by Shey Stahl
Ember comes walking out with Marley. I eye the two of them, waiting for the explosion of hormones I assume is coming from Marley, or the hatred radiating from Ember.
I finish the rice in my mouth, swallow, then smile tentatively. “Everything all right?”
Marley shrugs, steps forward and digs through the bags. “Did you get orange chicken?”
I point one of my chopsticks to the larger container. “Yeah. In there.” And then I gesture to the chairs around me. It’s utterly amazing I have a dining room table. My eyes meet Ember’s. “There’s plenty of food. Unless Adler keeps eating this way.” He’s halfway through his third egg roll. It’s a good thing Ember ordered three times my usual order.
“No, thanks.” Ember’s eyes drop to the floor. Why is she acting like this? We eat dinner together all the time. Why is tonight different?
I stand, setting my chopsticks next to my fried rice. “I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t have to.” After hugging Marley, she leans in and whispers something that makes Marley giggle and then she nods. They’re probably talking shit about me. Ember turns and begins to walk away like she can’t get away from me fast enough.
I catch up with her at the door and place my hand against it, refusing to let her escape so easily. “Why do you try so hard to avoid me?”
“Because you’re complicated.”
This time it’s my turn to frown. I’m complicated?
“Okay, well you might be trying hard to make me believe you don’t need me, but I need you. They need you.” Maybe that will get her. Baiting her with kids is always a good idea. Women dig that shit, don’t they? Isn’t it some kind of motherly instinct. “I suck at this. They like you.”
Ember whirls to face me, color in her cheeks and strands of jet-black curling around her temple. Her beautiful blue eyes rage with glory. “They like me because I paid attention to them today. I listened when they talked. How long have you had them?”
I shrug. Why is she asking me this? She knows how long I’ve had them. “Couple days. What does that matter?”
“In those couple days… have you learned anything about them? Or taken the time to ask them how they’re feeling after losing their parents? That’s heavy shit for a kid. Especially Marley. She’s at a fragile age and lost her mom at a point in her life where she needs her the most.”
I hadn’t considered any of that, and I admit, I’m pretty self-absorbed. “No, I haven’t. But it’s not like I’ve had much time. I have a job and it’s demanding. It’s not like I can just put football on hold.”
Ember shrugs and gives me that ‘you’re such a dick’ face I get weekly from her. “Then I guess you have your priorities straight then.”
Frustration forces a groan through my lips. “C’mon now. Don’t be like that. I’m trying. Can you like help for a little while? I’ll pay you extra to take care of them.”
“I already barely have time for everything you need.”
“I’ll pay you double, hell, triple what you make now.”
“Landon,” her words falter, like she’s almost considering it. When Ember agreed to be my assistant five years ago, it was temporary until I found someone better qualified. Only I refuse to hire anyone else because nobody can do it like Ember does. She’s the most efficient, organized person I know and I trust her. In my line of work, I have to be able to trust my assistant with everything. Hell, I have to trust her more than I trust my friends and girlfriends. She has access to my goddamn bank account, for Christ’s sake. No way I’d let just anyone into my life like that. And now with these kids, I’m certainly not going to let some stranger off the street take care of them. “You really should hire someone else. I have a life and it’s not babysitting.” Do you sense the ridicule in her words? The cold edge of irony? I do.
“Yeah.” I grind the word between my teeth, running my hand over my jaw and leaning back into the wall behind me. “I had a life before this, too.”
Silence envelopes us before Ember sighs, reaching for the door handle. This time I let her, but she pauses, refusing to look at me. “I’ll do it for now but we’re going to look into hiring someone for this.”
Maybe if I work fast, I can finally show her I’m not just after her pussy. I am, but she doesn’t need to know that. And I can’t even explain if I’m after more than that. I might be, but I’m so fucking lost I can’t decipher what it is I want.
Either way, it’s an opening in the defense and I’m taking it.
“Thank you.”
She still doesn’t turn to me. “You owe me big time.”
And then she closes the door in my face. Maybe she wants repayment in dick? Look at her. She’s covered in tattoos and bad as fuck. You know a girl like that likes it hard and rough and all fucking night. You might not be surprised to know that before I met Ember she was into all that crazy shit, too. She’d been dating her boss, Percy, and he was a Dominant. I didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about that lifestyle until she told me about it. I thought women didn’t like that sort of thing, but not Ember. She was down with the handcuffs and being whipped with belts… the dark underground I’ll submit to you, Master. Not that I’m against that kind of thing because I can get down with a woman who wants to be owned and told what to do in the bedroom, but she claims she left that lifestyle behind when she came to work for me.
Heat rushes through me at the thought of doing those things to Ember and the lucky son of a bitch who got to before I came into her life, and I have to mentally block the images of her naked form flooding my brain. I haven’t seen her completely naked yet, but my mind can be pretty creative at times. I’ve seen her in a bikini before and that’s close enough.
Crying inside the condo brings me out of my pornographic moment and deflates any hope I have for time alone tonight. Time to play Mr. Mom again because Nalani found her way onto the table and dumped my fried rice all over the floor. Damn it.
“Dude, cool it with the sauce.” Marley’s there at the table, picking through her chicken and rolling her eyes at Adler pouring sweet and sour sauce over everything on his plate. At least he’s using a plate now.
“I like the sauce,” he tells her, then dunks a fortune cookie into it.
Reaching down, I pick Nalani up off the floor and set her on my lap. “I can’t believe you wasted my rice.” She’s squirming around and has a handful of rice in hand. I should be concerned about that, and I will be in about two minutes. For the time being, I’m worried about that hormonal teenager across from me. Looking at Marley, I smile at her. “You okay?”
She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m fine. Thanks for getting Ember.”
A feeling hits my chest. It’s one of contentment, maybe even pride because I did something fucking right for once today with them. Now to get rice out of the baby’s diaper and guess what, my hair. Told you I should have been concerned about it.
Ever tried to get rice out of a baby girl’s parts? Yeah, well, try getting cooked rice out of your goddamn hair. I’m tempted to call Ember back over here, but then again, I can handle this, can’t I?
Football is a game of inches, and the margin for error is so small. One half a step too late, or too early, and you don’t make it. A half second too slow, too fast and you don’t catch it. Every minute, every second can make or break the game. Kids… they fight for that inch, and they want someone else fighting just as hard for them. Even if they stuck cooked rice up their ass.
Bit – When a defender falls for a fake.
As I head back to my place, I’m not even joking when I say my knees are wobbly. It’s fucking pathetic. And disappointing. My heart’s racing like I’ve run a marathon and there’s electricity running through my veins. It’s awful. It’s like this every time I’m around him.
Stop smiling, you fool. Stop it!
I can’t believe I’m smiling over him. Or am I smiling over the kids? I think it’s a little of both, to be honest. I absolutely adore children and in the few d
ays I’ve known the Slade children, I love them. Each one and their individual uniqueness.
For someone who is a night person, I’m really regretting agreeing to this. But did I agree?
Yeah, damn it, I did. #yourefucked #heownsyou
“You’re all flushed, girl. Where’d you go?”
I give Cat a “what the fuck” expression. Had I been gone so long she forgot where I went? Sometimes it’s hard to know what she’ll remember and what she won’t.
“Marley started her period.” Do you notice the way I’m looking at her? I’m hoping she didn’t just forget what happened fifteen minutes ago. Twenty tops.
“Oh, right.” Cat’s face flashes with familiarity. “How’s she taking it?”
“Scared and confused. It’s to be expected.”
When I sit down on the couch, Cat joins me and crosses her legs Indian style. “Man, remember when we started ours?”
“Yeah. I freaked out, and your mom had to show me how to use a tampon.” I’ve known Cat my entire life. Well, what I consider my entire life. I met her after my dad split and left me and my brother. Cat lived down the street from my aunt’s house with her mom. Apparently my dad just thought to himself, shit, I can’t handle my kids so I’m just gonna leave them with my sister. So he did. Two weeks later, he was in Vegas with some chick and I haven’t heard from him since.
After finding me living in her closet to escape my crazy aunt, Cat’s mom let me live there with her. I couldn’t stand my Aunt Heidi. She was awful to me but loved my brother. Cat’s mom let us do whatever we wanted, so naturally I wanted to be there. I mean, hello, I got a Twinkie whenever I wanted it. When you’re a kid, that’s a huge deal and my aunt was such a health freak we couldn’t have any of that.
Before Eldon, my brother, died, he was in and out of juvie and pretty much a troubled kid. I say that nicely because I loved him more than anything in the world, but his ability to make a good decision was pretty much non-existent.
At least Cat and I have only been arrested once, and I won’t even go into that ordeal just yet.
“I remember when you started yours,” Cat notes, remembering my first-period incident. “You were wearing that plaid skirt and fishnet pantyhose with combat boots.” And then she busts up laughing.
I’ve always been fashion challenged, or as I like to put it, a trend-that-hasn’t-happened-yet-setter. Mark my words, fishnet stockings will come back and not just in the porn industry.
It’s amazing to me that Cat can remember something that happened eight years before the accident but the fucking enamel is coming off her teeth because she can’t remember if she brushed them so she brushes them again. I wish she’d forget my awkward teen years when I didn’t have style, but nope. She remembers that shit.
“So… did he convince you to watch the kids too?”
“What do you think?” I sigh, and it comes out way more breathy and dreamy than I intend for it to. “I don’t know how he always talks me into everything I say I won’t do.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true. You said you wouldn’t have sex with him and that hasn’t happened yet.” She pauses and raises her eyebrows. “Or has it?”
“No, it hasn’t.”
She smiles, her eyes practically giddy with excitement. “I love those kids.” I hate the gleam in her eyes because I know Cat took a liking to those kids today. Especially Haisley. Which means if she likes the kids, she’ll want to be around them, and I’ll feel even more like a dick when I find a nanny and she’s not around them all day. Cat works part time for Starbucks just so she can get out of the condo for a little while and be around society, but in no way can she not have supervision. I leave her for a few hours here and there, but between her and Landon, I have no time for myself, and now with the kids, that’s even less time for my art.
It might sound selfish of me, but I’m twenty-three now and even further from my dreams of becoming an artist than I was when I met Landon. Now where will I end up?
“It’s only for a day, or two. Or maybe a few weeks. Just until he finds someone.”
Disappointment tugs a frown into place. “Why can’t we do it all the time? How fun would it be to babysit the rich, famous, and smoking-hot’s kids?”
“Hell. It’d be hell,” I point out. I can’t even imagine what nannies of the rich go through. Landon’s nieces and nephew are great. Maybe they’re just good at putting up a front. Like a kangaroo. They look cute and harmless, but the moment you approach one, they sucker punch you in the stomach.
Trick Play – Also known as a gadget play, gimmick play or simply trickeration. It’s a play in American football that uses deception and unorthodox tactics to fool the opposing team.
Remember the days when you slept in and had nothing going and could pretty much lie there all morning? Yeah, me too. It was last week.
Now that life, the beautiful freedom to do what I want when I want, it’s a vivid and depressing memory of the past. One I can honestly say I’m pretty fucking bitter about.
Do you ever get that feeling someone’s staring at you? I am. Peeking one eye open, I’m met with little hazel eyes and a smile, which means it’s Haisley. The other kids don’t smile as much as she does.
The morning sun filtering through the room catches the flecks of gold in her auburn hair. Sighing, I ask, “What are you doing in here?”
Yawning, she rubs her back. “Can I sleep in your bed?”
Curling into my pillow, I peek at the clock. It’s five in the goddamn morning and she wants in my bed? “No. Go back to sleep.”
“My back hurts from your floor.” I stare at her, knowing where this is going. “Your bed looks comfy.”
“It’s not that comfortable.”
“Can I see?”
Fuck, she’s persistent. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Her hands take up residence on her hips. “You don’t like me, do you?”
“I don’t know you.” Her face crumples with the words and so do I. “Okay, fine. You can get in here but no moving around, ya little wiggle worm.”
With bright eyes, she hauls herself in my bed and then brings with her about fifty fucking stuffed animals. Where she’s been hiding them is a mystery to me, along with how she carried them in here without me noticing.
“I said you could come in bed with me, not your army of animals.” She sets a bear by my head. Naturally, I frown and side-eye the blue bear with huge freaky eyes, then Haisley. “What are you doing?”
“You’re not friendly. Maybe a cuddle might help you.”
I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. “I doubt that.”
“It makes me feel better when I miss my mom and dad.” Her expression falters, her eyes flooding with tears at the mention of them. Fidgeting with another stuffed unicorn in her hand, she pauses for a beat, and then those sad eyes lift to mine. “They gave me all these. I have to sleep with them every night.”
My throat tightens. I bet you think I’m too much of a hardass to care, don’t you? These kids do too. I’m not. Well, I suppose I am in some ways, but I’m not a completely heartless prick. I understand they’ve gone through something tragic and to be pushed on to a man they’ve never met, aside from Marley and the twins when they were babies, that’s not easy. I get that. Patting the pillow, I get her to lie down with me, the two of us facing one another like we’re pillow talking.
“I know it’s hard. You miss them, don’t you?”
Stupid question, man. Of course she misses her parents.
“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice as small as she is. Worming herself against my chest, she wiggles in place.
Hesitantly, because I know nothing about comforting a child, I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “Don’t be scared.” And then I kiss the back of her head. Are you surprised? Shit, yeah you are. I am too. Who knew I was capable of this kind of heartwarming affection? And then I wonder if Ember were in here, would this change her perception of me
? It might. Maybe I can text her and make something up about needing her to come into my bedroom and then she’d see the tender side of me. The one comforting a scared child. Surely all women fall for that shit, even the ones who hate me.
Maintaining I’m not a senseless asshole, let’s swing back to the kid, though. Just when I think she’s going to stay cuddled against me and I might get a few more hours of sleep before I have to head to practice, she moves, shifts in the bed while kneeing me in the junk, and looks at me. She’s facing me again like before, only this time she curls her hands under her left cheek. “You don’t want us, do you?”
Never mind the fact that I’m seeing stars from the junk punch, do you notice the way her eyes are watching mine? The way they search for the admission she’s fearing? I can’t break her heart any more than it’s already been, but I also can’t lie to her. “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I don’t know what I’m doing. Your dad and I weren’t close. I didn’t even know he had all of you, let alone that he would have chosen me to be your guardian. It’s all a lot to handle, you know?”
“You’re scared too, huh?”
I nod. She looks like she’s going to cry. Fuck. I hope she doesn’t. She cried in the airport the other day and I ended up spending forty dollars on a stuffed bear, the one near my head actually.
One hand frees from her cheek and she touches mine carefully. Her warmth radiates through me when she smiles and says, “You look like my daddy. You have his eyes.”
“You know whose eyes you have?”
Her smile widens. “Whose?”
“Your Grandma Leslie’s.”
“Your mommy?”
I nod. I don’t think about my mom that much anymore. It’s a passing memory time has faded. When I do think of her, I remember her hazel eyes.
“She died too, huh?”
Again, I nod, a rush of unnamed emotion flooding through me.
“Did it make you sad?”
“It did. I was about the same age as you are now.”