Chapter 19
FINLEY
A sweet floral scent envelops me the instant Jayden opens the heavy glass door to the glass-domed garden.
Large hibiscus shrubs grow around purple palms and beautiful bird of paradise plants.
A few benches line the pathways on either side of the large, rectangular water feature that’s framed by double height Crittall doors.
Everything is beautiful. Paradisical. Except for the fountain.
All my senses go haywire with the flash of panic that chills down my spine at the sight of the water.
It takes me a moment to gauge how deep it is—not very, but it’s proven you can drown in a little as two inches of water.
Forcing down the dread balling in my chest, I focus on the sound of the sprinkling water from the geysers in the middle of the fountain. Allowing the peaceful and hypnotic sound to soothe my fear.
“Isn’t it the most unexpected surprise?” Jayden spins in front of me, hands gesturing at our surroundings.
“Wow,” I murmur in reply, releasing the breath cloying my lungs as I drop my hand clutching Jayden’s book and the journal Elijah gave me down to my side. “It’s like paradise.”
“Closest thing you’ll get to it here,” Jayden hums back with a wide grin that dulls the wonder of our surroundings with its brightness.
His hand presses to my back, warm and heavy while he ushers me deeper into the glasshouse. The thrum of my pulse picks up every second that his touch lingers.
The warmth. The weight. The gentleness…
It’s a heady combination.
“It reminds me of home. Of my momma’s garden,” he hums through the sad lilt in his voice.
I twist towards him, taking in the lines of his face that appear to age right in front of me.
This is new.
The sound, the expression—it’s the first inkling of pain he’s shown me. It makes me wonder if he shows it to everyone, like the heart he wears on his sleeve. Jayden’s always so upbeat that you would assume he’s incapable of feeling any other way.
“She spends a lot of time up here when she visits,” he says, breaking the silent pause we’ve come to with a slow step forward. “Come to think about it, it might be her favorite place in California.”
“I think it’s mine, too,” I whisper, glancing away to take in the white petalled blooms to the side of me.
Their rich yellow centers are so perfect that they appear airbrushed on. Like they’re artificial. When I run my fingertip over one of the silky petals, Jayden tells me, “They’re called frangipani. My momma’s favorite.”
“Smells so sweet.”
“Yeah, when she was having chemotherapy, it was about the only scent that took away chemo smell for her.”
I pause to look at him again, to see his face and if it still matches the moroseness in his voice.
Surrounded by all the greenery, his hazel eyes appear greener. Giving his stare a kind of ethereal brightness that contrasts with his tightly furrowed brows.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, curling my fingertips under his. “Is your momma okay now?”
“She’s been in remission for almost a year.” He smiles, wiping a large hand over his face before he rolls his shoulders back and continues walking me toward the doors leading to the outdoor space. “You’ll meet her at Thanksgiving next week along with my mom, my dad and the Sire.”
“The sire?” I snicker at the funny face he pulls, like he’s got fangs.
“Sperm donor daddy. It’s a family joke. Jonathan is tall, pale as fuck and his hairline rivals Dracula’s.” The Jayden I know is back with his beaming smile as he adds, “Kailey and I are lucky we got our mom’s complexion.”
As we reach the doors, I glimpse behind us to appreciate the sight from this new angle.
I can’t believe Elijah didn’t tell me about this place. It almost feels cruel of him to deprive me of it.
My chest wrings painfully tight at the thought that maybe the reason he’s so distant, holding back is because he regrets bringing me here. What if everything that’s happened has left scars too deep for us to heal? To move past? To find our way back to each other, back to how we used to be?
“What’s wrong, Lucky?” Jayden curls his fingers tighter into mine, pulling my focus back to him with the slight bite of his nails.
“Nothing. I’m… taking it all in.” His eyes narrow, then his brow cocks, like he can see directly to the core of my thoughts. In a diversion tactic, I ask, “What is it like having two sets of parents?”
My gut lurches when his posture tightens.
Shoot.
I didn’t mean to overstep or offend him. I’m about to apologize and take my question back when he asks, “Do you mean two sets of gay parents?”
I bite my lip in a wordless reply, curling my toes into the rubber sole of my flip-flops.
“It’s no different to having two sets of separated hetero parents.”
“So were your biological parents together before…” I don’t know how to finish the question without sounding ridiculously ignorant.
“No,” he snickers, pulling me closer as he opens the door and leads me outside.
The sun is high in the sky, so bright that I have to squint. In my peripheral vision I’m fully aware that the view is spectacular and that out here is as breathtaking as inside, but I’m too ensnared by him to tear my eyes from his.
“My momma and The Sire have been best friends since college; they opened a psychology practice together… When it came to them having kids, it seemed logical to look to each other. My moms needed a sperm donor, and my dads needed a surrogate… and here I am… along with my two bratty sisters!”
Here he is. Every joyful and kind facet of him that reminds me that there is real, honest good left in the world.
“You’ll love Kailey, she’s the nice one.
” Pulling a funny face he adds, “Isla’s nice, too.
Just quieter, I guess. She takes after my dad, and even though he’ll never admit it, she’s his princess while Kailey and I are more like The Sire and our mom.
We can talk for days and we’re pretty chill about most things. ”
“It sounds nice having that… siblings you get on with and parents that really want you.”
Jayden pauses, lips puckered like he’s looking for something nice to say back. But there is nothing he can say that changes the fact my parents are subpar to his, and as for Presley…
No words needed for that one.
“Come on,” he says, tugging me in the direction of the deck chairs sitting in front of the tall glass walls overlooking the panoramic view of Redondo Beach with Santa Monica and Los Angeles in the distance. “It’s crazy how small the world seems from up here, and yet so distant.”
“It's breathtaking.”
“There’s one last thing to show you.” Still holding on to my hand, he takes me down the side of the glasshouse, up a set of wood-slatted concrete steps that he navigates ahead of me, acting like a blindfold.
“Unless it’s raining or really cold, this is where I like to come to read.” Jayden stands to the side, gesturing around us while I freeze.
Terror.
That’s the first thing that hits me.
Bile burns up my throat as I will myself to move. To step back. To say something. Anything while he watches me, waiting for my reaction.
“Is something wrong?” He asks, stepping in front of me again. “Finley?”
Gripping his book tightly, he leans closer, leveling me with a pleading frown. Like he might lose his mind if I don’t answer him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, focusing on the way his thick fingers blanche around his book while I clutch the ones in my hand firmly. I’m shivering hot and cold, mortified and scared. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“You can’t swim.” He assumes what I can’t tell him because I’m desperately trying not to get pulled into the panic attack brewing in my chest.
Tight. Relentless. Unforgiving. As cruel as the taste of chlorine ghosting my tongue and stinging my eyes. I’m choking on the memory of drowning. Again and again, until his hands grasp my shoulders with a bruising force, pulling me into his chest.
The water fountain. The pool. I’ve answered my question about why Elijah hadn’t brought me up here.
It’s the silver lining of my terror. As always, he was protecting me.
“It’s okay, Lucky. Lots of people don’t know how to swim, but I can teach you if you want… when you want.”
I suck in a deep breath, past the swelling in my throat, with a wheeze.
Jayden smells good. Woodsy and citrusy with a sweetness that warms through me, allowing me to center myself.
I don’t have the strength to tell him that I know how to swim, I’m simply too scared to go anywhere near deep water. I can’t remember the last time I had a bath.
It’s as pathetic as Presley calls me.
“We don’t have to stay up here,” Jayden tells me when I back into the glass balustrade. With another appraising glance, he asks, “Do you want to go back down there? To the deck chairs?”
Desperately.
I’d love nothing more than to put as much distance as I can between me and the infinity pool behind him. But this is his spot. Where he comes to get away from the world, and after he’s been so kind to me, it’s not fair for me to take him away.
“Umm… no, that’s okay. I can sit over there.” I nod to the large sun bed draped with a striped canopy by the shallow end of the pool. “Seems like a great spot to read.”
“It is.” Jayden heads toward the plush double chaise, picking up a couple of towels as well as two water bottles and soda cans from a bamboo cabana on the way.
How’s it possible for a person to be so at ease with themselves? There hasn’t been a day in my life where I haven’t watched my every action. Considered every move I make and word I speak carefully.
“Are you going to stand there the rest of the afternoon?” He asks, throwing his book along with the drinks and towels on the sun bed before he takes off his shirt and hangs it on one of the posts.
Oh Jesus.
His body is as insane as Elijah’s. Slabs of muscle beneath taut skin. They work out like machines, so it shouldn’t surprise me. Yet every time I see them like this—rounded shoulders, broad chest tapering down to a chiseled stomach and strong, defined hips—I’m still blown away.
“Finley?”