom he probably hasn’t even heard of. But I’m surface level. He’s just going to get bored of me, because all people do. Why else would I refrain from relationships altogether? If people don’t get to know me, the real me underneath the hard exterior, then they can’t hate me. The revelation comes out of nowhere and my eyes jerk up to meet his. “I have a deeply harbored desire to be liked.”

  “Okay.” His brows furrow. I’m sure that’s not the response he was looking for after telling me he loved me. A shiver runs up my spine as the words penetrate the ice surrounding my heart. They’re a flame, melting me from the inside out.

  “It just kind of came to me. Just now. After you said…what you said. I think it’s part of the reason I keep everyone at arms’ length. If no one gets under my skin, if no one gets me, there’s no getting hurt. They won’t leave me once they find out I’m nothing special. I’m just a rich girl with material, surface-level problems to match my surface-level personality. There’s no depth here. Just like my friends said.”

  “Your friends said that to you?” I shrug. “Flynn, you’re the most complex person I’ve ever met. I can never get inside your head to know what you’re thinking and feeling. I do believe you keep everyone at bay to protect yourself, but it’s not because people wouldn’t love you. You’re funny and smarter than you give yourself credit for. You can be kind, but you’re stubborn and stuck in your cynical, sarcastic ways. You don’t want people to look at you weird if you give them a compliment or tell someone you love them because they would since it’s so out of place for you. People flock to you, Flynn. I see it. Your friends, they’re jealous. They try to knock you down a peg because they want what you have: the perfect family, money, suitors.”

  “Suitors? What year is it?”

  He smirks. “You deflect and self-deprecate and self-destruct to distract yourself from the reality that everything I’m saying is true.” I look away, but he uses the knuckle of his pointer finger on my chin to draw my eyes back to his.

  “Not everything you said was true.” He waits, knowing I’ll explain. “The family part. It’s not so perfect after all.”

  “Are you ready to talk about it?”

  “There’s not much to say. My dad isn’t my dad. My mom cheated on him with her ex-whatever, a drug addict who overdosed. He’s dead, my dad can’t even look at me, and my mother won’t stop calling me as if an apology will suffice. Oh, I’m so sorry for lying to you and your father and ruining everyone’s life. But can we sit down and talk over tea?”

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard for you to hear. How do you feel about it?” He’s using his doctor voice on me. It’s calm and low while somehow still full of interest.

  “Does this count as a therapy session?” I’m snide, once again, deflecting.

  He shrugs. “I’m sure I can shift some things around. It happens a lot in cases of emergency.”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious how I’m feeling.” I push off the bed and pace the room like I would if we were in his office.

  “Spell it out for me.” I side-eye him. “Humor me, Flynn.”

  I sigh. “Well, to no one’s surprise, I’m fucking angry.” He nods. “How could she lie to me? My whole family treated me like a fucking pariah growing up. I was always the problem child. Everything was my fault. I never fit in. And my mother had the answers all along.”

  “How would things have been different for you if you knew the truth?”

  “Everything would be different,” I scoff. “How could it not be?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Maybe I could’ve been diagnosed sooner and put on meds to balance me out or whatever. I’ve been sick of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin for years.” I may mask it well, but the truth under the surface is I relied on drugs and alcohol to make myself feel whole.

  “That’s a possibility. Can I play devil’s ad
vocate here for a minute?” I nod, but I hate this game. “Do you think things with your father would be any better if he had known the whole time?”

  “I don’t know. We probably wouldn’t have been as close as we were as I was growing up.” Saying that out loud hurts, but not as much as the reality I’m facing now. “But…” I stop.

  “What is it?”

  “But if I wasn’t used to my dad treating me like I was his favorite, it wouldn’t suck so much now with his distance.”

  “Have you tried talking to him?”

  “Not since I left the house.” He nods and reaches for a pen as if to write something down. Once he realizes his mistake, a boyish smirk appears on his face as he shakes his head.

  “Here’s what I propose.” I groan. “If you’re going to be staying with me, you need to get at least some of your things from the house.” I nod skeptically, afraid of where he’s going with this. “Get changed and head home to grab your things. While you’re there, try to talk to your dad. It can’t hurt.”

  I roll my eyes and gather my things. When I realize I don’t have a car, Liam drives me to Carson’s place where I left it last night before I went out with Luke. My sister catches me before I can make a speedy exit—luckily Liam already sped away—and the little twerp runs down the front porch steps to greet me.

  “Auntie Flynn! What are you doing here?”

  “Came to pick up my car.”

  “Is everything okay?” Carson asks as if it’s impossible for her to not be a mother for five minutes.

  “I’m going home to try to talk to dad.”

  “That’s good, Flynn. I’m sure things will be better now that he’s had a day to sit on it.”

  I hope so.

  “What’s wrong?” Ava asks, perceptive to the conversation we’re holding.

  “Well, maybe you can help me.” My niece lights up as if I just told her Elsa and Poppy were coming to her birthday party.

  Ironically, my niece and I are in similar situations, now that I think about it. She’s been raised by someone who isn’t her biological father her entire life. The difference, obviously, is both she and my brother-in-law have been aware of the arrangement from the beginning.

  “What do you do when your dad is mad at you?”

  “He doesn’t stay mad at me for very long. We end up putting a movie on and eating ice cream and staying up late.” She whispers the last part from behind her little hand. “But don’t tell Mom about that.”

  I wink and offer my pinky to swear on it.

  Hopping in my car, I drive away making one pit stop before facing my demons.

  Sweat builds at my hairline as I stand outside my dad’s office. My heart couldn’t beat any harder unless it exploded in my chest. My palms are sweaty as I curl my hand into a fist and knock on the door.

  “Go away, Alice. I’m not ready to talk yet.”

  I push open the door, bracing for the worst. “Are you willing to talk to me?” I show him my peace offerings, a pint of rocky road ice cream and a DVD copy of the re-make of IT. My dad showed me the original as a kid and now it’s an ongoing joke between us.

  The man I’ve looked up to my entire life pinches his eyes shut and runs an exasperated hand across his forehead. “Flynn. I didn’t realize you were home,” he says, eyes still closed.

  I take another step into the office, praying he doesn’t kick me out. “I wanted to talk to you.” I walk up to his desk and place the items I brought with me on the edge. A shadow of a smile appears on his face, but it’s a sad one.

  I take in his appearance and notice how tired and worn he looks. There are circles under his eyes and worry lines marring his forehead. His signature blue eyes are bloodshot and his hair is mussed, probably from running a frustrated hand through the locks.

  “I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” he says without really looking at me.

  “I could say the same to you. I thought you were in on it.”

  “You make it sound like a conspiracy theory.”

  “It kind of was at first. I wish that’s all it was.” He glances up at me, really looking at me for the first time since before everything changed. “I wish it wasn’t true. Everything is different now.”

  His face falls and I’m prepared for him to shatter my heart. “Nothing is different, Flynn. You may not carry my DNA, but you’re still my daughter. I’m the one who taught you to ride a bike. I’m the one who put Band-Aids on your skinned knees, and came to your elementary school play. No matter what your biology says, you’re a Fletcher.”

  Tears blur my vision and for once I don’t try to swipe them away before he catches them. He pushes off his chair and rounds the table to give me a bear hug. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too, Kiddo.” His lips press against the top of my head and a tear falls down my cheek. If my dad can put this aside, so can I. A part of me yearns to know more about my birth dad, but I have all the dad I need right here. He’s the one who’s always fought for me and stood by my side no matter what. Today has solidified that fact.

  “What’s going to happen with you and Mom?”

  “Truth?” I nod into his chest and he takes a step back as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. I can’t talk to her right now.”

  “I hear that.”

  “I’m angry with your mother for not telling me, but I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I love your mother, but this was a blow I wasn’t expecting.” He sits back down in his chair, his face falling in defeat.

  “You could always try therapy. I hear it works for some people.” I crack a smile and he can’t help but smile back.

  “Come on. Let’s go put on this movie. I could use the quality time with my daughter.”

  We grab two spoons from the kitchen on our way to the living room to pop in the DVD. My mother emerges from the upstairs right as the menu pops up to hit play.

  “Flynnie, I didn’t hear you come home. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried sick about you. Why haven’t you been returning any of my calls?”

  “You’re joking, right?” Her frown takes up her entire face and I can barely stomach to look at her. One glance at my dad and I can tell he feels the same.

  “Mind if I join you?” she asks, oblivious to the fact that we’d prefer anything but that.

  “Actually, I do. I want to watch this with my dad. It’s our tradition. We’ll talk later.” I’m lying, of course, but it’s the only thing I can think of right now to get her to go away.

  “You know, your siblings are pissed at me too, if that makes you feel any better.” She scoffs as if she has any right to take a tone with me right now.

  “Actually, it does.” I’m glad Carson, of all people, stood her ground. Since she’s a mother, I know she has a soft spot for these sensitive scenarios. I’m surprised to find out I came out on top in her mind here. Maybe because of my similarity in situation to her daughter, I don’t know.

  “Flynn Elizabeth—”

  “Alice. Another time.” My father’s stern voice shuts her down. I’m glad I’m going to be leaving here soon to stay with Liam.

  “By the way I’m going to be staying with a friend for a while.” Maybe permanently if things go well. “Sorry, Dad,” I whisper so only he can hear. He squeezes my shoulder in return.

  “If you leave, I’m cutting you off.” My mother has some balls, I’ll give her that.

  “Fine. I don’t need your slut money anyway.” She rears back like I’ve slapped her.

  “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” she says to my father.

  “Alice, it’s not your money to cut her off from.” With that, she shuts up and storms upstairs.

  I don’t know what will happen between the two of them, but this is only the beginning.

  Twenty-Four

  Liam

  “We’re coming up to the end of our sessions. How are you feeling?” It’s been several weeks since Flynn started coming to see me and now she’s been on t
he meds for a few weeks. I’ve noticed slight differences in her, but I don’t think she’s caught onto them yet.

  “For once, I feel good.” She smiles and it’s infectious.

  A large part of me cannot wait until she’s done being my patient. It’s tricky, though. Just because our court-appointed sessions are fulfilled doesn’t mean she’s done needing help. I’m the best thing for her, but I’m hoping to be that person for her without being her actual doctor on paper.

  Once she’s no longer my patient, my plan can fully begin. It’s in the works at the moment, but nothing can change until we finish our sessions. Then I can have her all to myself in a romantic capacity.

  “How are things with your parents?” I reroute my thoughts back to work which is a difficult feat when I’m with Flynn. She’s wearing a loose dress and every time she crosses and uncrosses her legs I catch a glimpse of her white panties. I’m sure she’s doing it on purpose.

  “Things with my dad are better. My mom…not so much. I don’t think either of them are even talking to each other yet, which is going to be very interesting in the next few weeks.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Lucas’ wedding is coming up.”

  “I see. What do you want to happen with your parents?”

  She rolls her neck like she’s rolling the question around in her head. She’s contemplative and starts toying with the gold necklace adorning her neck.

  “I don’t want them to separate. As pissed as I am at my mom, I’ve already lost so much because of all this bullshit. I mean, my siblings are only half my siblings. My dad isn’t my dad. My identity, though already thin, has shattered. I understand where my dad is coming from and that he’s furious with her. I don’t blame him at all, but…I also want it to be over with, you know? I’m a little sick of the fighting and the subsequent indifference. I want them to hash it out and move on. They’re strong enough, I believe that. They’ve been together a million years already. I think they can get over this hiccup.”