I may not have arrived with ulterior motives, but now all I can think of is how he is in bed. With me. And if I admit that to Astor, I’m sure she’ll sigh with disappointment.
Yet another girl who shows so much promise, falling for her unreliable brother.
I’m different from the rest, but not in a special snowflake way. I know that screwing around with him could deteriorate any remaining relationship with Lily, and I can never, ever let that happen—no matter how much my hormones want to betray me. No matter how much sexual restraint it takes to keep him at arm’s length.
Astor senses the change, and her expression tightens with suspicion, but she doesn’t push the subject. She doesn’t have to. I know she’ll be watching me.
What she doesn’t know is, I’ll be watching myself.
“Locke’s been through…a lot,” she says with a pensive swirl of her straw. “Not to say you haven’t, but that’s what makes it more concerning. The two of you have been through ridiculous shit that people our age shouldn’t have to deal with yet. And I’m worried that’s bringing you close to him, but not in a healthy way. In an isolating, lonely way.”
She risks a glance at me, and for a minute, I think I’m staring at Locke, that it’s him attempting to understand me, warn me, that we can never work even though we both want it badly.
“He…” Astor trails off, licks her lips. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m seeing a lot of things I shouldn’t. Like how you and my brother are with each other. The way whatever room you’re in…shrinks…with something so all-consuming you guys don’t know there are other people around. No one except Lily, that is.”
Astor’s picturing the three of us as a tight-knit family, and I lick my own lips in response because that very realization has been drying up and crumbling my heart since the moment I noticed it, too.
“So, you need to know,” Astor continues, more determined. “When Locke was injured, he was bedridden for a long time. It gave him too many moments on his back, way too much boredom. He’s always been intense. Deeply addicted to his sport, committed to success. His drive was a force, and it bowled anyone else who didn’t believe in him out of the way.” She shakes her head as if attempting to get back to the point. I’m afraid to say anything to interrupt. “It nearly killed him, being told he couldn’t play anymore. Or even be benched. He was out, for good.”
“I saw the video,” I can’t help saying. “It was terrible.”
“Even worse to witness it firsthand,” Astor admits. “As soon as the doctor gave him the news, I knew I was at risk of losing my brother. Whatever remained in him without football…God, I didn’t even know. I hadn’t seen that part of him in so long. He’d become so arrogant, so into himself and his wins. But now, he has nothing. So…he turned to the worst.”
I lean in closer.
“He found he liked his pain killers, Carter. A lot. Coupled with alcohol, he discovered how he could escape his new life, and he liked being in that place. Didn’t care if it killed him.”
My mouth parts at the same time a sinking begins in my stomach. “I…I didn’t know.”
Astor straightens. “Of course not. That’s a secret Locke keeps well hidden, because he thinks he’s over it. Big surprise—he hates all secrets except those he keeps about himself. Typical Locke ego. He thinks his friends have gotten him through the worst of it, and they have. Ben…Ben did everything he could to get Locke out of that black place. But Locke still visits there sometimes. He hides it well, but I’m not stupid.”
My spine goes stiff. “Is Lily in danger?”
“I mean, I’m not convinced Locke is okay. And learning he has a kid…fuck, I was terrified he’d spiral.”
“That doesn’t tell me what I need to know,” I say. I’ve always been told lawyers love to hedge, but Astor’s driving me crazy. “As far as I was aware, Locke was doing great. And now you’re telling me he could be an addict.” I start to stand. “If Lily’s not okay with him, I’m taking her right now—”
“No!” Astor puts a hand on my wrist. “Shit, no, please stay. If you think for one second that I’d leave a baby with Locke when he’s not okay…” Astor sighs. “You don’t know me. So, how I’m coming across doesn’t make sense to you. I’m-I’m venting. Trying to make you understand who Locke is as a person, how much he fights for what he loves. Not to inform you that Lily’s at risk.” She rubs at her face. “I’m doing a horrible job. I’m so bad at this,” she says, dropping her hand. “At getting to know people. Especially those as deeply involved with Locke as you are.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say, but my voice has lost its edge. I sit back down, but my mind’s traveling days, weeks back, and sifting through all the moments where Locke could’ve shown weakness. Where pills could be involved. The absolute agony on his face in the form of harsh lines the other day, at the corners of his lips, his forehead.
His sharp denial when I told him to take pain meds.
Oh, I’m such an idiot.
Astor stares at me levelly, and I feel her assessment as easily as if she’s gliding her index finger down from my forehead to my toes. “It’s funny. Everyone who cares about Locke is worried how you’ll rock the boat if you’ll swipe what’s remade him from under his nose and leave him adrift. But no one is considering how this storm is affecting you.”
I swallow. Take a drink to soothe a suddenly parched throat. Spoiler alert—I don’t like being under Astor’s study.
“I’m going on year two of dealing with the worst moment in my life,” I say. “I can weather whatever will come at me next.”
“Strong,” Astor murmurs while stirring her cocktail. “Bet Locke didn’t expect that.”
“Why not? He has you,” I say. The longer this conversation goes on, the more I’m willing to spar. “You seem pretty tough.”
Astor barks out a laugh. “Someone has to corral him. His friends encourage more than they supervise.”
“I’ve only met them once. They seem…nice.”
This time, Astor’s laugh is genuine and long. “They’re intimidating as shit. They’re all too smart for their hot bods to operate properly. All that glorious, slick muscle usually trumps any of their logic, and their little heads usually win all arguments with their big ones. I can’t believe Locke had you walk into that.”
“I don’t think he meant for it to happen. They were going to meet Lily, door or no door.”
When Astor smiles, something happens to her normally cool composure. It’s like a different woman looks back at me once I warm her up. “That sounds like them.”
“What do you think of Ben?”
Astor zeroes in on me. I lift my drink innocently. She invited me to the roast. It’s only fair I add a little sizzle. And at her careful once-over, I suspected she knows it.
“Ben’s a good guy,” is all she’ll say.
I can’t help it. I spare a glance at her ring. She notices. “There’s nothing going on between Ben and me.”
“Was there ever?”
Astor chuckles under her breath, shaking her head. “I underestimated you.”
“I’m learning that around here; it’s better to bite than to poke.”
“True. Locke has some tough people around him, but we’re loyal. You get us on your side, you have us forever.”
I nod. “I remember what that’s like.”
“You can rest easy knowing that our insane loyalties, our protective hearts, will go all in for that little girl.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
Astor nods. “And I see it in Locke. I’m glad Lily has made him stronger, has given him a purpose other than himself. I realize now that’s exactly what he needs.”
“It’s true. You should see how he’s growing with her, it’s like—”
“What he doesn’t need is a girl to screw all this up.”
“—he lights up with Lily, I can’t—” I blink. “What?”
Astor makes sure I’m paying attention, her
gaze unwavering. “He likes you. I saw you two together one time, and I felt it as sure as a spider crawling along my arm. And Locke is very good at appearing strong, confident, and cocky like he’s got his shit together. But he’s not. He doesn’t. He’s vulnerable.”
“I-I know that.” I almost lay a hand on hers before I shy away. “It’s why I stayed. Yes, mostly for Lily, but also for him. He was so lost, but there was also a focus in him, a need to be a good father. I’m here to help him become that, nothing more.”
“You’re vulnerable, too,” Astor says. “The two of you could be cataclysmic. Promise me you won’t cross that line. I can’t have that Locke come back again. The one who cares about nothing but existing until he dies. Not a second time.”
Something trips in my brain. “Second? But I thought it was just the injury—”
We’re interrupted by the server clearing our drinks in an obvious passive-aggressive move for us to clear the table if we’re not ordering anything else so bigger tippers could step in.
When he leaves, the moment to pry has gone. I go for her hand. Her ring is sharp against my palm. “He has Lily now, Astor. And I’m not here to ruin him.”
Astor searches my eyes. “God, you’re beautiful. It’s petrifying you’ve lasted this long with him and still remained platonic.”
“I…thank you?”
“Sorry. I’m too blunt sometimes.” Astor breaks our connection by sitting back and laughing. “Both of us have demolished our drinks during this very intense conversation. What d’you say we get another round and go dance off some tension?”
“Oh…I don’t—”
“Dance? Of course, you do. Everyone does. Especially after a tequila shot. Come on.”
Astor’s up and grabbing my hand before I can protest, and after ordering two shots, then refreshing us with new Jack and Cokes, pulls me down the stairs and onto the small dance floor where people and noise drown out all concerns within its musical rabbit hole.
20
Locke
I wake from an awkward sprawl on the couch to the downstairs door banging open.
Blinking, grumbling, I fumble in the dark for my phone on the floor somewhere to check the time. Three a.m.
I put Lily to bed eight hours ago and have been crashed out ever since. Carter would’ve been proud of the bedtime routine—I followed it to a T. Scheduling is in my DNA, and I had that baby bathed, bottled, pajama’d, sleep sacked and in her crib by 7:15. And like Carter assured, Lily accepted it all with little fuss.
A checkbox in Carter’s column, for sure. Whatever she and Paige had done to help this little girl go to bed without screaming, I’m forever thankful for.
Paige.
She’s like a curse word in my mind. The instant I recall her, I think back on our night, what happened, and how I’m hiding it from Carter.
It’s crazy how concerned I am over what Carter might think. How she’d see me if I ever admitted to her how Paige and I came together in the first place. It’s bad enough Carter’s leaving for good in three weeks.
Speaking of…
The apartment door creaks open, light from the hallway pooling inside the dark interior where I’m hidden. The shadows still encase me as I see one leg flash inside, then a torso, then tangled hair.
I crack a smile as she trips over her own feet. The mermaid has washed ashore.
Quietly, she shuts the door. Then attempts to take her heels off, and succeeds after one precarious sideways lean that almost lands her on the floor. I’m tempted to help her, but I’m more entertained by what’s going to happen next.
Like she’s a cartoon burglar, Carter tiptoes across the floorboards.
It’s when she’s almost at Lily’s nursery that I think, Shit.
One thing I forgot to do was pick up all of Lily’s toys.
A squeak echoes across the main room, vibrating the airwaves and pulling at the corners of my mouth as Carter whisper-yells, “Shit!” and trips over her feet again, this time landing against the opposite wall and sliding down.
“Lachlan Hayes to the rescue,” I say, lifting from the couch.
Instead of polite relief over being lifted up from the floorboards, Carter screeches. I have enough time to say, “What the—” before she whacks my nose and I go down on the ground with her.
“Ow!” I whisper-shout, hand to my face. “Ow, fucking ow!”
She rolls over, I suppose to comfort me but instead splays out like a jellyfish on my chest. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“No you’re not. You’re laughing.”
“I’m not. I’m-I’m catching my breath.”
Even though I can only see the top of her head, her shoulders are shaking with mirth.
“Have fun with my sister, did you?”
“Sure, so much.” Carter’s still laughing.
“You hit my nose.”
“You’re acting like I threw a football at it.”
“No, just your fist.”
“Are you bleeding?” She looks up, her eyes glittering through the dimness. “I can’t see.”
“No, I’m not bleeding,” I answer begrudgingly. “But if you wake Lily up, we’ll both be sorry.”
“Shit!” She uses her palms to lift up, except they’re digging right into my gut. I wince but refuse to emit another noise of pain.
“Did we wake her?” she asks looking over her shoulder.
“We?” I grit out through the pressure on my chest.
“Yes, we. You scared me. On purpose.”
“Did not. I was trying for chivalry while you were sprawled out in front of the bathroom.”
“I’m not drunk.” She lifts off into a sit, and I can breathe again. I sit with her. “Simply tipsy.”
“Did Astor bust out the tequila?”
“Within the first twenty minutes.”
“Oh boy.”
“She’s scary.”
I nod. “Oh, yeah.”
“But I think she likes me.”
“That’s good.” And I’m weirdly touched by the idea that Carter wants my sister to like her. “Do you like her?”
“Yeah, although she’s way nicer when she’s drunk.”
I chuckle. “She comes off as…tense to people she doesn’t know.”
“She’s got a stick, right here.” Carter points to her ass, and while we’re in the dark, just outside of my daughter’s nursery, my eyelids flare.
Carter hesitates as if she notices it. Then pulls at her skirt as if she’s figured out just how much gorgeous leg she’s showing. I track the movement, travel all the way up her hip, her breasts before our eyes lock.
“We had a talk, your sister and me,” Carter almost whispers.
“I figured.”
“You sound really sexy in the dark.”
I jerk at that. “Is that what you two talked about?”
“You’re joking. Making a joke. That’s good.”
Shit. Here is this girl outlined in midnight gloom, and for once, I have no idea what to do with such a sexy thing after a night out.
I love women. Women love me. And I tell them my intentions from the beginning—we’re not going anywhere, but we can be excellent for one night. No phone numbers, no promises.
Before the epic fuck up of my knee, I could provide a quick summation of my life easy:
Train.
Play.
Fuck.
Repeat.
No surprise, but the after became a hell of a lot more complicated. Not because women no longer wanted me, although, with no lucrative contract or pro football moniker to my name, some ladies probably wandered away. It was more because I didn’t want to. My swagger was crushed. My cravings all but disappeared. A quick fuck with a hot chick wouldn’t fix my leg.
I tried—hell if I tried—but my goddamned knee was a constant goddamned reminder I wasn’t the same anymore. The first time I tried, it was like I was a virgin all over again. I bucked, in all the wrong ways, on top of a girl with perky tits and a great
ass…and that’s all I remember because I blacked the fuck out after her thigh rammed into my knee.
These days, I fucked more out of habit. A twisted maintenance of what I once was. It took a lot of practice and patience to get close to where I once was in the sack. After the injury, I could be summed up like this:
Sleep.
Drink.
Fuck.
Repeat.
Only to be sidelined by a baby. My baby.
I wasn’t a player anymore, in either sense of the word.
Since Lily, I’ve denied myself all sins. Alcohol, fucking, anything that could derive chemical pleasure in my brain was rendered null. But that’s what it was, wasn’t it—chemically induced. But because of her, my actual baby, I’m experiencing natural highs previously unknown. No touchdown gave me the rush of seeing her grin. No championship game lightened my heart like the sweetness of her laugh tickling my ears.
But…with Lily’s laughter comes Carter’s answering smile. With her cries, comes Carter’s comfort. With Lily’s presence in my life, comes Carter.
And here Carter is, one shoulder bared from her dress going crooked, the exposed skin gleaming from the window behind her.
“I shouldn’t say something like that to you,” she says, and that has me giving a hard blink back into the present. “Especially after what Astor and I talked about.”
“What did you and my sister talk about?” I ask in a low tone.
“You.”
“Yeah, I got that much.”
“Me.”
“That’s also unsurprising.”
“How there can never be a you and me.”
I go still in the darkness. “I can understand that, too, because that would require you wanting me.”
She snorts. Actually snorts. “You’re not that dense, Locke.”
I cock my head.
Carter covers her face with her hands. “I’m an idiot. Make me stop talking, please.”
I inch closer because fuck if it’s taking everything in me to keep my hands off her. “Don’t stop talking.”
Trusting You Page 15