In knowing, they also comprehended without needing words that she was no longer welcome in the house I'm paying for.
"You stupid fuck!" I clench my fists and step into his room.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I narrow my gaze and assess both of them. Traven is the first to speak, even while Cass's eyes eat me up from head to toe like she has the goddamn right.
"Didn't think it'd be a big deal," he says by way of excuse.
My eyebrows hit my hairline. "Not a big deal? I was regularly fucking her less than seven months ago, Lockridge. She caused all of my fucking problems! Get her the fuck out of my house!"
He decides to grow some balls, standing up from his bed. "I pay my way in this house just as much as you. If I want her here, she can be here." I see Cass jerk her head in a nod, pleased with someone standing up for her dumb ass.
"You pay a percentage of the bills, not equals," I growl, taking a menacing step forward. "And if you don't want to lose your place in this house, I'd suggest you toe the. Goddamn. Line!"
I know I've made myself clear when his eyes narrow on mine, and he says nothing in return. There's always a time and place with him, and Traven is the type to bow down like a subservient little pup before he gets the shit knocked out of him. It's the only reason I allowed him to move in here with us. The only fucking reason.
Pleased with his silence, I flick my gaze in Cassandra's direction. "Harloe and my son," I emphasis my words for more effect, so she gets the drift and beats feet, "—will be here any minute. You better not be if you know what's good for you."
Jerking to her feet in skyscraper heels, she crosses her arms and pins me with a glare. "I warned you that we weren't over, and you didn't take my warning seriously. This is your last chance before I take action into my own hands."
"I'd rather eat fucking shit than be within your vicinity. Get. Fucked."
Adrenaline buzzes in my veins as I turn around and make my way out of his room. Slamming the door behind me, I clench and unclench my hands to try to work some of the aggression out of my system. What I wouldn't give for a punching bag right about now.
As I come to the top of the stairs, Leo meets me about halfway up, eyeing me up and down. His gaze hardens when he notices my state of anger. "What's wrong?"
Without looking at him, I stop beside him at the steps and look out through the top balcony window. I seethe low and gritty, "Get her the fuck out of my house," before continuing my way down the stairs.
Heading straight for the fridge, I grab a cold Budweiser and unscrew the lid, guzzling it. One of the best things about having an influential name—you get shit, even if you aren't legal yet.
As I'm throwing my bottle away, there comes a tiny knock from the front door. It's slow, unhurried, as if the person has to think for a moment how they want their knuckles to land on the weathered wood. A smile gently pulls at the corner of my lips, fighting with the anger still buzzing underneath. But, eventually, it wins out because I know whose little knock that is.
Barreling my way toward the front, I double-check everything before opening the door. The first thing I hear is Harloe's womanly giggle that seems to go straight to my aching member, and a tiny, three-foot-tall bundle of energy screams, "Daddy!"
Immediately, I bend down and pick him up. My large, muscular armbands around him, underneath his little diapered butt, and props him against my large chest. His little arm falls lazily onto my shoulder like he's the king of the world and has no worries, and he instantly starts casing the place like a CSI investigator.
"Cool digs." I snort—this kid.
I give Harloe a warm smile, and before thinking better of it, lean toward her and kiss her on the cheek, taking her off guard. She gasps, and I know right then and there, that's the best sound in the world, apart from Maverick's voice and laugh.
Tickling his belly, I chuckle when he slaps at my hand, unable to keep from laughing. "Ready to meet the gang, little man?"
"Yay!" he screeches excitedly.
Pumped, I take him into the kitchen to meet Leo first. Honestly, and I'll never admit this out loud, I'm a little scared of how the guys will react to him. We've never had to censor anything we do, but with Maverick, we'll have to start.
The instant Leo sees him, I legitimately see the bond forming right before my eyes. Maverick's eyes are wide with wonder as he looks all over Leo, from the lion tattoo spanning his side to the dark scruff lining his jaw. Leo takes in Maverick's face, and short, chubby body.
"So, you're the one causing trouble," Leo says, shooting him a soft smile.
Maverick smirks in return. "Momma says trouble is my ... middle?" He looks back at Harloe as if to make sure he's saying it right, and she smiles while nodding. He turns back to Leo with a grand smile. "Middle name. Hi, I'm Mav Trouble."
We all break out into a fit of laughter. Leo's eyes flit from Maverick to me, where he gives me a shit-eating grin. Later, he's going to tell me what that's all about, I'm sure. Plus, I probably already know what it’s about.
He's probably thinking the kid is just like me, looks and snarkiness. And you know what? He's not wrong.
"Let's go meet up with Zeke."
"Zeke?" Maverick asks, testing Zeke's name on his tongue. He says it again, "Zeke." Then again. "Zeke." And the third time, none of us are ready for it when he tilts his head back and releases this shrill scream that seems to perforate all our eardrums. "Zeke!"
"Maverick, honey." Harloe is right there, through the ringing in our ears, chastising him.
I can rightfully attest that he got his lung power from his mom.
"It's all good, Lo. Boys will be boys." I give her a taunting grin, to which she rolls her eyes.
"Already with that. Geez," she quips. "That won't work forever, Hunt."
Just as Zeke comes calling, I lean in and whisper in her ear, "Forever sounds kinda perfect."
A rosy red tinge scalds her cheeks as she slaps my bicep and leans away. Getting to Harloe is easy, and I like seeing the effect I have on her. The only problem is, I wish I could do something about it.
Slow and steady wins the race, though. America wasn't built in a day, and our forever has more complications than the forefathers had back in the seventeen-hundreds. It's going to take a lot before we're even to the point of trying again.
I'm not saying if, either. It's all a matter of when. Because I refuse to not have Harloe in my life as my wife and the mother of our future children. She may think our past is too hectic and chaotic, but I kind of consider it a blessing. We got through that, in seemingly one piece. And if we can get through that, we can get through anything.
"Hunter, stop."
Smiling, I take her off guard and peck her cheek again. Her blush turns a shade darker, and her eyes search through the room as if to make sure no one saw that.
She better get used to it. I know I don't have any right to kiss and hold her with all things considered. However, with all things considered, I’ll kill anyone who tries to do that job for me. In high school, I could blame it on stupidity, for what made me believe such lies and filth. But I'm more mature now, and I'm ready to pay for my sins.
No matter what it takes.
CHAPTER 37
Every time I feel his eyes on me, I can't help but squirm under his intense, heated gaze. Clearly, Hunter is ready for something more than I can offer him at the moment. Especially with the way he acts toward me—like we've never been apart.
Standing by myself, I watch as the guys circle around Hunter. He proudly has Maverick in his arms, showing him off just like a proud papa. His smile entrances the entire backyard, and dare I say ... me, too.
Sighing, I relax in the shade with my feet curled up under my barely covered butt. While today is reasonably warm to be mid-November, maybe I shouldn't have worn the navy fitted sundress with lace cap sleeves. However, the moment Maverick wanted to wear his tiny little slacks, I knew I wouldn't be able to wear anything remotely comfortable.
Tugging on
my hemline, it barely budges an inch. It's not the stretchy type material that I'd usually go for. Instead, it's tough and unrelenting—just like someone I know.
While the guys continue to munch on food, some making conversation with each other and Hunter and Maverick, I choose to sit back and watch how Hunter handles his first role as a dad figure—taking care of the little one’s needs alone.
A snorting laugh catches in my throat when I watch Maverick slap at his burger, and a portion of the ketchup he likes to drown his food in flies through the air and lands on Hunter's shirt. But then, the joy stunts inside while I wait and watch for Hunter's reaction.
Is he going to lash out? I mean, he hasn't yet, but you never know. People hate being embarrassed, and some would consider food on their clothes as embarrassing. Will he tap Maverick's butt or scold him?
However, none of those happen. Hunter merely rakes the offensive condiment off his shirt and wipes it on a napkin before going back into conversation with one of his teammates.
The cookout was only supposed to be a small affair, but when the wind got around that the guys were cooking out for the “coming out” of Hunter being a dad, all their friends came for some food and laughs. It doesn't bother me much, even though I'm the only female here. I'd much rather be by myself than having to make polite conversation with people I don't rightly know.
"Hey, marshmallow!" Easton crows from beside me. I turn my head to see a shit-eating grin on his face.
I give him a small smile and then go right back to watching Hunter and Maverick, not too up for conversation at the moment while I sift through my thoughts. Apparently, Easton doesn't get the memo that I want to be left alone. He sits down right beside me, offering me a cigarette from his pack.
Craning my neck, it's then I think about it. It's been weeks since I've seen Hunter with so much as a butt in his mouth, let alone a full cigarette.
Tilting my head in Hunter's direction, I focus my eyes on Easton. "Did he quit or something?"
Surprisingly, he nods. "Yeah. Right after it came out about little man over there."
I sit back, stumped. "I had no idea."
Admittedly, I did notice there wasn't his usual nicotine cloud wafting around him. Some days, it was stronger than others. Just depended on how stressed he'd been. But, now that I'm thinking about it, I haven't smelled anything on him, save for his cologne and Spearmint.
Wonder why he never told me?
From my peripheral, I watch as Easton nods his head. "Didn't want a reason to not be able to see his kid."
I nod before I’m able to process his words. When I do, I'm taken aback by the meaning. "I wouldn't have stopped him from seeing Maverick. Over smoking?" I bark out a deprecating laugh. "Come on. Give me more credit than that."
He lifts a shoulder with a half-ass snort. "Weirder things have happened."
"Not saying there hasn't, but I'm not that type of person," I return in a huff.
It seems Easton is good at poking that nerve people have. Regardless of if he knows he's touching it or not, he's dangerously close to pissing me off.
First, with Jenna, who still won't tell me what went down between them—at least, not fully, anyway. And secondly, pretty much every girl he comes in contact with.
Easton is a major player, and he knows just how good he looks, with his short dark hair, thinly scruffy jawline, and muscles like Aries himself. Easton goes to war when he's got his mind set on something, and he doesn't back down until he makes his point.
There's absolutely no way I would have kept Maverick from Hunter simply because of an addiction. No, I wouldn't allow that around our son, but I didn't stop Hunter from doing his own thing. Suspiciously, it sounds like Easton believes I'm that type of person, and I have to admit, that stings a little.
"You kept his son away from him for two years. He wasn't about to take any chances."
I sit a little straighter. "Is this coming from you or him?"
He must hear the tension in my voice, because seconds later, Easton flashes a sad smile of apology. Lifting a cigarette to his mouth, he flicks his lighter and lights it, taking a long inhale. "It's all me. Funnily, none of us know what Hunter's thinking nowadays."
An audible exhale releases from me, causing Easton to smile wider, eyes shimmering with amusement. Prick. "You love getting people riled up, and just digging under their skin, don't you?"
Nodding, he replies, "Especially if they use the skin as a suit of armor."
A knowing look passes between both of us, but neither of us digs into the subject anymore. There's a mystery just begging to be solved with this one. However, I don't have it in me to delve that deep. Something tells me that Easton isn't as carefree and happy as everyone seems to think.
He's just really good at hiding his demons.
We quiet down into companionable silence, while he smokes and I continue pondering, but this time over his words and not my thoughts.
I really don't want to believe that Hunter quit smoking simply because he thought that would prevent him from seeing Maverick. While that may not be important, sooner or later, I'll have to dig into that just like how we dug into the pains of our past when he finally returned after our diner date for paternity.
My vision must become unfocused, because the next thing I know, I feel a slight tap on my shoulder. Glancing up, I see Hunter staring down at me from his towering height. It takes a moment to catch my breath as the sun beams down on his back, casting him in a gold hue like a god from Olympus.
He smiles, and I nearly choke on my tongue while swallowing. "Do you want anything?"
Hunter's voice has always gotten to me, even in high school. Yet this deep, gravelly timbre is a new addition. If his appearance didn't suggest his growing, that voice sure does. It's deliciously dark and tantalizing.
"Sure." I give him a smile in return.
A tutting sound comes from beside me after Hunter turns around and heads back toward the house. A quick scan of the yard shows Maverick laughing and cutting up in Leo's arms. I smile, on less alert knowing he’s with someone I can trust.
"He's got it bad," Easton inserts, causing me to whiplash my head toward him.
"Who? Hunter?" I snort a laugh. "Yeah, right."
Looking at Easton really closely for the first time, I finally see the hard set of his jaw and the blank look on his face. Taken aback by the impact of what this means, I remain silent and mull over it. Would it make me ... Would people think I was ...
"He's in love with you, Harloe," Easton breaks into my thoughts, causing a roar of emotions to swell in my throat.
"You don't know that," I force out, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Crying in front of all these people would just be the icing on the cake.
Scooting his chair closer, he takes me by surprise when he grasps both of my hands and forces me to meet his penetrating gaze. "That guy has changed his whole life. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He gave up everything. Everything. That man loves you. Trust me, I know what that looks like, and it's written all over his face every time he looks at you."
"What are you talking about?" I murmur, afraid of what he'll say.
Licking his lips, he pauses for a moment before saying, "He should be the one to tell you. Not someone else. So, all I'm going to say is talk to him. He'll tell you."
After, Easton gets up and tosses his smoke into the receptacle near the back corner of the house. Bounding his way across the lawn, like he didn't just fill my head full of questions, he runs straight toward Leo and Maverick, causing the latter to giggle uncontrollably.
I sit there for a moment, my eyes drifting over toward the house every few seconds or so. Maybe he's right. Maybe I should ask him and hopefully get everything straightened up. Things I didn't even know needed to be rectified.
Standing up, I run my hands down my dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Gathering all the courage I can possibly muster, I make my way toward the house. My flip-flop covered feet crunch the grass under
neath as I make my way toward the guys.
This conversation is one that needs to be done without the attendance of an impressionable two-year-old. Stepping around the guys, a few of them chorusing their greetings, I smile politely and then bend down to Leo's ear, who looks up at me with a confused expression.
"Do you mind keeping an eye on Mav?" I whisper, hoping he does. "Hunter and I need to talk. I'm going to go in and get something off my chest."
Nodding, he relaxes back into his chair. I lay a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly in thanks before I shove away from the table and quietly make my way inside. Resolve burns in the valley of my stomach, creating rocket fuel to power me through what's about to be a tense conversation.
Slipping through the sliding door, I close it softly behind me. The need to be quiet is a weird one, but for some reason, speaking inside while everything is quiet and undisturbed feels wrong somehow.
Casually making my way toward the living area, I crane my head to listen for him. I know he's in here. Actually, he was supposed to get me something to drink, so why isn't he in the kitchen?
The thought hits me out of nowhere, maybe he didn't quit smoking, and he's trying to hide?
He probably saw Easton outside smoking, and he started jonesing for one. He could have come back outside if he wanted one. I wouldn't have thought any less about him. Inhaling, I smell the scent of cigarettes, and my shoulders relax, for some odd reason. I didn't even know they were tense.
Creeping down the hall, I prepare a big smile for him, to show him he doesn't have to hide his vices from me. We all have them. I'm insanely addicted to chocolate, which isn't good for my waistline, but ... to each their own, right?
The smoke is strongest outside his cracked door. Glancing around, I catch all the other doors open and inviting, and then turn my head back toward his. I prepare to knock when I hear him talking. Instantly, I know who he's talking to.
Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1) Page 34