Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel)

by Jessica Cunsolo

  Chase looks down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t know. I’ll think about telling her, I guess.”

  “Good. And you owe Noah an apology. But think about what you’re going to tell Char while you’re in the shower. You smell like booze and barbeque.”

  The corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a small smile. “That you’re right about.”

  He stands up and the pillow that was keeping him decent falls to the floor, along with whatever Froot Loops weren’t glued to him. I throw my hands over my face.

  “Chase!”

  “Oh, sorry.” He laughs, picks up the pillow, and covers his behind as he walks up the stairs.

  “And burn the pillow!” I call after him, hearing his answering chuckle.

  “Amelia?” A different voice calls, one that sends a warmth throughout my body.

  Aiden comes out of his room, looking freshly showered.

  “Shit, sorry. Did I wake you with the yelling?”

  His room, Noah’s room, and Annalisa and Julian’s room are on the main floor, but Aiden’s is the closest to the living room.

  “No. It’s eight thirty, I was already up. Who were you talking to? And what happened to the couch?”

  I look at the couch and can’t help but smile. “I was talking to Chase. He slept on the couch. It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Ah. He was drinking last night.”

  “Guess it’s not a long story after all.” I laugh as I head into the kitchen, grab a roll of paper towels, and toss them to Aiden.

  He catches them with ease and looks back at the mess. “Dammit. Please tell me he didn’t finish all of my Froot Loops!”

  I laugh as we kneel down and wipe off the couch, which, thankfully, is leather.

  “We can always go get you some more,” I tell him, because between the mess on the floor and on the couch, it’s looking like Chase dumped the whole box.

  We clean up the mess pretty quickly and manage to get the couch to stop being sticky, but right as we’re going to make some breakfast as a reward, the doorbell rings.

  “You keep working on those eggs, I’ll get it,” I tell Aiden as my stomach growls in protest.

  The living room, kitchen, and small, front foyer is all in one big, open-concept area. When I look through the peephole, Aiden sees me step back in confusion.

  “Who is it?” he asks, walking over to me.

  There are three men in suits standing on the porch; the one in the middle is instantly recognizable.

  “It’s the mayor. What should we do?” I look at Aiden helplessly.

  How did the mayor find us? Is he here to arrest Aiden? He wouldn’t have come personally to arrest him, right?

  There’s another persistent knock on the door, and I look through the peephole again before Aiden has the chance to open the door. The two men with the mayor definitely look more like bodyguards than cops, which calms me down a bit. But still.

  “Do you think he knows who you are?” I whisper to Aiden.

  “Only one way to find out,” he says, glancing at the door I’m standing in front of.

  “Oh, sorry,” I say sheepishly.

  Aiden’s the one who could get in trouble but I’m the one worried about it; he looks completely unfazed. I open the door and am met with three blank but intimidating faces.

  “It’s about time,” Mayor Andrew Kessler comments, glancing into the house behind me.

  Well, then.

  “Can I help you?” I ask him, slightly annoyed but still keeping my polite voice in check.

  “Yes, actually. I’d like to speak with my son.”

  “Then you have the wrong house.” Aiden steps out from behind me, not that I was doing much to cover him in the first place. Andrew smiles a smile that I can automatically tell isn’t genuine.

  “Aiden. Look at you. You’ve grown into quite the young man.”

  My eyes narrow at the mayor, and I can’t see Aiden’s reaction, but I’m sure it’s similar to mine.

  “What are you doing here?” Aiden asks in a tone that sends chills down my spine; it’s the same one he uses on people who aren’t me.

  Aiden’s an inch or two taller than his father. Andrew isn’t out of shape in the least bit, with broad shoulders and a hint of some muscle, but Aiden definitely has more muscle on him with all the time he dedicates to working out. But their similar physiques is where the comparison ends. Aiden would never abandon his family.

  “I wanted to talk,” Andrew states, sounding much too calm for someone who’s talking to the son he deserted years ago. “Are you going to invite me in or keep us standing out here like strangers?”

  Aiden lets out a quick, humorless chuckle. “The second one.”

  He starts to close the door but Andrew quickly slams his hand onto it, stopping it from closing.

  “I think it’s best if we have a quick chat,” he asserts, pushing the door open with authority and walking in, the two men who are with him following suit.

  Aiden’s facial expression doesn’t change but his hand clenches into a fist and the muscle in his jaw twitches.

  He closes the door and we follow Andrew into the house just as Annalisa and Julian walk out of their room. They look at the mayor standing in our living room with the two other men, then back at Aiden. Last night, Aiden told everyone (who was home and minus his brothers) who the mayor really was, so they look torn on how to react to the sight.

  Julian eyes the two other men, who clearly look like bodyguards and still haven’t said a word. “Is everything okay here?”

  “It’s fine.” Aiden waves him off with a straight face. “Let’s go talk on the back porch.”

  He leads the mayor and his two friends to the back, and I stay beside Annalisa and Julian as we watch them head outside.

  It’s driving me crazy not knowing how Aiden is feeling with all of this. This is the first time he’s talking to his father since the man deserted him and his family, and now here he is, strolling into Aiden’s life like he’s a longtime golf buddy. I wish I could read Aiden’s face like I can other people’s.

  Once Andrew and his friends are outside, Aiden turns to me. “Are you coming?”

  Those three words catch me so off guard that I just stare at him dumbly. He wants me there with him, sitting in on his family drama?

  “Amelia?” he asks again, waiting for me.

  Shaking off my awestruck expression, I follow him outside and sit in the chair directly across from Andrew, separated only by a small, outdoor coffee table. His “friends” remain standing behind him until Andrew waves them off. They head down the porch steps and walk out of hearing distance but remain close enough to run back and intervene if something happens.

  Why does a small-town mayor even need bodyguards?

  Aiden closes the door to the house and sits beside me, and we all stare at each other in an intimidating silence.

  I can’t help but feel like a child who was called into the principal’s office, about to be scolded. From what I can tell so far, Andrew Kessler is a very well-spoken, well–put together man who gives off an air of superiority and a large sense of entitlement. He has slightly long, slicked back, dirty-blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and well-maintained stubble that defines his already straight jawline. It almost pains me to admit that he’s a handsome man, wearing an expensive-looking suit and with an even more costly watch adorning his wrist. A silver wedding band glints on his ring finger, and I know it’s not the one from his marriage to Aiden’s mom. His cheekbone has the slightest hint of a bruise, and I feel a twisted sense of pride in Aiden. Even so, it’s evident that Andrew Kessler is one of those people who knows how to control a room, whose presence demands attention—which might be where Aiden gets it from.

  “Listen, son, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for Aiden to get even tenser, but he does at hearing the word son.

  “I’m not here to press charges,” Andrew continues, “even though both my
wife and campaign manager certainly think I should. But once I told them I would never do that to my son, they dropped it. We’re family.” He sends Aiden a pointed look, clearly wanting to punctuate some point he’s trying to make.

  Aiden’s hand clenches into a fist, and I pry it open to hold it in my own. The last thing we need is for him to punch the mayor again. I doubt Andrew will take kindly to two black eyes during his campaign.

  Aiden says nothing but Andrew doesn’t seem to mind, completely content with steering the conversation.

  “Speaking of family, where are my other sons?”

  Aiden’s hand tightens in mine almost painfully before he realizes it and lets go.

  “Sons?” Aiden’s voice is low. “You don’t have any sons. At least not in this house.”

  Andrew tilts his head. “Last time I checked, I had three boys. You, and a set of twins.”

  The muscle in Aiden’s jaw ticks. “Not if you had your way. They wouldn’t be here if Mom listened to you.”

  As if instinctively knowing they were being talked about, Jason and Jackson appear behind the sliding glass door, looking out at us with worried faces. Andrew follows our gazes, and the twins, being spotted, scurry farther back into the house.

  “Well, they are here.” The corner of Andrew’s lips turn up. “And they have my eyes, I see. Why don’t you bring them out so I can meet them properly?”

  Nothing about Andrew’s tone or body language is threatening, but by the way Aiden’s body reacts to his words, you’d think he was holding a gun to Aiden’s head. I can tell it’s taking everything Aiden has to stay calm and not punch Andrew in the face again. I can feel the aggravated energy radiating off of him.

  “Do you even know their names?” Aiden snaps.

  “Aiden, listen—”

  “No, you listen,” Aiden interrupts, eyes blazing. “You show up on our doorstep after wanting nothing to do with them, with us, and have the balls to play the we’re family card? Unbe-fuckinglievable.” Aiden stands. “Please see yourself out.”

  Andrew makes no move to leave. In fact, he looks entertained.

  “Your reaction is normal, son. Please sit back down. I understand how you’re feeling. You should be pissed. I left your mom while she was pregnant. I wasn’t there for you when she died, and I wasn’t there while you grew up. But those boys, Jason and Jackson, are still young. Obviously, you running into me at the fair was fate that we were meant to have a second chance. To be more of a family.” Andrew leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and with a gleam in his eyes that I don’t trust.

  My scoff must’ve been out loud because they both look at me.

  “Something to say?” Andrew raises an eyebrow at me as Aiden sits back down next to me.

  I’ve never been one to hold back. “You’re telling us that this kumbaya bullshit has nothing to do with the fact that you can’t risk a scandal in the middle of your campaign? That you would’ve reached out to Aiden, Jason, and Jackson even if you weren’t running for governor?”

  Andrew’s eyes narrow just a fraction before his expression smooths back out. “As I said, fate has brought us together.” He pauses, carefully thinking out his next words. “Actually, I’m inviting you and your brothers to a gala I’m having tomorrow for my campaign. I know people would just love to meet my sons. I’ll have suits in your sizes delivered here by tonight. I assume you don’t have dress shoes here?” He pulls a money clip out of his pocket and my eyes bulge since it looks like it’s holding enough cash to pay a year’s worth of college tuition. Andrew pulls a few bills free. “This should cover shoes and then some.” He pauses again, looking me over. “I guess you’ll want to bring her as your date? Here’s some extra for a dress and shoes for her.” He pulls out more bills, holding the neat stack out to Aiden, who eyes the pile like he doesn’t trust it not to spontaneously combust.

  “Her name is Amelia. And no thanks,” Aiden says plainly.

  Andrew’s laugh is one that I imagine rich people use when they’re entertained by something they think is beneath them. “Right. I doubt you have enough money on you to pay for a suit and shoes yourself. Do you even know the going rate of a nice dress? You can’t show up in jeans.”

  “No, I meant we aren’t coming,” Aiden clarifies. “In fact, it’s probably the last thing I’d ever want to do, right after gouging my eyeballs out with a rusty spoon.”

  Andrew sets the stack of bills down on the outdoor coffee table and moves one of the decorative candles on top of it to keep them from flying away in the wind.

  “But we’re blood,” Andrew starts, his analyzing gaze piercing Aiden’s. “If we weren’t family, then I would’ve pressed charges against you. But lucky for you, we are related, and as such, I expect you to show up to the gala, where I can present my sons to the world and show them that we’re a strong, united family, one that can get over the past and make amends.”

  Aiden and I both see the threat for what it is: go to the gala, play nice, don’t mention the past, and he won’t press charges against Aiden.

  “My wife, Katherine, is just dying to meet you.” Andrew stands up, clearly deciding that the conversation is over, and so do Aiden and I. Andrew adds, “And so is your stepsister.”

  That throws Aiden off. “Stepsister?”

  Andrew signals to his bodyguards, who make their way over to us. “Yes. Evianna. She’s around your age, so I’m sure you’ll become great friends.”

  Aiden’s eyes meet mine, and we share a stunned look. Like Aiden needs another stepsibling in his life.

  The back door slides open so fast it almost bounces closed again, causing us all to turn and look. Jason and Jackson are back, expressions of fear all over their faces. All they know is that the mayor whom Aiden punched last night is here in the house, and they don’t want him to get in trouble.

  Andrew’s intimidating gaze sweeps over the twins. “Hi, boys. I’m your fa—”

  “Not now!” Aiden interrupts, stepping between Andrew and his brothers, as if he doesn’t even want him looking at them.

  Andrew’s eyes are cold and calculating. “They should get to meet their father.”

  Aiden tenses, his back is rigid and eyes hard. “You’re not their father,” he grits out. “And you have no legal claim over us after the divorce.”

  Andrew tugs on his expensive-looking cufflinks, completely unfazed by his son’s intimidating demeanor. “You just need some time to adjust. We’re family, remember?”

  Aiden’s jaw is set, a fire alight in his eyes that I’ve only seen a couple of times, when he’s calculating how to make someone’s life a living hell.

  Andrew doesn’t wait for us to answer. “We’ll see ourselves out. I’ll see you all at the gala.”

  Aiden follows them back into the house, as if to make sure that they go straight to the door and get away from him, leaving me outside with his brothers.

  “Is Aiden in trouble?” Jackson asks me, worry for his brother written all over his face.

  “Did you see Aiden’s face? The one he makes when he promises pain? I think it’s the mayor who’s in trouble now,” I joke.

  Jason smiles at me, eyes shining with pride in his brother. “Yeah. That guy can go fuck himself.”

  My eyes widen at him. “Who told you it was okay to say that?!”

  A small blush spreads across his cheeks. “Noah told me I can say that about people who are mean to me.”

  “Maybe don’t say that in front of Aiden?” I suggest, resisting the urge to grin.

  But Jason is totally right. Mayor Andrew Kessler can definitely go fuck himself.

  17

  After Andrew leaves, Aiden declares that no one is going to the fundraiser, and that is the end of that. Charlotte, Noah, and Chase are all stressed out because of their whole situation. The twins are worried about their brother being in trouble. Mason has been avoiding me ever since the fridge incident the other day, which just makes me feel even more guilty about the whole his dad is cheating w
ith my mom thing, and I’m starting to realize that I need to figure out a way to tell Aiden that I’m leaving soon. And with everything so tense lately, Julian had the great idea of going paintballing to blow off some steam and have some fun. Under other circumstances it would’ve been fun, but now, I don’t know.

  Give a bunch of stressed out people guns and tell them to shoot each other—what could go wrong?

  “I call me and Jackson as team captains!” Jason exclaims as we’re putting jumpsuits on over our clothes.

  The teams end up being me, Jackson, Mason, Annalisa, and Chase against Jason, Charlotte, Julian, Aiden, and Noah. Chase watches Noah showing Charlotte how to use her paintball gun but quickly looks away, kicking at the dirt floor.

  Charlotte rode with me, Aiden, and Annalisa to the paint-ball arena and told us on the way what happened with Chase. After our talk this morning, Chase went up to shower then talked with Charlotte while we were dealing with the mayor. She told us that Chase basically told her that he’s been in love with her since forever but was always too scared to say or do anything about it because he couldn’t bear to hear her say that she didn’t feel the same way.

  And then she made those fears a reality. She told him, through tears, that she loves him but she doesn’t have the same feelings he has for her. When he asked if it had anything to do with Noah, she said no, telling him that she doesn’t understand her feelings for Noah. She doesn’t think he believes her, but he didn’t press the situation any further.

  The conversation ended with Chase telling her that he still loves her and that he’ll always be there for her, and that he doesn’t want their relationship to be strained or awkward because of his confession. Of course she agreed, but she told us that he wouldn’t call her Charlie during the conversation like he always has, and that hurt more than she thought it ever could’ve. Even if she still hates the nickname, his refusal to say it means something in their friendship has permanently shifted.