by Peyton Storm
The next thing I knew, the water was gone, and he was ushering me out of the shower because he had something important to say. What could have possibly been so important? And how did things change so quickly? He went from molding his body to mine to avoiding eye contact as he fumbled for a towel while I stood unnerved and confused, creating a slippery mess on the floor.
I could feel my anger start to rise as I yanked the towel away when he made an attempt to cover me. I could do it by my damn self. Just like I always had…
Though I didn’t take the hand he offered, I followed him back into my bedroom, where we proceeded to get dressed in complete silence. I pulled out a pair of running shorts from my dresser drawer, along with a matching tank and an oversized sweatshirt, just because.
Once Greyson buttoned his jeans, he walked towards the rocking chair in the corner of my room. I watched closely as he picked up Paisley’s belongings, studied them closely, and then gently placed them at the foot of my bed. The old rocking chair creaked beneath his weight, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him sitting in it. It was the same old rocking chair my dad had rocked me in as a baby, and I had done the same with Peanut. Seeing Greyson in that moment, that space, stirred emotions I wasn’t quite ready to explore.
He must have noticed my discomfort because he abruptly stood and took to pacing, wall to wall. I watched in silence as he walked back and forth, pausing every so often to collect his thoughts. My patience, eventually, began to run thin, but just before I spoke up, he turned to me.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” he rushed, with visible relief, once he spoke the words. There I sat, once again, with more questions than answers.
Chapter 22
Greyson
I forced myself not to look at her. I knew that with just a single glance, I would lose my nerve, my will to say what needed to be said. It was a stupid attempt, but one I had to try anyway.
I didn’t have to look at her to know her cheeks were flushed from our shower, as she’d always loved the water just shy of scalding. I knew that her hair would be clinging to her body, causing her to shiver while little droplets rolled off the tips, creating a puddle at her bare feet.
It was a dick move to just toss the bath towel in her general direction before bailing out of the room but she’s the most alluring of distractions, one I couldn’t give into again, at least not yet.
We dressed quickly, followed by Presley sitting at the corner of her bed. She looked at me with confusion, and I knew I was on the clock. I sat across from her, just briefly before jumping to my feet to take one long stride after another. Rinse and repeat.
“Do you want me back in your life? If you do, I have to do right by not only you but everyone else in your life. Your best friend has, well…understandable reservations. Your dad wants my head on a stick, and who the fuck could blame him? He was decent to me, trusted me with his only daughter, and look how well that worked out. Pres, I don’t know shit about kids. Most days, I still am one. But I do know I would like to get to know her...if that’s okay.”
The next part was harder than I expected, but a part of me knew that I needed to say it, needed to hear the words out loud.
“Carter. He’s her dad. He. Is. Her. Dad.”
I had to blow out a breath I didn’t know I held in order to continue.
“Paisley, ya know, umm...Carter’s her dad.”
I sounded like a complete moron even in my own ears, but it was one of those things that my mind still found hard to believe. Saying the actual words got me a little closer.
“If all goes well, I’ll be drafted in a couple months to God knows where. But know this: I’d love to be able to visit as often as possible, we can video chat, all that. I just...I won’t be that guy. I won’t be the guy who only comes around or that you only talk to when your kid is away at her dad’s.”
Presley started to speak, but I needed to finish while I still had the nerve.
“I have to get the okay from him, too. I have to respect him as her father and go to him, talk it out man to man. Hopefully, without the cops being called.”
Hmm, Presley didn’t find that half as amusing as I’d hoped. Moving on.
“This goes beyond the two of us. Regardless of what does or doesn’t happen between you and me, you come with a supporting cast.”
Her return smile was timid but no less stunning. I reached for her hand and felt the odd sensation of what was sure to be an even wider, goofy-ass grin spread across my face. She came to me without hesitation, and when she squeezed my hand, I thought that maybe I hadn’t fumbled my words too badly after all.
The two of us crawling into a bubble all our own wasn’t an option. I knew that Presley would never be completely happy with just me, nor should she have to be. It was time to man up. I only hoped it wasn’t too little, too late.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew it was Dax. I also knew I had to get going soon. Wait. What the fuck was that? I thought for a second that my mind was playing tricks on me and that I needed to throw back some more coffee.
While I couldn’t help but watch as she made her way around the kitchen, I found myself glancing back towards the corner of her living room window where the blinds fell just short of the lower corner. The small space allowed the faint light of the rising sun to come through.
Presley returned with a mug and a smile. I needed both.
“I could get used to this, ya know.”
A faint blush danced across her cheeks. “Me too,” she whispered.
I took a long swig from the mug, glanced back over towards the window, and my blood ran cold. Someone was outside her window.
I sat down my mug and slowly rose to my feet. “Darlin’, I need you to sit tight while I check something out. Lock the door behind me.”
Mother. Fucker. There he stood, camera in hand. Asshole didn’t even bother to run. He just continued shooting, desperate to get his fucking shot even as I stalked my way towards him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
His name was Brady, a paparazzi who would have sold his firstborn for the perfect shot. He filled his pockets by stalking any and everyone whose worst twenty-second clip would garner the most clicks. I’d first met Brady the year before when he’d sold a clip of my bar fight to the highest bidder. Funny how the bit where the other asshole tossed a beer in my face didn’t make the final cut. Only my reaction was sellable, and that greedy fuck was happy to cash in.
Just as I reached for the son of a bitch’s throat, Presley’s small, delicate fingers wrapped around my bicep, and her voice pleaded for me to stop. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me lose my shit on this asshole. He didn’t deserve to share the air she breathed, and so my focus then turned to getting him the fuck out of there as soon as possible.
“Go.”
Instead of heeding my warning, he decided to open his big fucking mouth.
“I wasn’t sure why you were hanging around here, Tack. Not ‘til I did a little more homework, of course. This must be a hot piece of ass to be worth all the baggage. A bastard kid to boot? You like slummin’ it, I see.”
I’d flipped my shit more times than I cared to admit. I was never known as one to keep my cool, to have only a mild temper. Yet despite all the after school fights, the locker room, and eventually, bar brawls, I’d never completely lost control. Not until that moment.
Red. I saw red the second he spoke about that little girl. She was innocent. Never should she be punished for a lapse in judgment by three fuck all teenagers. Paisley deserved more than all of us, and fuck if I would be used as a pawn to wreck it for her.
Brady cried out when his back hit the asphalt.
“Get up. Get the fuck up!”
As he stumbled to his feet, he kept talking that shit. I was giving him all the video footage he would need to sink my pro football career before
it even started. I didn’t care. Presley’s daughter would never be touched by my mistake, my carelessness, my fuck up.
Presley’s pleading echoed in my ears, and I knew I should collect myself. After all, so much was at stake. I took a deep breath, but before I could offer him yet another chance to run, he sealed his fate by turning the lens towards Presley. My eyes cut to hers just in time to see the fear, not for herself but for her daughter and the fallout from our story going public.
“Greyson, please!”
From that moment on, there isn’t much I remember. The crumbling sound of his nose shattering beneath my fist wasn’t enough to rein me in. Even now, though it was something I was never particularly proud of, I can’t say I regret it either. What I do regret, though, was the timing.
I knew Carter was due back that morning, to bring their daughter back home. I just didn’t know it would be so fucking early. Voices grew louder as Presley tried to defend me. Carter had always seen me as beneath him, undeserving of Presley. What he rolled up on only fueled his fire.
He wrapped his forearm around my throat in an attempt to pull me off of Brady. While he was close in height, he couldn’t come close in weight, but I didn’t fight him. I needed to be led away from the situation. When he suddenly let go, I spun around to see what was going on.
I’d seen Carter pissed off many times. Hell, most of those times were of my own doing. This? This was different. His hand had replaced mine, and he damn near lifted Brady clean off his feet.
“Who are you? Who the fuck do you work for?”
His white knuckle grip didn’t ease the hold on Brady’s shirt collar despite his whimpering pleas.
“I…I just wanted the shot man. I don’t even know who you are!”
“I’m that bastard kid’s father. That’s who the fuck I am! I should also probably mention that my family owns half this fucking town and then some. I can and will have your fucking job!”
Oh, for fucks sake. Was he kidding me with this shit?
“Leave. Now.”
Carter then reached for his wallet and threw some bills at his chest.
“Get your fucking nose fixed in the next town over. It’s sitting on your cheekbone.”
Brady stumbled around, still firmly focused on his money shot. Too bad his camera suffered a crushing end underneath my foot.
“Come on, Tack! Really?”
“You heard the man. Go. If you ever, and I do mean ever come near her, her daughter, her home, any fucking where close, I will find you.”
“Fuck you, Tack! You know the biz. They care about your fuck ups more than your ball skills. Good luck in the draft, asshole.”
Brady stumbled away, leaving just Carter and I standing in the driveway. Pres had gone to his car to crawl into the backseat to check on Paisley. I could see just enough of the inside of the car to know Pres had taken her out of her car seat and was cradling her against her chest.
I had brought my shit to that little girl’s doorstep.
Presley
I gave him the time he needed for his words to tumble from his mouth. He spoke quickly, and his anxiety was palpable. Neither of us knew what the future held, nor were we looking to jump into anything serious. Given our past, not to mention our present, it was complicated.
I came with a lot. There would have to be sacrifices on both our ends. As he spoke about going to Carter, my dad even, I briefly wondered what it would be like during football season. What it would be like to have Greyson back in my life on a regular basis only to watch him hop a plane, to be gone for months on end.
How petty was I? Me, missing him for a few days while he did what he’d loved for most of his life, paled in comparison to what he was willing to face.
I asked myself why. Why he considered me to be worth the trouble. We’d made no promises, there were no guarantees. I guess we simply needed to know one another again, someway, somehow.
I shook my silly thoughts aside and figured I had my chaotic sleep schedule to blame. We’d been awake when I’d normally be sleeping and vice versa. Brushing all things aside, I decided to put some caffeine on it.
Soon Greyson would head out, and Paisley would be home. She had a birthday party to attend, so Carter had to leave his home before dawn. He was a natural early bird, so it was no biggie. Paisley, on the other hand, would have to be carried to his car and only open her eyes long enough to inhale their traditional road trip donut. Afterward, she was sure to lapse into a sugar coma for the rest of their ride home.
I didn’t yet know how Greyson and I would approach things. Would I be the one to broach the subject with my family, or would he go first? I decided to give my overactive brain a rest. After all, nothing had to be decided right then.
Honestly, I didn’t have any real expectations. Would we eventually reunite? Maybe. Would we ultimately end up as just friends? Also maybe. Some would say it was something I should have considered before jumping into bed with him again. Others, like Belle, would say I’m a grown-ass woman who can and should do as I please. I grinned at the thought of how our next conversation would go. I needed to give her a call. It was my turn to treat her for lunch.
It had been a few years, sure, but Greyson should have known better. Me, waiting in the house while he went to check something out was never going to happen.
The smarmy guy with a camera in one hand and a cell phone in the other obviously had a history with Greyson, and by the sound of things, it wasn’t a good one. Whatever their beef, I didn’t want it playing out in my driveway. I didn’t want it for Greyson either. Whatever this guy’s deal was, he wasn’t worth Greyson’s shot at the pros.
Brady was his name because, of course it was, and no matter the threats that came from Greyson, he just kept filming. He kept filming even though Greyson was twice his size. I tried pulling him away. Brady wasn’t worth it, not by a long shot, but he had already managed to get under Greyson’s skin.
My heart stopped dead in my chest when I heard the familiar hum of Carter’s sports car coming down my still sleepy street. It was black, sleek, and shiny, all without being gaudy. He teased that with its five-star crash rating, plus moonroof, it fell in line with his hot dad vibe. He was hot, alright. He too would blow a gasket. Greyson and Carter being of like minds was an unusual sight, but they both wanted to protect me, and more importantly, my daughter.
I ran to her. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me but winced at the shock of pain when I rolled my ankle on my way down the bank. Not again! Carter had parked right on the street; there had been no time to consider the driveway.
My sweet girl. She barely even noticed when I slid in the backseat alongside her. Her ice-blue eyes were wide with both wonder and fear. She’d never witnessed any type of violence, aside from the pushing and shoving on any given Sunday during football season.
How could I help her make any sense of what played out before her, featuring not only her favorite baller in her whole wide world but also her hero, her dad?
“Baby?”
She startled as I worked to free her from her safety seat. My unsteady hands finally unclipped the last buckle just as she launched herself into my lap. I cradled her to my chest, ignoring the fact her legs dangled off the seat. She was a big girl now but always, always my baby.
Questions. She had so many questions. She rattled them out quickly, her voice muffled from being pressed so tightly against me. Still, I managed to get the gist. She was scared, worried about the guys, but also confused by why it appeared okay for them to do something she had always been taught was wrong.
I’d never wanted her to see Greyson throw a punch or her dad wrap his hands around someone’s neck. Paisley knew right from wrong, and I faltered while trying to come up with the right words. I had already prepared myself for some tough talks with her. One day I would have to thoroughly explain why she only had one grandma in her life i
nstead of two. I would eventually have to go into greater detail as to why Daddy didn’t live with us. Why her skin tone didn’t quite match her dad’s and why, at times, it drew some looks. I also knew I’d one day have to risk it all and tell her how she came to be.
Years. I had counted on it being years before I had to face any of those things, and yet there we were.
She was too young. I wouldn’t lie to my child, but I would also be careful to only tell her what she absolutely needed to know at that time. The rest would indeed come, but not yet. She held close as I ran my hand up and down her back and waited for her breathing to slow before I began.
She peeked over her shoulder a couple of times, curious as to what the guys were doing. They stood side by side, both of their gazes on us. If they were speaking at all, I couldn’t tell. Their lips barely moved, and I was undecided on whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Peanut, I want you to know, you were never in any danger. That isn’t something any of us would allow. Ever.”
“But Daddy looked so mad. And why were you pulling on Mr. Tack’s arm? He was mad, too?”
I took a deep breath and hoped for the best.
“Well, Paisley, you know Mr. Tack is about to be drafted to the pros. And unfortunately, there are people out there who don’t like to see people succeed, to better themselves. You know how we’ve talked about the importance of respecting someone’s personal space?”
“Yes,” she sniffled. “People need to feel safe.”
“That’s right, and that man didn’t respect mine and Mr. Tack’s boundaries, and that didn’t make me feel very safe.”
Paisley leaned back, the tip of her nose a rosy red and tears still rimming her eyes.
“And Mr. Tack to the rescue? Daddy, too?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
She smiled big, but her brows drew tight. Paisley was deep in thought, and I could only imagine what would come out of her mouth next.