by Max Henry
In front of Tuck’s dad.
Shit. I tug the bottom of his son’s shirt down my legs, hoping I don’t appear to tarty dressed in Tuck’s clothes the morning after.
“Hi, Mr Brallant.”
“Kurt.” He runs his eye down the length of me. “Please.”
“You slept well,” Dad remarks with a lift of one eyebrow. He buries his cheeky smile behind his mug, elbows on the table.
“Dad.” Tuck approaches the free seat at the table slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“Dropped young Christian off to get his car.” He nods toward the living room.
My feet skid across the hardwood floor as I fly toward the open archway and lay eyes on the prince of Riverbourne himself—spread-eagled on our sofa.
“Feeling okay?” I tease.
He lifts a limp hand, waving me off. “Quiet.”
“He’s still too intoxicated to drive home,” Dad states. “I told him he could sleep it off and get some food in him before he even thinks about getting behind the wheel.”
“Hard night keeping up with us country folk, huh?” Tuck quips, passing by to refill the kettle.
“Hard night keeping up with your old man,” Christian replies.
Everyone looks at Kurt.
“We had an interesting conversation,” he defends. “It called for a drink to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?” It takes Tuck two goes to set the kettle on the base beside him, his focus squarely on his father.
“I’m investing in your dad’s horse thingamy,” Christian groans, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “One-third share.”
“You’re doing that?” Tuck lifts his brow, seemingly surprised.
Kurt shrugs one shoulder. “About time to move on, don’t you think?”
He can’t say anything, so instead, Tuck simply swallows and nods once. I cross the kitchen and slide my arms around his waist, hugging his back. I’m not sure what business exactly they discuss, but clearly, it’s something that means a lot to the both of them.
Well. All three of them now.
“This is cosy,” Colt states, wandering into the kitchen. His gaze drops on Christian. “And disturbing.”
“Come on,” Christian drawls. “We’re practically family already.”
Dad chokes on his coffee.
“I’m missing the joke here, aren’t I?” Kurt glances at everyone in the room, seeking an explanation.
“Don’t ask,” Dad mutters, shaking his head.
I stifle my giggle against Tuck’s back. It’s nice to be able to make jokes about our situation. I suppose, in a way, it shows how the pain has lessened. If we’re able to make light of our unusual connection, then the hurt can’t run as deep.
“Hey.” I back away from Tuck and step across to pin Christian with a hard stare. “If you’re here alone, where did you ditch Barrett?” He seemed happy last night, among his friends. But I’m not sure he was okay to fend for himself yet.
“I left him with Mandy. She promised to keep an eye on him.”
Interesting.
“Relax, princess.” Christian opens his eyes and rolls to his side so he can face me. “I’ll call him later.” His eyes are bloodshot, face pallid. I’ve seen Christian hit it hard more times than I can count but, damn, whatever he downed with Kurt last night must have been the real good stuff.
“He’ll be fine,” Tuck assures me. “Cate and Mandy stayed sober so they could get the bikes home.”
“Well, I’m going to head off.” Kurt rises from the table, downing the last of his coffee as he does. “Got rounds to do.”
“Shoot.” Tuck scrubs a hand over his head. “I should come and give you a hand.”
My gut sinks. I hadn’t made any concrete plans, but a day with my guy seemed like the obvious choice.
“No.” We’re both taken by surprise when Kurt sets a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You stay here with your friends. I’ve got this today.”
“Are you sure?” Tuck frowns, obviously torn on how he feels about this change in his father.
Kurt glances over his shoulder and winks at me. “I’m sure.”
I don’t know what this weird feeling is. Joy? Relief? A crazy mix of both? I don’t know what to do with myself. Tuck’s dad more-or-less gave him the tick of approval.
He’s okay with us. Both our dads are.
I couldn’t care less about what my mother thinks; her opinion is void when it comes to my happiness.
But this. It’s as though the last roadblock was dismantled, and the path forward is clear now.
I’m nervous about accepting the feeling, the niggle in the back of my mind reminding me that good things don’t last long—at least, in my experience.
But I’ll take it.
One day at a time.
If they’re all like this one, I can’t wait for tomorrow.
GREER
Waking up in Colt’s bed was a mix of heaven and hell. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, but that bliss brings with it challenges.
Namely my parents.
The hum of conversation filters through the bathroom door while I sit on the closed toilet, shower running hot beside me.
Their messages stopped around eight last night. The whole day, my parents had bombarded my phone to the point I needed to recharge it on the way to the party. And then they fall silent.
I could take it as a win, but I’m not that naïve.
I need to face them today and settle this dispute; however, that outcome looks.
The room grows steamy, the water ready to scald my skin free of expectation. I strip off and leave my phone tucked between the layers to save the screen fogging up, and then step under the water.
My body aches in places it has no business feeling exhausted, Colt’s touch last night firm and resolute. The same as his opinion about us.
He said he’d follow me wherever I go, and I don’t doubt that he’d find a way even without his mother’s wealth backing him.
Not that her bank account is bottomless these days, anyway.
My memories pause on Derek as I wash away the exhaustion and the lies. Why does he want to help me? It’s obvious why he’d offer to work for Colt pro bono when there’s a blatant indiscretion he’d like to keep quiet. But for me?
I have nothing to offer in exchange.
The towel is warm yet scratchy on my skin, not the luxury thread count I’m accustomed to. But in a way, I appreciate it more. It’s just a towel. A strip of woven cotton. But it represents so much more.
It represents a life lived on my own terms, not cushioned and protected by my parents’ ignorant privilege.
I redress slowly, enjoying the quiet time to think. My hand hovers over my phone when I reach to lift it off my shirt. I have a message waiting, and not from who I’d expect.
Richard.
R: I trust the night was uneventful?
But do I trust him enough to reply? You don’t have to give away any details.
G: It was an enjoyable time. Thank you for asking.
R: Cut the pleasantries, Greer, and be real with me. I kept the thorn in your side busy … you’re welcome.
I stare at the screen and then send it to black, tugging my shirt on with haste so that I can get out to discuss this with Lacey. She turns at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and I take the opportunity presented to usher her toward me while everyone else is distracted.
“What’s up?” She directs me into her room on a whisper, checking nobody watches before she pushes the door most of the way closed behind us.
I show her the message thread. “Has he contacted you?”
“I dunno.” Lacey hands my phone back, then darting around her bed to check her own. “No.” Her confusion matches mine.
“Why just me?” I muse out loud. “And what does he mean the thorn in my side. Libby is your problem.”
Lace lifts an eyebrow, dropping gently to the side of her bed. “Are you sure about that?”
I frown, still frozen near the door. My hands grip the edges of my smartphone with painful desperation.
“You’re the next logical threat for her at Riverbourne,” Lacey explains.
My chest tightens. “About that.” I offer a wan smile. “My parents threatened to ship me a boarding school overseas if I refused to stay away from Colt and, well…” I gesture behind me toward his room.
“What the hell?” Lacey positively seethes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was so much else going on.” I cross the room and take a seat beside her, one leg braced on the floor. “You had your things to work through.”
“Greer,” she whines. “This is massive. You should have said something.” She takes my free hand between both of hers. “We’re best friends, you knucklehead. We share this stuff.”
My eyes burn. “I know.”
“What now, then? Are you going home today?”
“I have to.” I drop my chin, staring at the black screen of my phone. “Derek offered to help discuss the details with my parents to try and have me stay, but I don’t know if it’s worth it.” I meet her wide eyes and voice the thought I’d barely dared allow myself to indulge in. “What if getting away from the Chosen bullshit it the best thing to do?”
“Then you get good at keeping in touch,” Lacey says with a sad laugh. “I don’t want you to go,” she laments, squeezing my hand. “But I get it. I mean, look at me.” Tears rim her eyes as she gestures to the room.
“Change is always good, right?”
She nods, then pulling me into a tight hug. I hold on to her for a while, relishing the comfort and connection. We’ve both been tugged so many directions this past year, and, to be honest, I’m most proud that we’ve come out the other side sure of who we are and what it is we want.
“What about Colt?” Lace asks, pulling away. “I don’t want to make you feel bad, but he’s the happiest I have ever seen him.”
“I know.” My heart swells, knowing I’m not the only one who sees the good in him. “He said he’d follow me wherever I go.”
An enormous smile crosses her face. “He so will.”
“Right?” I chuckle.
She launces off the bed, crossing to her closet. “I’m coming with you this morning.”
“Pardon?” I twist to find her pulling out clean sneakers.
“When you go home to talk to your parents. I want to be there for you.”
As much as I love the gesture. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. When Colt is the reason behind this, they might not like it.”
Her face falls, shoes drooped at her sides. “Oh. You’re probably right.”
“Besides,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You have a hot cowboy to play with.”
“I know, right.” Shoes discarded on the floor, Lacey rushes across the room and leaps on her bed with a squeal. Bouncing on her knees, she strokes the comforter between us. “It was so awesome waking up next to him.”
“I know what you mean.” I smirk.
She playfully slaps me on the arm before reality sets in again. “You’ll get to do it all the time when you’ve finished school. You’ll always be welcome here.”
My throat closes over, and all I can do is press my lips tight and nod.
I will always be welcome with my true friends. But the peace will never find me along as I have unfinished business at home.
“I better got tell Colt I’m ready to leave.”
TUCK
“Where the fuck is your shirt?” Johnson calls, dropping out of the Ford.
I stand in the middle of Lacey’s driveway to greet him and Ed, feet planted wide and a refreshing coffee in hand. “Otherwise engaged.” I jerk my head toward the truck. “Wasn’t expecting you two to visit.”
“We’re not.” Johnson reaches out to drop a set of keys in my hand. “Tell Christian the car is at the shop. Greer can get her insurance company to pick it up from there.”
“Her car?” I frown at the Audi key tag.
“He damaged it yesterday, and she left it on the verge near Red Mountain Road.” He shrugs as though helping out the Riverbourne crew is no big deal. “I said we’d retrieve it, so it didn’t get stripped for parts overnight.”
“That’s where you went last night.”
He nods. “Saw it there on our way back from the city, and Richard asked around to find out why her car was abandoned halfway to Arcadia.”
“Huh.” That’s pretty cool of Johnson to do when he doesn’t like the city dwellers.
“Anyway.” He turns heel and heads back to where Ed waits in the truck. “We’ve got shit to do.”
“What now?” I narrow my eyes on the pair as I approach Ed’s open window. “You aren’t kidnapping any more Prep students, are you?”
“Not unless she wants us to,” Johnson teases.
Ed smacks him in the chest as though he wasn’t supposed to say anything.
I frown, turning my head slightly to one side.
“Gayle,” Ed explains with a roll of his eyes. “We said we’d go and check out her digs since she’s been out to ours.”
“Right.” I let the word linger between us as I back away.
Johnson starts the engine. “Promise we’ll behave, dad.”
I flick him the middle finger. The jerk laughs as they back around and then tear off with enough speed to spray gravel in my direction.
“Motherfucker!” I twist, shielding my face with one arm, using my body to protect my coffee with the other.
It’s a good brew; like hell, I’ll let him ruin it.
“What did they want?” Colt asks, glaring out the kitchen window when I re-enter the house.
I ignore his nosey arse and step through to where Greer sits on the front edge of the armchair cushion, tense as all hell. “Here.” I drop the keys in her hand. “Your car is at the mechanic in town here. They’ll keep it secure behind the fence until you have someone pick it up.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Thanks.”
“Christian arranged it.” I nod toward the lanky twit.
He stretches out on the sofa, legs extended before him, and arms folded over his head to cover his eyes. “I can’t wait until you all leave, and I can get some quiet.”
Colt crosses the living room with a wicked smirk and leans down beside Christian. “What?!”
My father’s business partner jolts upright, narrowly missing connecting his fist with Colt’s laughing face as Lacey’s brother jerks backward, tumbling over the footstool.
I still can’t wrap my mind around how that looks; Christian investing in my father’s enterprise. But if I’ve learned anything since the Williams siblings brought Riverbourne back to town, it’s that help can come from the most unlikely of choices.
Look at my father. Never in a thousand years did I think Kurt would back me in something of this dramatic scale. And yet, there he was, watching on and making sure I didn’t step too far out of line while offering his opinion only when he felt I needed to hear it.
“Willow says hi,” Colt announces from his position still sprawled on the floor. He pockets his phone and then rolls to the side to stand. “You ready to do this, babe?”
Greer sighs. “I guess.”
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“Greer’s going home,” Lacey says sadly.
I move to where my girl stands before the unlit fireplace and wrap my arms around her. “Why is everyone so bummed about it?” Surely, she can come back whenever she wants?
“It’s complicated.” Greer rises to her feet and accepts Colt’s outstretched hand. “Thanks for having me, guys.” She smiles softly. “It’s been real.”
“We’ll catch up when I’m back in Riverbourne,” Christian tells her. “I think we need to discuss a few things.”
She frowns, opening her mouth as though to ask for more, but he ushers her away with a flick of his wrist.
“Now isn’t the time, Greer.”
<
br /> I let Lacey go so she can see them out, hands in pockets while I wait for her to return.
Being on my own never bothered me. I’ve always been the guy who’s as comfortable in a crowd as he is in the back blocks without another living soul in sight. But since falling hard for Lacey, I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when she’s not around.
Nothing else brings the same sense of fulfillment as she does. Call me corny, or call me an old romantic, but all I want to do is make that girl smile and hear her laugh.
“You have explaining to do,” she barks out, finger pointed at Christian as she re-enters the room.
Guess I won’t be making her smile any time soon.
“What the hell is up with your dad and Greer?”
“He wants to help.” Christian shrugs as Lacey’s dad re-enters the house with an arm full of kindling to start the fire.
I step to the side so he can dump it in the basket. The room stays quiet while he drops the pile, noticeably so.
“Stop sweating,” James teases. “I’m going back out to get the wood in a moment, and you can talk about whatever you don’t want me to hear then.”
“Dad,” Lacey groans. “Stop it.”
He grins, lifting a hand to signal we should continue as he exits.
“As I was saying.” Christian smirks. “He feels obliged to help.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Lacey drops her arse on the arm of the single chair, facing Christian.
He pulls himself up straighter, leaning forward with elbows on knees before he drops the bombshell of the fucking century. “Derek is Greer’s biological father.”
“What the fuck?” Lacey hollers, jolting to her feet. “How long have you known?”
“A year or two?” Christian shrugs as though it’s no big deal that his father has another child.
“Does your mother know?” I ask.
“She has her suspicions.”
“Holy shit,” Lacey breathes, pacing the room. “Holy shit!” Her hand hovers before her mouth, eyes wide as she stares at Christian.
“What did I miss?” James steps in the door with an armful of wood.
Lacey just stares, shocked silent. I don’t know if it’s my place to say anything.