by M. J. Fields
“So”—Harper smiles—“how are things at Woods and Associates?”
“I’m happy to have a job, but not happy that, after seven years, I am not arguing a case in front of a judge and jury. I know I have to prove myself and that it’ll take time, but I get a little tired of reading over old rulings.”
“You still glad you went into criminal law?”
“I am.” I smile. “And you? Tell me what keeps you busy all day besides this little one and her daddy?”
“Maddox and I have been trying to narrow down where we want to start our charity. We have decided that it will definitely be helping victims of sex trafficking to rebuild their lives. We also have decided that he and I shouldn’t be hands-on. We’ll do fundraising and awareness for a few years to get things off the ground. But as this little one gets older”—she tickles Piper—“we really don’t want her to know everything about his past and the hell he lived or what we went through a couple years ago. We want to let her grow up without a care in the world. Plus, it hasn’t been easy trying to find people we trust who aren’t family to run an organization and take care of things the way we want them to be taken care of. But we’re hopeful.”
“And his music?”
“That’s where our fundraising efforts are going to be focused. He says he doesn’t like the stage, but he’s so talented, and obviously, it is a part of who he is.” She looks behind her where Maddox stands, his eyes trained on her, and smiles. He doesn’t smile, but he lights up for her in a much different way.
She turns and looks back at me. “When are you coming home?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Have you been talking to my dad?”
“No, I miss you,” she replies.
“I’m very adamant that I am going to make it on my own. After that, I hope to someday very soon come back here and maybe settle down.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“I’ve dated … a lot.”
“Anyone you think maybe …?”
“No. Can you believe that in a city with eight and a half million people, there has not been one I look at and think, that’s the kind of man I want?”
She laughs. “Do you know what kind of man you want?”
“I think I do.”
“Do tell.”
“Someone strong and smart. Someone who, when I look at them and they look at me, we know we are meant to be one another’s forever. Someone who has lived and knows who they are. Someone who can look at me and know who I am and doesn’t want to change me. Someone who feels like they should be family immediately. Someone I can trust to have me emotionally as well as take me to the moon physically.”
“And someone your father approves of,” Dad says, sitting next to me.
“Pop-pop,” Piper says, smiling at him.
“Pip-pip,” he chimes back, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Presents?” she asks him.
He sighs and looks at Harper. “What do you say? I think she’s been patient enough, don’t you?”
“I think you just want to open gifts, Lucas.” She chuckles.
He laughs. “Hell yes, I do.”
When they announce that it’s gift time, we all walk into the house. It is a rule in this family that no gift cards can be exchanged. The adults—adults being college age and above—draw names on Thanksgiving. I happened to draw Harper’s name. She’s getting the same shoes I am currently wearing.
After gifts and a few glasses of wine, I feel a little better. Luke has avoided me, and honestly, it doesn’t seem weird. Hell, it’s normal.
What’s not normal is that, after a get-together like this, I used to know he would end up in my bed. When he was home, it was a Christmas tradition.
After everything is cleaned up, everyone heads back to the garage, and I head to the bathroom. When I come out, Luke is waiting outside.
I look up, and he looks down.
“Excuse me,” I say when he stands, unmoving.
“Yeah, sure,” he huffs yet doesn’t move.
“Is there a problem?”
He looks at me and finally shakes his head then steps aside.
I’m glad he gave me space to get by, but it takes me a moment to move. I desperately want him to say he was sorry, that he woke up ill-tempered or confused. I want him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.
The party is dying down when I go to look for Logan, who has made himself scarce this evening, spending much of the time on the phone, to see if I can get a ride. I want Dad to stay here with his wife.
“Have you seen Logan anywhere?” I ask London as she and the rest of her family are about to walk out the door.
“Wherever he is, he has his phone glued to his ear, and he’s avoiding—”
“London,” Emma whispers.
“It’s true,” London gasps.
I can’t help smirking. London and Logan are either gonna end up at war when she gets older or married. I have never told either of them that I think that, and I am not planning on it. If it isn’t obvious, I don’t feel confident about my insight on love right now.
FIVE
* * *
It’s better to walk away knowing you tried your best, rather than staying and being bitter from loves failures.
— Phoenix Soy
I open my eyes and look at the hot pink alarm clock that I have had since I was sixteen when pink became cool again. It’s six in the morning, which means I have slept for three hours. I’m exhausted emotionally and, because of that, physically.
I sit up and look around my room. It’s much different than my 6th Avenue brownstone apartment in Midtown, Manhattan. My apartment is full of windows and hardwood and marble flooring. Its furnishings are white leather, all very contemporary and sophisticated. It’s a place I planned to build my resume and wait for Luke.
My bedroom, on the other hand, is very girly. It’s pinks, blues, and everything is soft and warm. My view is trees and the neighbor’s house, Luke’s house. It’s full of hope and childhood dreams.
I fist my hair in my hands and groan, “Daddy didn’t raise a quitter.”
I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand up tall—well, as tall as I can. I’m five-two, five-three on a good day.
It’s Christmas. Christmas means hope, and dammit, I’m hopeful.
Today, we will spend the day with Tessa, Dad, Piper, Harper, and the rest of the Hines family. Piper, Lexington, and London will obviously be the center of attention, as they should be since they’re the youngest. I plan to be myself. Myself without a broken heart.
I walk down the stairs in my bathrobe to find Dad is standing in front of the fireplace, facing away from me. Per the norm, he is in Christmas pajamas, which we will all spend the day in.
The change in my father since he and my mother divorced is obvious. I would have never known he wasn’t truly happy in his life. He always seemed it, and maybe he was. Now, though, I see that, with Mom, it seemed like he was never relaxed. He seemed to go nonstop, do more, work harder. I’m sure the man never slept. Now, with Tessa, he seems content, relaxed, and the smile on his face is different. Real.
I don’t know if he would have left Mom after Tessa’s husband died. I don’t think he would have had it not been for discovering Mom was unfaithful to him.
My mother, she’s a different story. She lied, cheated, and with the help of my grandfather, whom I have yet to speak to, she stole my father’s company away from him. She is my mother, and I love her—hell, even abused kids love their parents, and I am far from abused. Trust her like I do my father, however? Not in the least.
At the same time, I have never walked in her shoes, and if it’s true what she says—that Dad always loved Tessa—I’m not sure how I would have managed twenty years of knowing my truth about love was that I was the second choice.
He turns around and smiles. “Merry Christmas, baby girl. Santa brought your stockings here. I think he took your gifts to Tessa and my pl
ace, though.”
I can’t help grinning. I swear he gets more joy out of the holidays than Logan and I do. Then again, from what I hear, his childhood holidays weren’t filled with joy like ours were.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy. That was smart thinking on Santa’s part.”
He hugs me and kisses the top of my head. “Let’s go wake up your brother. You know how much he loves Santa.”
***
When we get to Dad and Tessa’s house, everyone I expected to be there is. There is also one person I didn’t expect.
“Goddess Ava has arrived.” T—or Thomas, the British, drummer for Maddox Hines’ band, the Burning Souls—is standing in the living room, his arms spread wide for a hug.
“For fuck’s sake,” my dad grumbles almost inaudibly.
“Lucas.” Tessa gives a smile with a dash of warning and mischief. “Can you go and grab a chair from the garage? Thomas is joining us today.”
He gives her a glare, and she smiles bigger.
He tosses back a fake smile. “Of course, dear.”
I walk toward T’s outstretched arms, and Piper runs up and hugs me. I squat down and give her a big hug.
“Merry Christmas, Piper.”
“You’re not sad anymore,” she whispers as she takes a step back and grabs the side of my face.
“I wasn’t sad.” I giggle. “I was tired.”
She eyes me skeptically, which catches me off guard.
“It’s gonna be okay. It’s Christmas.”
“Sure is.” T grabs her up and hugs her.
For a moment, I expect her to be resistant, but she’s not, not one bit.
“Daddy’s best friend.” She pats his cheek then slides down, “It’s binner time.”
“Brunch.” Harper laughs. “Breakfast and lunch.”
“Right,” she says, taking my hand and T’s as she walks us to the table.
We sit around the table that is already set. Even the food is out and ready.
Piper has placed me one chair away from T, and she’s between us.
I see Maddox look at her, and she grins at him.
“You need your booster seat, Piper,” her father tells her.
“Nope,” she says, settling on her knees in the chair.
T laughs, and Piper giggles. It’s adorable the way she looks at him and equally adorable the way he looks at her. He seems to have this undeniable bond with her. I assume it’s no different than the one I share with Piper, her mom being my best friend and all.
T leans back, reaches over, and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You look beautiful, as always.”
I pat his hand and smile.
T and I have a history. It started before Harper and Maddox got married. At an age one shouldn’t lie to their parents, Harper and I lied and went to a concert so she could see Maddox when they weren’t together. As a matter of fact, Maddox was trying his damnedest to get over her via backstage blow jobs.
After the concert, we stood in line with all the other groupies, waiting for our chance to meet the band.
The guys were both fucked up. At first, Maddox didn’t recognize Harper, and T was all like, “Guitar”—pointing to Maddox—“or drums?” pointing to himself. When Maddox finally saw her, he carried her kicking and screaming into the bathroom, and T seriously shot line after line, thinking I was going to buy into his crap. I told him he had a better chance of seeing God than doing anything more with me than rubbing my feet … so he did.
After we left, my father found us and was chewing me out for lying when the limo pulled beside us, and a shirtless, messed up T hung out of the moon roof and asked me to marry him. Then, when my father was reprimanding me, T threatened the “old pervert,” whom he didn’t know was my father, and ever since then, my father has not liked T one bit.
We have been known to “make out” on occasion, those occasions being when I was drunk and upset with myself about Luke’s and my arrangement, but never more than kissing. If it ever started feeling like more was going to go down, I simply said, “I can’t,” and T never pushed.
It has been a couple of years since I have put myself in the position to be tempted by his blatant sexuality, hotness, his fame, and the way he treated me. He wants me, which is far different than how Luke ever made me feel. That’s also why I knew he was not going to get in my panties. It would be too easy to feel adored and comfortable by him. Love doesn’t work like that. It would also be ROCK …hard. I couldn’t imagine bitches—in plural—wanting to sleep with the man I was banging.
I smile to myself, and he squeezes my shoulder again.
“Offer still stands.”
“What?” I half-laugh.
“Marriage.”
“You’re insane.” I grin.
“I’ll drink to that,” I hear my dad say as he lifts his glass. “Damn, baby.” He reaches down and rubs his leg.
Tessa more than likely kicked him.
CJ, Matthew, Logan, and Harper all laugh. T throws his head back and howls with laughter. Piper mimics him, and soon, the entire table is laughing.
Maddox is watching T intently.
When T looks at him, he winks, and Maddox seems at ease.
The day is spent as Christmas should be: laughing, loving, maybe drinking the spiked eggnog, and playing with toys that should not be so fun to play with at my age.
CJ, Matthew, and even Logan try to “out fun” each other for Piper’s amusement. She, however, chooses me and even T over the others. Even Dad’s nose gets bent, which makes Tessa, who is also drinking, and I laugh.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” she asks me at one point.
“Baby, maybe you should step away from the spiked stuff,” Dad whispers.
“Oh, hush up, Links. I’m bonding with my stepdaughter,” she scoffs.
This makes T laugh, which makes Dad glare at him, which makes Tessa laugh even harder.
When I go to the bathroom, I hear Logan hissing at someone.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Oh, are you talking to me?” It’s London, and she is full of sass.
“Do you see any other minor in here drunk? Of course I’m talking to you,” he snaps at her.
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you maybe had that phone implanted in your ear so you could be even less social than you were yesterday, Logan Links,” she says with a bit of a slur.
“Listen, London, you are far too young to be getting drunk,” he says, trying to sound all adult-like.
“You listen, Logan, you were far too young at that football game we all went to, as well, so …” She stops.
“So, what?”
“Sew buttons on assholes,” she says then starts laughing.
I cover my mouth because I am sure I’m going to laugh out loud and get busted for spying on them.
“Oh, yeah, that’s mature,” he huffs.
“Oh, how about you go pull your phone out of your butt and call one of those mature women with the fake boobs, because that’s real mature—getting fake boobs.” She laughs at herself again.
“You get fake nails,” he retorts, sounding completely at a loss for words.
“Loggie,” she taunts. “They’re real. Just like my—”
“Enough,” he snaps. “I’m telling your father.”
To this, she burst out laughing, and then she is silenced.
“You’re gonna get caught,” Logan says.
I peek around the corner to see he has his hand over her mouth, and she is wide-eyed and blushing.
Run, London, run, I think to myself, even though Logan is my brother.
“Who are we spying on?” His whisper hits the back of my neck, and I jump.
T holds his finger over his lips. “Shh, you’ll get caught.”
I step back, and he does, too.
“London and Logan are arguing, and it’s hysterical,” I whisper.
“Ava …” He shakes his head. “Even more beautiful than last I saw you.”
“And T,
you’re even more charming. I bet that gains you points with your”—I pause—“groupies.”
He smiles, and through his light brown scruff, I see a dimple. “Groupies?”
“Guitar or drums?”
He shrugs. “It’s life.”
“How many STIs have you had?” I ask then cover my mouth.
He laughs, and I cover his mouth so London and Logan don’t hear us.
He holds his hand over mine, pressing a kiss into my palm before he lets go. “Last tested, just one.”
“Just one?” I whisper. “How can you say just one? It’s an STI, for crying in the night time.”
He smirks. “It’s incurable. It’s one I will never be rid of. I’m pretty certain you gave it to me.”
“I … what?” I gasp.
“I’m confident you were the carrier. You may want to get yourself checked out.” He smiles.
“We never slept together,” I whisper.
He takes a step back. “They say it’s carried through saliva, or”—he scratches his head in thought—“something like that.”
I scowl at him. “What are you talking about? I’ve been checked. I’ve never had an STI.”
“Well, they also said it’s only detectable in the male. The female is just the host.”
I’m shocked, embarrassed, a bit disgusted, and confused.
I look up at him, and he reaches for my hand that is covering my pounding heart.
“Don’t worry yourself over it, Ava. It will never affect you. It never affects the host as much as it does the victim.”
“The victim?” I say more loudly than intended.
He looks past me and laughs.
I shove his shoulder. “It’s not funny.”
“Hello, London, Logan.” He smirks. “Were you two playing ten minutes in heaven?”
“Oh, please,” London scoffs as she walks past us, “He wouldn’t know what to do with a female who didn’t come out of a damn Mattel box with plastic enhancements.”
“Okay, little lush,” Logan snaps, “how about you step away from the punch bowl and check in with your parents?”
She turns around and sticks her tongue out at him.
“See?” He points at her. “She’s a child.”
