“In your bedroom or in hers?”
“You’d better hope mine. That’d be a lot of people on her twin mattress.”
The thought of me and Tessa in her bed . . . alone . . . is enough to squash any uncertainty I had as to whether I wanted last night to be a fluke, because there’s nearly nothing I want more than to see her under me, breathless for me. I lean forward, my lips nearly brushing hers. “Oh, Tess, I do hope yours. But at another time and for another reason entirely.”
I watch her eyes widen slightly, her lips part, and I know she’s remembering exactly what we did in the hallway mere hours ago. I hope she’s remembering how it felt to come apart in my arms, because I like knowing she’s thinking about me like that . . . thinking about us like that.
“Mama! Jay! Hurry up! It’s already starting!”
“You heard her. Last one gets middle.” And with that, I slap Tessa on the ass and jog past her down the hallway and into her bedroom. Haley’s tiny frame is taking up entirely too much of the mattress as she pats the spot next to her.
“Got any jammies?”
“Still no jammies here, shorty.”
She heaves out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes as best as a four-year-old can. “Fine. But no shoes. Mama gets real mad if you do that.”
Just as I slip my shoes off, Tessa sneaks into the room and leaps onto the bed, giggling as Haley goes up on her knees, clapping and then pointing to me. “You have middle, Jay!”
Not that long ago, I would’ve been doing something far different on a Saturday morning while sandwiched between two girls. But now? I can’t find it in me to care that this is exactly how I’m going to be spending this particular Saturday morning.
Haley scoots down on the bed and pats the spot in the middle, encouraging me to climb in. With a raised eyebrow in Tessa’s direction, I silently ask for permission. Her not refuting Haley’s invitation in the kitchen and then flying into bed seemed like she was okay with it, but I want to be sure.
When she gives me a smile and a slight nod, I climb in and take over the majority of the bed, sprawling out on top of both Tessa and Haley. “You’re right, this is comfortable. This pillow is so soft,” I say as I bounce a little on a giggling Haley.
“Jay! That’s me, not a pillow!”
“Oh, so sorry, miss. Pardon me,” I say in an exaggerated British accent.
Her giggles grow louder as I mumble gibberish in the accent while still lying partially on top of her. When she’s able, she tugs my arm off her, and I’m barely relaxed back against the headboard before she’s burrowed her way under my arm and is snuggled into my side. I’ve always had a soft spot for this girl—since the day she was born, though I fought it a lot. Because, really, what kind of nineteen-year-old guy was enamored with a baby?
But now, feeling her laugh against my chest . . . seeing her look up at me with those dark eyes so much like mine, this warm ache spreads through my chest, and I think for a second what it’d be like if she were mine. If both of them were mine. And I wonder if this is what my grandfather always talked about—the kind of family that’s worth something. The kind of family that’s worth everything.
I’ve fought a connection like this since I was old enough to get involved with women, struggled against what it might mean to get involved with someone because of how my parents’ relationship turned out. But I can’t fight it anymore, not with Tessa and Haley.
And I realize I don’t want to.
FIFTEEN
tessa
“Do you guys seriously spend all day in bed like this?” Jason’s voice is low, mumbled softly against the top of my head, and I fight back a shiver.
It’s been an hour or so since he arrived. An hour filled with full-body touches and the feel of his rumbled voice under a layer of cotton as I rest my head against his chest. As soon as Haley burrowed her way into his side, he tugged me closer, too, smashing the both of us to him and not letting go. Not that I put up much of a fight.
“No, we usually find our way to the kitchen at some point for sustenance.”
“Yeah, ice cream!” Haley yells with a raised fist, though we’re all no more than two feet apart.
“You’ve already got her addicted to ice cream, do you realize that?” Jason’s breath tickles my forehead, and I have to remind myself to slow down. To pull back. Paige thinks I can have sex just for the sake of having sex, but I can’t. I never could, as much as I wanted to, sometimes just needing that physical connection, that release. But whether I want it to or not, sex causes emotional turbulence for me, and with our history . . . with how close Jason and I are, I have no idea what the outcome from a shared night would be.
And the constant churning in my stomach is proof enough that I’m scared as hell about that.
Needing some space, I use this as an excuse to get up. Jason recoils as I jab a finger in his side and say, “Better ice cream than wine.” I slip out of bed, walking out of the room and toward the kitchen. A glance at the clock on the microwave shows it’s nearly noon, and I grab everything I need to throw together some sandwiches for everyone. Can’t have ice cream or cookies for lunch every day . . .
It isn’t long before Jason walks into the kitchen, no Haley shadow behind him.
“How’d you manage to slip out of there?” I ask.
“Some Princess Sophie show or whatever came on.”
“Princess Sofia. She loves that one.”
I slather a layer of mayo on three slices of bread, then proceed to top them with ham and cheese. Jason doesn’t say anything more, but it’s mere seconds before my entire body ignites. Though I can’t feel him, I know without a doubt that he’s stepped closer to me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, goose bumps erupt on my skin, and it’s not until my nipples tighten into points against the cotton of my tank top that I remember I’m not wearing a bra.
He leans forward, his breath warm on the back of my neck, my short hair baring that part of my body to him, and I close my eyes in anticipation. Of what, I don’t know. His lips? His tongue? His words?
And I want all of them. Any of the above, or all three at once.
When none of them come, I can’t take it anymore. I stop what I’m doing and rest my hands against the counter, using the support to hold myself up as I drop my head forward and close my eyes.
“What are we doing, Jason?” My voice is barely above a whisper, my words said to the floor, but he still hears me. Where before I could only sense him behind me, now I feel him. He takes a small step forward, bringing the line of his front against my back, and I can’t deny how amazing it feels. How amazing he feels. He smells like soap and laundry detergent and just a hint of cologne—nothing overpowering. It’s light and fresh and everything Jason is wrapped up in a mouthwatering scent.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Tess.”
“That’s not fair. Don’t put this all on me.”
“It has to be all on you. I know how I am; we both do. If I put my mind to it, do you think I couldn’t get you in your bed? Even if you thought it was a bad idea? I need you to be sure. I want you, Tess. Don’t doubt that. I’ve wanted you for months, and I’m finally owning up to that. But you have to want it as bad as I do.”
Before I can say anything, before I can even think about his words, his warmth is gone and the voice of my daughter fills the room.
“Yes, ham and cheese! Can we have chips, too?”
It takes me a moment before my parched mouth can form words. “If you eat your carrots.”
She nods enthusiastically, taking her place at the breakfast bar next to Jason, but I can’t look at him. My face has erupted in flames, a wave of heat engulfing me at his words—at the honesty in them and the truth in what he wants.
Me.
I busy myself with everything I can just to avoid eye contact, because I know I’ll get lost if I look into those dark whiskey-colored eyes—eyes so similar to my daughter’s it’s jolting sometimes. And he’s right. This does have to
be on me.
I’m just not sure I’m ready for the leap.
• • •
THE SNOW IS falling in sheets, those perfect flakes that come only once or twice a season covering the ground. Despite the accumulation, it’s a nice day, even though winter descended exceptionally early, the temperature hovering right around thirty degrees, perfect for snowman building and snow angel making and snowball fights.
I don’t know if Jason could sense I needed time to myself, or if he really is that much of a kid despite his twenty-four years, but regardless of the reason, he offered to take Haley outside and work off some of her endless energy. He got her ready, covered head to toe in winter gear, then took her outside only to arrive back five minutes later because Haley forgot to use the bathroom. He was patient, never getting frustrated for the extra ten minutes of work as he unbundled and rebundled her, and then they were out the door again.
It’s been nearly an hour, and I’m still standing frozen in my place in front of the kitchen sink as I look out into our backyard, hearing the pealing giggles of my little girl followed by the deeper baritone of Jason’s chuckle. And just like last night with him curled up on Haley’s bed with her, the sight of them in the backyard isn’t anything new. Cade used to take Haley out in the snow all the time. It’s her favorite season, and she never tired of playing outside, even in the frigid temperatures. But there is something new about the scene in front of me now. It fills my chest with a warmth I wasn’t expecting, a warmth I hadn’t banked on when Jason started spending more time with us after Cade left.
I think back to how he’s been in the last five months, checking it against what I’ve known of him the last fifteen years. He’s been a constant—his support unwavering and unquestionable. It’s no secret he’s smitten with Haley. That girl has him wrapped so far around her pinky, it wouldn’t take much more than a bat of her thick eyelashes to get him to agree to anything.
Paige’s words come to me, a reminder that I’m not a new infatuation for Jason. That, according to her, he’s been looking at me differently for months. And his words from this morning prove that.
Somewhere along the way, I started looking at him differently, too.
But still, I’m holding back.
A few months of new behavior doesn’t discount the years before. The years full of girls, of one-night stands—neither of which I’m judging him for. He was never committed to any of the women he slept with, never misled anyone, and if that worked for him, great. It doesn’t work for me, though, and I’m worried this is just a phase. Something that won’t stick, and then where will that leave me? Where will that leave us? Because as much as I’d like to make the decision based solely on what my body is begging me to do, there’s another person I have to take into account. Another person who’ll get stuck in the fallout if this all blows up in my face.
But as I look out at the two of them playing in the snow, Jason running away from Haley but not so fast that she can’t catch him, I don’t think he’d even be here if he hadn’t thought it through a hundred times. He wouldn’t hurt Haley like that, and after being in our lives so frequently for the past few months, he has to know just exactly how much it will affect her.
Haley tosses a snowball at him, a weak excuse for a throw, but Jason goes down, crumpling to the ground as sure as if it were a major-league pitch hitting him. She’s on him in a second, her head tossed back in the absolutely unrestrained laughter that can come only from a child. She is so happy, so full of love. For Jason. It’s clear in the way his laughter meets and melts with hers, in the way he tosses her in the air, and in the way he smiles just for her that he feels the same.
It’s then, in that very moment as I stare out at a blanket of white, that I know I’m in trouble.
• • •
“HOW IS SHE not tired yet?” Jason’s sprawled out on the couch, his head resting against the cushion. After an hour and a half outside, they came in to warm up the same way that’s been a tradition since I was a child—with hot chocolate. Once they were toasty again, Haley talked him into a tea party followed by a rousing game—or seven—of Mario Kart, and now despite all the activity outside and the nonstop goings-on in the house, Haley is still practically bouncing off the walls.
“It’s cabin fever. It’s like she knows we can’t get out even if we wanted to.” I glance outside at the snow still falling, the once-perfect flakes transforming into a blur of white, the wind gusting and blowing and the ground piled high with more than a foot of snow.
“Well, I’m ready for a nap,” Jason mumbles, his eyes closing.
“No naps!” Haley yells as she spins in circles.
“It’s the donuts from this morning,” I say to Jason. “You only have yourself to blame.”
“Oh, so that hot chocolate with twenty-seven marshmallows and a candy cane stir stick didn’t do anything, right?”
I smile. “It’s tradition. It’s what my mom used to give us whenever we played outside.”
With his head resting back against the couch cushion, he turns to face me. “I remember.”
His voice is soft—not tentative, but wistful. And even though he’s not a Maxwell, even though he didn’t live in this house, he’d come to count on my parents, my mom especially, as sure as if they were his own, because God knew his parents weren’t worth shit. There’s comfort in that, in shared memories and not having to recount the little details, of not having to try and tell someone how amazing my parents were. He already knows. He already knows so much.
“Let’s play a game!”
With a sigh, I glance over at Haley. “It’s almost bedtime, baby.”
She slumps, her lip going out in a pout. “Come on. Just one game?”
“Yeah, just one game?” Jason mimics, his lip popping out just like Haley’s.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I thought you were ready for a nap?”
“The faster we play the game, the faster I’m going to get one.”
“Yes!” Haley takes that for an answer and pumps her fist in the air before running down the hall to her closet where all the games are stored.
When she comes skipping back in, a giant smile on her face and a white box with bold letters over the front and huge circles in red, green, blue, and yellow in her hands, Jason looks at me with a question I can’t misinterpret, his eyebrow raised. He knows just as well as I do that this is going to do nothing to extinguish the bubbling chemistry between us. And me agreeing to play the game is akin to stepping right into the wolf’s den.
jason
“Left foot green,” Tessa says, blowing the hair out of her face as she looks at Haley.
This is what my Saturday night looks like. Not body shots, not beer pong or strip poker.
Twister. And not even naked Twister with a group of coeds.
We’ve been at this for fifteen minutes. Fifteen agonizing minutes where too much and not nearly enough of Tessa has come in contact with me. When Haley came running out of her room with this game of all that she could have chosen, I knew exactly what would happen if we played it. Tessa and I have combustible chemistry when standing on opposite ends of a room, but throw us together, contorting and bending over a small mat, and all bets were off. I’ve had to restrain myself more times than I can count from leaning forward and biting the ass that somehow keeps ending up in my face. The only thing that’s stopped me is the four-year-old cock-blocker currently having the time of her life.
Listening to her mom’s order, Haley stretches, attempting to reach a green dot, but the closest open one isn’t close at all, and with a grunt, then a giggle, she collapses on the mat, taking her loss surprisingly well. “I’ll be the spinner! Mama, you gotta beat Jay, ’kay?” She sits on her knees off to the side, bouncing up and down as she sends the arrow spinning. Tessa watches, waiting for it to stop. When it does, she smiles smugly, then easily moves her left hand to the blue space.
I’m not so lucky—or luckier, depending on how you look at it. Haley’s sp
in for me lands on right hand red, which is on the other side of the mat. Carefully, I move, diligently keeping myself held up over the mat, and bring my hand down on the other side of Tessa, her back brushing against my chest. She took a shower while Haley and I were out playing in the snow, and the citrusy-fresh scent of her shampoo—the same scent she uses on me when I go to her for a haircut, the same scent that taunts me for days after—assaults me. I’m lost in thoughts of what that hair will look like spread over my pillow, when Haley calls out the next move, having already memorized which section on the spinner is for what body part.
With a twist of her body, Tessa moves her foot to the nearest yellow, her hip brushing up against my cock, and just like that, the semi I was sporting goes to full wood, and I groan under my breath. Tessa looks over at me, her green eyes darkening, her lips parted, and if there was any question about whether she feels this thing between us, I have my answer right here.
She holds the pose for a moment, then she drops one elbow to the floor, maintaining eye contact with me the entire time. Haley groans in the background, but it’s drowned out as I focus on Tessa’s eyes. I read everything I need to in that gaze. The want, the desire, the acceptance . . . the fear.
She’s scared she’s going to be just like any other girl for me, that this won’t be different. I’m scared of it, too. But then I remember I could have a dozen different girls if I wanted to. Ones I could call up and they’d be on me in the blink of an eye. Instead, I’ve spent my time dressing up in hats and feather boas just to see a little girl smile. I’ve spent a Saturday curled up in bed, then freezing my balls off for the sole purpose of hearing Haley laugh. I’ve spent all my time lately getting closer to the two girls who’ve come to mean the world to me, and because of that, I’m certain this is different.
She is different. And I’m ready to prove just how much.
SIXTEEN
tessa
I threw the game. Despite my daughter wanting me to win—for girls everywhere, she said—I couldn’t. I feigned exhaustion, letting my body slump to the ground. Because my blood was boiling, my body on fire as I pressed against Jason’s body during a stupid game of Twister, and I couldn’t take it anymore. If Haley hadn’t been in the room, I would’ve pulled Jason down on top of me and let him strip me down right there on that stupid plastic mat.
Tessa Ever After Page 12