by Sadie Grubor
Taking a deep breath, I crawl over Sid's lap and climb out of the car. The camera shutters click in rapid succession.
"I'm right here," I greet, lifting a hand to give a small wave.
Jackson's arm comes around my shoulders in a protective fashion.
"If I give you all five minutes, I need you to respect my terms. Alright?"
Heads nod and vocal confirmations hiss.
Leaning down in the open door, I catch Sid's eyes.
"Can you get the boys to the field so they can warm up?"
"Of course," she says, scooting to the doorway and climbing out.
Behind her Lucas, Sean, and Kel file out of the car.
"Keep the cameras off the boys." Jackson's hand covers a lens pointed in the boys’ direction.
The cameraman nods sheepishly, turning the camera back to our united front.
"Are you two a couple?" a young, dark-skinned man asks.
"Isn't that a violation of your twelve steps?" A petite blonde woman pushes by the man.
"Liza?"
My eyes snap to a round man.
"Did you know Jackson was with Kristy when you started seeing him?"
My lips part on a gasp and eyes widen in surprise.
"I wasn't with Kristy when I met Liza," Jackson growls. "That was over before I came to L.A.."
He pulls me tighter to his side.
"Yes, we're a couple, and, no, I'm not violating one of the steps."
Jackson pulls out a key tag and holds it up for the reporters. They snap photos of him holding the tag stating his sobriety. I wrap my arms around his waist.
"What do you have to say about the abuse rumors?"
Jackson tenses and I act.
"If you're referring to me, then they are entirely false," I state.
"How do you feel about being kicked off the show due to your relationship with Jackson?" The petite blonde slings her question.
"The show really wasn't for me, but I wish the contestants well."
I smile and the cameras click.
"Do you have any comment about the article Cheyenne Post released online this morning?" Another journalist steps forward.
"I…I don't know about an article," I stutter, swallowing hard.
What the hell is being said now?
"She states in the article she expects big things from a woman with the caliber of talent you hold and she's disappointed in the narrow-minded suits running the show."
The man shoves his recorder closer toward me.
"Cheyenne Post said that?" Jackson asks in disbelief.
The man nods emphatically.
"I thank her for the kind words," is the only response I can think to give.
Almost ten minutes later, we walk away from the group of reporters. I keep looking over my shoulder.
"They aren't following," I whisper.
"Good," Jackson replies.
"I didn't think they would actually do it."
"Do what?" He guides me toward Sid and Kel.
"Listen to you." I step up on the bleachers and settle next to Sid.
"It only happens occasionally." Going up one bleacher higher, Jackson sits behind me and stretches his long legs on either side of my body.
Sid puts her arm on his knee and leans.
"Thanks," she says, keeping her eyes on the field of practicing players, "these metal things hurt my ass."
Jackson doesn't pull his leg away or push her off. Instead, he pulls me back into his body, perfectly at ease and ready to cheer on Sean and Lucas.
For the first time in my life, I understand epic romance movie moments. My heart thuds, my chest feels so full—almost too full—and every inch of my skin tingles with a pleasant burn.
After the game and awards, we lounge around the penthouse living space. Sean and Lucas sit in the oversized bean bag chairs they’ve claimed, playing a racing game on the TV. Kel lies stomach down, head toward the end of the couch cushion. He watches the boys play their game, dozing off and on. Jackson slouches against the curve of the sofa, one leg stretched along the cushions and the other bent at the knee with his foot on the floor. Lying between his legs, on my side, head resting on his thigh, I'm still amazed by the length of his body.
Having been talking off and on with Una regarding the videos and information she's found so far, Sid makes her way over and plops onto the couch.
"Una's going to be calling you," she says, getting situated against the overstuffed cushions.
"Why couldn't she just tell you?" Jackson asks, his head back and eyes closed.
"Dunno," Sid answers, but her interest is already on the video game. "I've got next winner."
Lucas and Sean groan in unison.
"Sid, you'll be on for the rest of the night," Sean whines.
"So?" She shrugs.
"So, we want to play together, too."
"Well, your mother should've bought more than two controllers," she snips.
The vibration from Jackson's phone travels through the couch before it rings.
"It's probably Una," Sid says, distracted. "Lucas, you missed the nitro launch."
Jackson shifts, trying to get his phone from his back pocket. I attempt to move out of his way, but his free hand presses my head back to his thigh.
Reaching his phone, he answers, "Yeah?"
"Wait, it's not my—”
Lifting my head, I watch Jackson roll his eyes. Pulling his phone from his ear, he presses it to his chest.
"Where's your phone?" he asks.
Reaching over the edge of the couch, I pull my phone from my bag and hand it to him.
Putting his own phone back to his ear, he says, "Shut up for two seconds," before reading off a phone number.
"Why are you giving out my number?" Sid questions with an edge to her tone.
He ignores her and continues talking to the person on the other end of his call.
"Well, it's your own damn fault," he lectures, tossing my phone to the empty cushion next to him. "No, but I'll definitely ask Red for the photos." He disconnects, dropping the phone next to mine.
Sid's phone vibrates across the counter next to her geek station.
She turns and looks at the phone like it might bite her.
"That will be Xave." Jackson winks. "Good luck with that, he's known for his revenge schemes. You can ask Chris about them."
"You bastard," she hisses. "Why would you give that overgrown ginger-jack my number?"
"Because I'm not your receptionist. You two handle your shit. I've got my own to worry about," he says, giving her a pointed look before putting his head back on the couch.
The phone vibrates again, but Sid ignores it.
"Looks like I'll be changing my number," she grumbles.
"What did you do?" Kel asks from his prone position.
She shrugs. "Nothing."
"Bullshit," Jackson snorts.
"What did she do?" I ask this time.
"He was in that closet last night." He rubs his eyes.
Whipping my head back to Sid, eyes wide, I find a small grin on her face.
"You didn't?"
She shrugs again.
Kel chuckles.
"He had it coming," she defends. "Did he," she points at Jackson, "tell you how his buddy was up my ass all night talking about how pretty and sexy he thinks I am?" she scoffs like it's impossible for someone to believe that very thing.
"Sid," I warn, shifting my eyes to the boys, but a part of me aches for her. Nothing and no one can get it through her head that she is pretty and sexy. I've tried so many times.
Her mouth drops open. "He just said bullshit." She stabs a finger at Jackson.
"Good point," I nod, "you both need to watch your mouths."
"Will do, baby." Jackson's fingers find my hair.
Sid sighs when her phone vibrates again and pushes up from the couch.
"I guess I should just get this over with."
She marches away and disappears with her phone.
/> "Good luck, Sid," Kel calls after her, earning him a middle finger salute.
He laughs.
"What else did she do?"
Jackson's laughter shakes me before he answers with, "She teased him into the closet, shoved him inside, handcuffed him to the hanger pole," he pauses to laugh harder, "and then," he gasps, "then she pushed a bra into his mouth."
My and Kel's laughter joins his.
"Whew," Jackson blows out a breath. "We literally walked out just after she did it all. Red has pictures."
"I'm not going to even lie. It totally sounds like something she would do." Propping up on my elbow, I glance up to his smiling face. "Actually, he's lucky she didn't take his pants first."
He raises one brow, questioningly.
Shaking my head, I lie down in his lap.
"You don't want to know, man." Kel turns back to the TV.
The next morning doesn't go as smoothly as I'd like, but it being the first time for the school routine, I suppose it could've gone worse. Kel rides in the car driving the boys to school so I have peace of mind.
I arrange the dirty dishes in a dishwashing machine so clean, I almost feel sorry for filling it with food covered plates and cups.
"You know a cleaning lady comes in right?"
Looking up from the dishwasher, I find Jackson leaning against the fridge. His arms crossed over his naked chest, he looks like he's posing for a magazine.
"It's weird having someone clean up after us." I look around the kitchen. "I feel like I should clean before she comes to clean."
Laughing, he shakes his head.
"'Cause that's not crazy," he teases, pushing off the stainless steel appliance and stalking toward me.
Backing up a step for every one he takes, my butt hits the counter.
"What?" I furrow my brow.
"Una called this morning," he confesses, placing his hands to the counter on either side of me.
"And?" I press.
"Kristy will be back in L.A. at the end of the week."
He lifts a hand to my hair, twirling a strand around one long finger, studying his actions.
"She's agreed to meet me at the hotel." His eyes move to mine. "Una has her thinking I want to talk."
"Well, you do."
"Yeah, but not the way she's thinking." He grins.
"Ah," I say, nodding, finally catching his meaning.
Great. I'm sure the skank will come wearing nothing but a smile.
"Chris texted right after the call, telling me he would be there, which means all of the guys will probably follow. Probably the girls, too."
"Okay." I nod.
Emotions ranging from hate and anger, to fear and anxiousness war inside me.
"Will you be there?" he asks, licking his pierced lip.
If I see her, I'm afraid I'll beat the shit out of her.
"If you want me—"
"Of course I want you there," he interrupts in a raised voice.
I flinch.
"Sorry," he softens. "You know I want you around, right?"
His eyes search mine.
"I think so."
"You need to know so," he states. "Do you want to be there?" he asks.
Nodding, I answer, "Yes."
But think, it will take all my strength not to break her face.
"Okay, then you'll be there."
Releasing my hair, he cups my face.
"Are you okay around the bands?"
"You mean Laney?"
"Partially," he inclines his head, "but I want you to be comfortable with them all."
"They've been nothing but nice." I shrug. "But I don't really know them yet."
"And Laney?" he presses.
"She seems really happy for you."
He runs his thumb over my cheek.
"That surprises you."
"Honestly, I didn't expect anything. I didn't plan on standing in your penthouse kitchen this morning."
A grin splits his face.
"But you are." Keeping the smile, he sticks his tongue through his teeth.
"Yeah, I am." I beam up at him.
"You stay'n in my kitchen?" he asks, his face moving closer.
"I thought we are seeing how things go?"
I press my hands to his chest, sliding my arms up to his shoulders.
"I'll just take that as a yes."
He dips his head and I knot the hair at the back of his head in my fingers, taking his mouth with mine.
Palming my ass, he lifts me onto the kitchen island and moves between my spread legs.
"People prepare food on that surface," Sid yawns the words.
Groaning, Jackson lifts his head, narrowing his eyes on her.
"Don't give me that look," Sid scolds. "This is public domain. Go play grope-and-poke in your bedroom."
She pulls open the fridge, taking out the jug of orange juice. Closing the door, she levels a look at Jackson and holds his stare.
"Cockblock," he taunts.
She stops, tilts her head, and looks contemplative before she says, "Hundreds of thousands of sperm and you were the fastest?"
I stiffen, immediately reminded of the no condom incident.
My period can't come soon enough.
They silently standoff for another minute before Jackson turns his attention back to me.
"I also have Julia contacting my lawyer today," he says in a casual tone.
"For what?"
"About Sean," he answers in the same cool tone.
"Explain, please."
I push on his chest, putting some space between us. He steps back, leaning against the counter behind him.
"I told you not to worry about the caseworker." He shrugs. "My lawyers will contact the caseworker and his grandmother to get your guardianship solidified. Then he'll be able to feel secure about being here."
The fact that he makes it about Sean feeling secure melts my insides.
"You know that shit affects him, right?" He raises his pierced brow.
"He told you that?" I slip from the counter onto my feet.
"No, not directly, but he's made comments to Luke about appreciating the mom he has and how his house will never be anything like this." He motions to the open space.
I cover my mouth to hold in my gasp.
"We're gonna get things handled before this week is over. So, don't plan on your caseworker returning your call. At least, not until my lawyers are done filing motions or petitions, or whatever the fuck they do." He waves a hand in the air.
"Well, well," Sid says, walking between us, a bowl of cereal in her hands, "you're good sperm after all."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jackson
Five days. The mornings filled with school routines and—my favorite—afternoons in bed with my snake charmer. It's been five amazing days. It's also only been five goddamn days and she already has the head of security for the W in my penthouse foyer.
Liza stands to the side, scowling at a smirking Sid.
She's pissed, but I know part of the problem is the upcoming meeting with Kristy. Liza won't say it, but I see the flames light in her eyes when the psycho bitch is discussed.
"I promise it won't happen again," I assure, closing the door on the departing manager.
"Why?" Liza growls.
"'Cause it was way too easy," she says, shrugging and turning a pointed look on me. "And if I can hack their firewalls and change the network settings, you really need to rethink how safe you feel in this place."
"You changed the hotel's Wi-Fi to Free Porn – click me long time,” Liza blames.
Sid snorts, "Yeah." She grins, proud of her accomplishment.
"It's not funny," Liza cries, covering her face with a hand.
"It kind of is," I say, still not happy, but able to admit the humor.
Dropping her hand, she glares at me. "Not helping."
"Come on," Sid draws. "It's only Wi-Fi. It's not like I gave everyone free room service or reversed room charges."
/> "You could do that?" I ask, intrigued.
She gives a sly smile, and says, "Maybe."
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, ending my opportunity to ask more about her hacking capabilities.
"I can't take you anywhere." Liza throws her hands up, striding away from Sid and down the hallway.
"Liza," she calls after her cousin, following.
"Hello."
"Mr. Shaw, this is Susan, Mr. Lawrence Preston's legal aid."
"What can I do for you?" I ask my lawyer’s assistant.
"I'm just calling to update you in regards to Gertrude Johnson and the minor Sean Johnson."
"And?" I press, walking into the kitchen to reclaim the drink I poured before the Wi-Fi incident.
"The guardianship papers will need Miss Campbell's signature. They are being brought over now for her to sign. Just return them to him and he'll bring them back to us this afternoon."
"When will they be final?" I lift my juice to my mouth and gulp.
"They should be filed with the state by the end of the week. We'll send your copies as soon as they come available."
"So, they should be here in two days?"
"Yes, sir."
I visualize the girl nodding.
"I also wanted to let you know, Mrs. Johnson, the boy's grandmother, will not be returning to their previous home. It looks like she will have to go into an assisted living home. You may want to let Miss Campbell know so she can coordinate the retrieval of Sean's things."
"Do you know where Mrs. Johnson is being sent?"
"No, sir. I'm afraid I don't."
"Okay, thanks. Tell Lawrence to call me when he's free. I may need him for something else shortly."
"I'll let him know."
"Thanks."
Disconnecting with Susan, I walk to the couch and call Julia.
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't start with that sir shit again," I admonish, settling onto the sofa.
"I don't feel right using your name," she laments.
"Julia—"
"She's right," Julia hiccups. "I'm so sorry for the choices I made that night."
"I get why you did it. Liza doesn't understand the dirty side of working with public figures."
"But she's still right."
Sighing, I rub the back of my head.
"Yeah, Julia, she is," I confess.
"I'm sorry." She sniffs.
"I know you are, and, if you want to make it up to me, I need you to add something else to your list of tasks."