Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
OWEN
I hang my head as a deep well of despair overflows inside me. Why? Why me? Why now? Why with Everest of all people?
Anybody else would be better. Literally, any other person on the entire fucking planet.
But no, it has to be Everest I’m stuck in this house with. It has to be Everest I share custody of Ivy with. It’s Everest everywhere, all the time. In my space, in my face, and I have no way of escaping him.
I can’t take it anymore. I’m at my wits’ end. I’m losing my ever-loving mind.
Whatever this was just now feels like it’s been building for days, weeks. Ever since our confrontation in the kitchen in the middle of the night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I want him. So fucking much. More than is reasonable. More than is healthy.
To the point where I zone out during meetings at work, daydreaming about him. I’m constantly checking my phone to see if he’s messaged me. I’ve turned down extra work shifts so I can be home at the same time as him.
I’m hyper-aware of where he is in the house at all times. My heart skips a beat when he walks into the room. I can’t stop staring at his fucking hands.
My ears strain to hear the sound of his voice, the sound of his laughter. I used to find it so fucking annoying. It used to grate on my nerves. Now I could sit and listen to him playing with Ivy, giggling and laughing all day long.
I feel unhinged, obsessed. I need professional psychiatric help.
I should be freaking out right now about Ivy almost finding us in a compromising position. Instead, my lips still tingle from our kisses. My body is still warm from his touch. My blood thrums from the arousal he’s awakened in me.
Try as I might, I can’t get the taste of Everest out of my mouth, the scent of him out of my nose. Those baggy gray sweatpants hang unseemly low on his hips. That backward ball cap taunts and teases me. His goddamn smirk is seared onto the backs of my eyelids.
I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to erase the image of him from my mind. I need him out of there to save my sanity. I need to regain control before I do something I really regret, something I won’t be able to recover from.
“Owen?”
A hand touches my shoulder and I jump, startled. I didn’t hear him come back upstairs. My heart skips a beat at the sight of him crouching in front of me, concern written all over his face.
“Whoa.” He lifts both hands, palms out. “Easy. It’s just me.”
There’s no “just” about it. He is the opposite of just. He is the antithesis of just. He’s as far away from just as one person could get.
“What do you want?” With my hackles raised, the words come out sharper than I intend.
I expect him to say something snarky or make fun of me somehow, but I don’t sense a single ounce of attitude coming from him. He seems genuine, sincere, entirely unlike the Everest I know.
“Ivy wants pizza for dinner. I tried telling her that you probably have something planned already, but she won’t let it go. What do you want to do?”
It takes me a moment to understand what he’s talking about. Dinner. Ivy. Pizza. Wait, is he…? Is he asking me what I want to do? Like he actually cares what I think? Like he actually wants to parent with me? I’m so surprised, I don’t know how to respond.
“So?” Everest prompts when I do nothing but stare at him, dumbfounded. “I know you don’t like eating out, but…” He shrugs as he trails off and the implication is clear. But do we really want to cook right now? “If you want, I can put my foot down.”
I— He— What— This is so far outside our norm I don’t know what to say. He’s never consulted with me like this before. He usually does whatever the hell he wants—whatever Ivy wants. He’s never been so… adult.
Everest’s lips twitch. “Hello? Earth to Owen? You still with me?”
Snap out of it, Lambert . I give myself a quick shake. “Um, pizza. Right. We, uh, we can make our own pizza?”
Everest tilts his head like he’s some adorable puppy and lets out a soft chuckle. “Are you asking me?”
I huff at his teasing. “No, I mean, we can make our own. I’ve got a good pizza dough recipe.”
Everest snorts and rolls his eyes, but it feels more playful than derisive. “Of course you do.” He stands and holds out his hand to me.
I stare at it for several seconds. His fingers are long and strong. His palm is calloused. There’s a dusting of hair on the back, lighter than the hair on his head, and it almost shimmers when the light catches it. It’s an attractive hand. Hands like that should come with warning labels. Hands like that should be downright illegal.
Slowly, I lift mine and fit it inside his. When his fingers close around me, heat shoots straight up my arm and down to my dick. It’s ridiculous. It’s only a hand. He’s only helping me up. There’s no reason for my dick to get hard. And yet, it’s straining against the front of my slacks.
Everest hauls me to my feet as if I weigh nothing and I end up standing a little too close. My breath catches in my chest as I gaze up into his shining brown eyes. I can feel the heat of his body, smell the scent of the soap they stock at his gym.
I sway toward him as my stomach tightens with desire again. My skin tingles at his proximity. That hunger I’ve been trying to suppress roars to the surface, clawing at me to kiss him, undress him, taste him.
Everest steps back first and I have to stop myself from following him. He casts his gaze around the room, taking in all the things scattered on the floor. “Sorry about my meltdown earlier. I know we have to do this. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
I swallow thickly, tamping down the arousal that’s threatening to take over. “I should’ve mentioned it to you before we started.”
His eyes light up like I complimented his weightlifting skills.
“Uncle Eeevvv!” Ivy shouts from downstairs, dragging the single syllable of Everest’s name out until it’s as long as the whole freaking alphabet.
Everest cracks a smile and it feels like the sun shining warm on my face. “Come on. Our little terror is getting impatient. She might start scavenging in the pantry if we keep her waiting any longer.”
He turns and leaves, and I follow behind him, caught up in that one word. Our little terror, Everest said. As in me and him. Together. The single word winds its way through me. It’s never sounded so right and yet so ominous at the same time.
By the time I get down to the kitchen, I’m caught in this off-kilter feeling, like the high of an adrenaline rush without the requisite closure. Like I’m stalled out at the top of a rollercoaster. Like I’m falling from the sky, but the ground never gets any closer.
“Guess what, Ivy-bear?” Everest exclaims when we reach the kitchen.
She looks up from the picture she’s drawing. There’s a sun and a house, and in front of the house are three stick figures. One is smaller with a triangular skirt and pigtails. The two taller ones are on either side of the little girl, one with stubble on his face and the other with a cap on its head. Me and Everest. With Ivy. In front of our house. All holding hands.
My heart stops and my lungs seize up when I realize what she’s drawn. A part of me revolts at the idea. No, it shouldn’t be me and Everest standing on either side of Ivy, it should be Jeremy and Eden. They’re her true parents. Everest and I are just poor substitutes.
But another part of me rejoices. Me and Everest and Ivy. We mean something to her beyond the adults she’s been saddled with. She sees us as a unit. She sees us as a family.
“Pizza?” Ivy shouts.
“Pizza!” Everest throws his arms into the air. “But it’s not just any old pizza! We’re gonna make our own.”
Ivy gasps audibly. “We are? But how?”
Everest picks her up from the chair at the kitchen table and brings her to one of the stools by the island. “Well, that’s where Uncle Owen’s magic comes in. He’s gonna teach us how.”
“Really?” Ivy looks at me with her eyes wide with adoration.
Everest’s smile is equally wide and open, unassuming and honest. Standing on the opposite side of the island from them, a warmth spreads through my chest. They’re so comfortable with each other, so close and familiar. The connection between them is undeniably vibrant and genuine.
And then it hits me, the connection isn’t just between them. It’s between all three of us. That’s why Ivy drew the picture. That’s why they’re smiling at me all goofy and uninhibited.
We’re a family, or at the very least, we’re on our way to becoming one. This hasn’t all been in vain. Something good can come out of this. And that scares me to my very core.
I have to clear my voice before I speak. “That’s right. We’ll make the pizza dough from scratch and then you can put whatever you want on yours.”
“ Whatever I want?” Ivy leans forward so half of her body is on top of the island.
I try to school my face into a stern expression, but a smile tugs on my lips. “Within reason.”
She pouts, then heaves a sigh. “Okay, fine,” she says, reluctantly giving her stamp of approval.
Under their watchful eyes, I grab the big canister of flour from the pantry and the container of yeast I keep in the freezer.
“Step one is mixing the yeast with some warm water.” I fill up a glass and set it in front of Ivy, explaining how the yeast will activate and bubble up.
She stares unblinkingly at the glass, waiting for the chemical reaction. She claps in delight when the first bubbles start to form. I let her help me mix the yeasty water into the flour and she squeals when the wet dough sticks to her fingers. When we set the dough aside to rise, I pull out ingredients for toppings: mushrooms, green peppers, leftover grilled chicken, tomato sauce, and mozzarella cheese.
Ivy’s giggles blend with Everest’s booming laughter as we each make our own personal-sized pizzas. The sound echoes off the kitchen walls, filling the space with something magical and I catch myself laughing just as hard as they are.
There’s a smear of flour on Everest’s cheek. I have no idea how it got there. Ivy’s hair is falling out of her pigtails and she keeps brushing it back with her dough-covered hands. The counter is covered with bits of mushroom and green peppers, spilled tomato sauce and crumbs of cheese. It looks like a hurricane blew through the kitchen. It looks lived in.
It looks loved.
The air tastes like champagne on my tongue, bubbly and intoxicating. It’s the joy that we’ve created together, the three of us. It’s overwhelming and powerful and I feel swept up in its current.
I don’t want this evening to end. I want every evening to be like this. I want to smile until my cheeks hurt, laugh until tears spring to my eyes. I want this to continue forever.
My life was good before the accident. I had no complaints. If I could turn back time, I would do everything in my power to make sure Jeremy and Eden stayed safe and Ivy didn’t lose her parents.
But this… this is nice. Nicer than anything I’ve experienced in a long, long time. Nicer than anything I could’ve dreamed up or imagined.