King of Regret: An Academy Surprise Baby Romance (Boys of Almadale Book 2)

by Jacie Lennon

  I swallow the bite I was chewing and sit up, placing my food back down on the plate before dusting my hands off.

  “My mom took off a few years after she had Bodhi and me. I guess we were around three or so when she decided to leave.”

  “Your mom is still alive? I thought she had passed away.”

  “That’s generally what we tell people or let them believe. It’s not something I like to rehash and definitely not something Bodhi talks about. It affected him more than me.”

  “Wait, your mom left your dad? Your dad. The billionaire?”

  This isn’t adding up. Who leaves that kind of life?

  “Yeah, well, he wasn’t a billionaire at the time. He hadn’t even inherited the company yet because my grandpa was still alive.”

  “Okay, so do you know where she is?”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. It’s the longest, most drawn-out pause of my life.

  “It’s Drake’s stepmom,” he finally says.

  I freeze in place. I shake my head a few times, convinced that I didn’t hear him right.

  “Stephanie? Stephanie Portley is your mom?” My mouth drops open at his confirmation, and I stand abruptly. I place my hands on my hips, but that doesn’t feel right, so I drop them. Staring down at him where he sits, sandwich in hand. I drop back down on my ass and shake my head again.

  “Better close your mouth before you catch a fly,” he says, taking a handful of chips from the bag.

  The rustling distracts me, and I glance at it for a moment before looking back at him.

  “What the hell? That’s your connection to Drake? That’s why you hate each other?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “How did your mom end up with Bull Portley?”

  “They were high school sweethearts, and after she had us with my dad, she sort of went off the deep end. We think she had postpartum depression, but she refused to see a doctor or talk to anyone to get help, so it was never confirmed. She eventually told my dad she was done and packed her bags, leaving him with two rambunctious three-year-old kids and his sick father to take care of. Grandpa died five years after that, and Dad got the company. He worked his ass off for us and for the life we now live.”

  “Has she ever tried to come back?” I ask.

  He pauses for a moment, his tongue licking the corner of his mouth, and I want to capture it with my own.

  “No. I mean, she’s never tried to get back with my dad. Who knows her reasoning? She did try to see us a few times when we were a little older, but Dad refused and brought lawyers in and everything. After that, she never tried again.” He shrugs, but I can see that it bothers him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, leaning forward and resting my hand on his leg. He covers my hand with his own, squeezing it.

  “You aren’t mad?” he asks, and my eyes widen.

  “No. Should I be? That’s your family. I shouldn’t expect you to tell me that stuff if you don’t want to.”

  He goes quiet for a while, and we finish our food. I sit back, patting my belly and feeling full. The calmness of the Montgomerys’ backyard and slight trickling of the infinity pool lull me to a sleepy state, and I close my eyes, breathing deeply.

  “You ready?” Brock’s voice cuts into my reverie.

  I crack one eye to see him standing over me, one arm extended. I reach up to grab his hand, and he pulls me to standing.

  “Ready for what?” I ask, and he smiles, reaching for my uniform top and starting to unbutton it.

  “To put that swimsuit to good use,” he says.

  29

  Brock

  If I thought Peyton looked amazing in the surf shop dressing room lighting, it doesn’t compare to the sight of her in the sunlight glistening off the top of our pool. She has her hair done up in a messy bun and those fuckin’ sexy glasses perched on her nose. The yellow swimsuit she chose with my help brings out the olive undertone in her skin and makes her brown eyes stand out.

  And now, I’m standing here, waxing poetic, as I watch her step into the water, letting it lap against her thighs. I reach down to adjust myself, not wanting her to see how much she affects me. Not wanting her to know that I’ve never let a girl affect me the way she does.

  I learned early on to not put my trust in women, but it seems that I might be breaking my own rule. Fuck it. I know I’ve already broken my rule. Hell, I brought her here to get her away from a toxic situation. I’ve made a deal with the devil—two devils, if you count her father. And I’m now buying her shit and letting her stay at my house. All to see her smile, to feel her touch, to satisfy some strange urge inside me to make her happiness my top priority.

  “Coming in?” She turns, a smile on her face as she bends to trail her fingers through the water.

  I follow the curve of her ass as it dips down to meet her thighs, wishing I were behind her, inside her, right now.

  “Yeah, I gotta go get my swimsuit,” I say, returning her smile. Then, I turn and force myself to calmly walk inside the house, only reaching down to adjust myself once I’m out of sight of the pool.

  “Brock?” A voice has me glancing up, and I see Dad is standing in the doorway, reading glasses on as he sifts through a stack of papers in his hands. “What are you doing here?” He stops shuffling and fully looks up at me.

  I didn’t expect him to be home. I thought he would be at his office in the city, about an hour away.

  “Yeah, I, uh … brought someone here with me.” I fumble for the right words.

  I didn’t think I was going to have to introduce the two different worlds of my life to each other today, but it looks like I didn’t plan very well. On top of all of it, I have to figure out how to sneak out and give money to Peyton’s dad. Sperm donor. Whatever you want to call him.

  “Who? And why haven’t you been answering any of my calls? It’s been two days, and I don’t like not hearing from you.”

  “Shh, keep your voice down,” I say, looking behind me to make sure Peyton hasn’t magically appeared to hear what he was saying. Then, I step forward. “Come on. Let’s talk in your study.”

  Once I’m seated across the large mahogany desk from my father’s questioning eyes, I regret caging myself in here with him. At the moment, I’m keeping too many secrets from too many people. Apparently, that’s what I do. It didn’t used to be like this. My life wasn’t that full of intrigue for me to have to keep stories straight.

  “Well?” Dad clasps his hands in front of him and leans forward. “What is going on?”

  “Nothing is going on,” I say defensively and then take a deep breath. “I brought Peyton here. She had a bad day today, and I wanted to get her out of school.”

  “That’s nice of you. I am glad I’ll finally get to meet her. I’ll tell Ms. Anderson to set two extra places for dinner.”

  “Listen, Dad. I met with Drake, but Peyton doesn’t know about it, and I’ve only just told her about Mom and the connection there, so maybe don’t bring that up.”

  He twists his mouth to the side for a moment as he stares at me, and I want to wilt under the disapproving look he gives me.

  “Keeping secrets from her?”

  “She didn’t want me to get involved with her life,” I say, and Dad barks out a laugh.

  “A little late for that, don’t you think?” he asks, and I groan.

  I rake a hand down my face and lean forward, resting an elbow on each knee.

  “Look, we will talk about all of this later. She’s waiting for me in the pool,” I say as I go to stand up.

  “Son, you are getting older, and I know you don’t want my input, but I have to tell you that if you don’t let me know what’s going down soon, there will be repercussions. I still control the money in this family, and you don’t turn eighteen for two more weeks. I want to help you, but you have to open up.”

  The earnest look on his face sends a pang of regret through me for what I’ve put him throug
h, and I flinch.

  “Got it.” I stick my hands in my pockets and then cock my head toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Looking forward to it,” he says with a smile before glancing down at his papers again as I leave.

  Peyton

  I’m lying on a float in the water, the sun beating down on my face, and gently running my fingers through the pool.

  “How are you doing?” Brock asks.

  I crack one eye open to look at him. He’s solely focused on me with his arms looped over an inflatable doughnut, a water bottle clutched in one hand and his cheek resting on one of his biceps. I close my eye again and smile.

  “I’m okay,” I say.

  “No, really. Your dad agreed to never see you again for a small sum of money,” he points out, and I blow out a breath.

  “It’s not a small sum of money, not to him. Not to me,” I say, turning my head a little and bringing one hand up to shade my eyes. “But I’m okay. He’s never truly been a father. He only wanted me back to settle a debt.”

  “What do you mean?” Brock’s voice turns gruff, and damn if it doesn’t turn me on.

  “He has some sort of debt he owes the Lions, and he was trying to use me for it,” I say with a shrug.

  To me, it’s not news. I’ve had time to think on it and come to terms with it, but Brock stops lounging and immediately stands, walking over to where I’m floating.

  “Your dad was selling you to the Lions?”

  “Basically.”

  “Fucker. I’m not giving him the money.”

  My stomach drops at his words. I don’t want to be a leech. I will eventually pay him back. I’m not sure how, but I will. No matter how this started, it’s been nice to have someone in my corner, someone who can do something to help.

  “That’s up to you, but if you don’t, he will be back. And I’ll work my ass off to pay you back one day.”

  “When is your next doctor’s appointment?” Brock asks, and his abrupt change in subject makes my head spin.

  “I’m not sure. I think in a couple of weeks,” I say, sitting up on my float. I hold my hand out for the bottle of water, and once he hands it over, I take a long swig. “Why?”

  “I want to be involved.”

  “You’ve always had control over everything in your life, haven’t you?” I ask him, cocking my head to the side, and he stills, staring back at me. “You grew up in a gilded mansion, money at your fingertips. You reign supreme at Almadale. People fall at your feet, and you don’t know the meaning of the word no.”

  “That’s not fair—” he starts to protest, but I hold up a hand.

  “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I find it interesting that you might not be the father of this child, and yet you still want to know everything. You take care of me, your brother, your friends. You take care of Landry, and from what she tells me, you two don’t even get along that well. You like to be in charge. I guess I’m saying all of this because I want to know where I fit into this. Are you interested in me because I might be having your child, or are you interested in me?”

  I’m not sure where this entire monologue came from, but I realize how much I’ve wanted to know the answer to that exact question. I’ve been in limbo, trying to figure out how my life is going to change, what I’m going to do with it, and maybe his answer will give me some sort of insight. I’d like to say, I’m not one to upend everything for a guy, but look at how far I fell with Drake. I don’t want to make the same mistake here. I don’t want to be played for the fool if I’m not the end goal. I’d rather get out while I’m ahead.

  “I think it’s both,” he finally says after what feels like the longest pause of all eternity.

  “Both?” I want a better answer.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, your feelings are your feelings, but I’m going to need a little more than you think it’s both.” I know I’m backing him into a corner right now, but the way my life has gone, I can’t afford to hang around someone who doesn’t know what they want when it comes to me. I look around at the pool, the gardens, and the back of the mansion I’m currently at and figure that I should probably get out now, when I’m not accustomed to this kind of life.

  Can you miss something you never had?

  “Come on, Peyton. Don’t be like that,” Brock says, walking to my float and grabbing it with both hands.

  I should have floated out to the deep end, where he couldn’t tower over me like this.

  He brings both of his arms down, caging me inside them, and pins me with his icy-gray eyes. “Don’t try to put labels on us or blow this thing up before it’s even started. I’m almost eighteen, and so are you. This is a huge life decision. It’s not something to be taken lightly, and you should be glad that I’m not telling you that I’m sure.”

  My face is burning while he’s talking, and I’m thankful we are outside in the sun because at least I can blame it on that. He’s right. We hardly know each other well enough to promise forever, so I can’t fault him for holding back. It’s what I’ve always done. Until Brock.

  Maybe it’s the hormones overriding my brain and telling me it’s a good idea.

  I bat at his arms, suddenly feeling stifled by my embarrassment, and when he raises them, I push up on the float. He’s still pinning me down with that intense gaze, and I return it with one of my own.

  “You’re right. We don’t have to figure out anything right now. And once I get the results of the paternity test, we can talk.” I cringe as soon as I say it, but when he hears me say the words paternity test, he stills.

  “When will you have the results? I never even asked.”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t ask for a timeline,” I say.

  He blows out a long breath, and I watch him run one hand through his wet locks before he turns around and walks toward the steps in the pool.

  “Where are you going?” I call after him, and he turns to look over his shoulder.

  “I’m going to sit down.”

  “I wanted to deal with it myself,” I say with a shrug. “If I didn’t have to ask you for the swab, I would have done the test and dealt with the results on my own, without involving you.” I sink into the cool water from the float, hissing as it hits my skin. I swim toward where Brock has sunk onto the second step and stop in front of him. “Are you mad I chose to get the test?”

  “No, it’s your choice. I guess wondering and knowing are going to be two different things.”

  “It might change things,” I say, my hands gripping his thighs as I stand in front of him and his muscles tense.

  “Yeah,” he says, staring off at something in the distance, “it might.”

  It’s weird that we haven’t talked about this more since I gave him the paternity test. Maybe it’s finally sinking in, what this will mean for us.

  I push up in one surge and press my lips to his, wanting to feel something besides this tense anxiousness that’s settled over both of us. Once we are connected, Brock takes over, pressing his hands into the hair on either side of my head, holding me to him, his mouth devouring mine.

  We are both desperate to get out of our heads and lost in each other.

  30

  Brock

  I look at the text message that I got about the drop one more time, and I turn off onto the gravel road in the middle of nowhere. This doesn’t look right from what I can see in the headlights. I can tell that Corbin and Bodhi think it’s sketchy, but they’re not saying anything.

  Drake texted me about picking up the “supplies” last night while Peyton was asleep in my arms, in my bed, in my room, in my house, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Sneaking out of her warm embrace left a bad taste in my mouth that hasn’t vanished, even now that it’s the day after, but I know I only have myself to blame. I got myself and the guys into this situation, and now, I’ve got to get us out of it. I picked up the supplies, and Drake told me the drop was tonight, so now, we are headed into the desert with no id
ea of what to expect. Idiocy at its finest.

  We bump down the unpaved road, dust flying everywhere until we get to where the pin is dropped on the Maps app. I don’t like that we are caged in on all sides by sand dunes, except for the exit, and that I don’t know this area. We are an hour outside of Almadale—technically, in Loredo territory, I think, but we’re so far out in the desert that I can’t be sure. I lost service fifteen minutes ago, and I’m glad that my GPS kept working.

  “Where are we?” Bodhi asks, glancing around at the desert terrain that we can see.

  I shrug because they know as much as I do. I showed them the message.

  “This is where the GPS said to go. I’m following directions.”

  “I don’t like this at all,” Corbin says as he checks his phone and then groans. “No service. Of fucking course.”

  “I told you that forever ago, dipshit,” I say.

  I glance at the time and see that we’re ten minutes early. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel.

  Something about this doesn’t feel right, but I chalk it up to us being involved in illegal things. It shouldn’t feel right.

  “Not quite sure how you got us into this mess, but I sure hope you can get us out,” Bodhi mutters under his breath, and I want to jab an elbow into his rib cage. I don’t like that he’s voicing the thoughts I had only moments before.

  I’m as irritated as the rest of them about this, but it’s something that has to be done.

  We wait in silence for about five more minutes until my ears perk up at the sound of a motor.

  “Is that—” Corbin asks as I hold up one hand to quiet him, cutting the engine off and taking the keys out of the ignition before we hastily climb out of the car, looking in the direction we just came.

  We listen for a moment longer, and it is the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine racing toward us. But it’s not coming from the direction we entered, like I expect whoever we are meeting to arrive. It’s coming from beside us, where I see no discernable road. I whip around, trying to peer into the darkness, but I can’t see anything. Not even a headlight.