14. Presley
I push the button on the handle, and the umbrella opens above me.
Making a run for it, I dash across the parking lot to my car. Only, the spot is empty when I get there.
My eyebrows pinch together. That’s weird. I could’ve sworn that I parked on the end of the last row when I arrived at school this morning.
My head whips around, searching for my car. I dig into my coat pocket for my keys, but my fingers hit nothing but the inside of my pocket.
What the fuck?
A black town car pulls up in front of me, and an older man with salt-and-pepper hair jogs around the front bumper holding up a large black umbrella. “Ms. King, I’m here to escort you to the spa.”
My chin jerks back. “Uh, what?”
“I can assure you that your car has been safely delivered to your home. I’ve been instructed to pick you up and take you to get a massage at four o’clock.”
“Instructed by who?”
The man smiles. “Mr. McKinley.”
My chest tightens. “He planned this?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He swings open the back door, and gestures for me to get inside. “Come in and get out of the rain.”
“Sorry, please just give me a moment.” I slip my phone out of my purse and click on Stephen’s name before holding it up to my ear.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he answers.
“Don’t pretty girl me. There’s a strange man standing in front of me telling me to get in his car. As a woman, you can understand my hesitation. What is going on? Where’s my car? And how did you get my car keys?”
He chuckles. “That’s Carl; he’s my driver. He’s going to take you to get a massage.”
“But I have to pick up Alyssa from school. Her field hockey practice got cancelled because of the rain and?—”
“We’ve already taken care of that. I’ve got her with me right now. Say hi to your aunt, ‘Lyss.”
Alyssa’s cheery voice blares through the phone. “Hi, Aunt Presley!”
My eyebrows shoot up. “First grand theft auto, and now kidnapping. What’s next on the agenda?”
Stephen laughs again, like this is totally normal behavior. “Enjoy your massage, pretty girl. We’ll see you at home.”
The call ends, and I’m left blinking down at the screen in disbelief.
Carl clears his throat. “Ms. King, come on inside. I have the heat on. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
I snap the umbrella closed, and slide into the back seat of the car.
The door shuts behind me, and Carl scurries around to the driver’s side. He glances at me in the rearview mirror as he climbs inside. “How was your day, Ms. King?”
My head falls back against the seat as I laugh. “Like any other day, up until now.”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’ve heard good things about this spa. You’ll have a very enjoyable afternoon.”
I shake my head as I stare out at the rain. “And how many women have you driven around for Mr. McKinley, Carl?”
“I assume you mean the ones not blood related?”
I smirk. “Exactly those ones.”
“None, Ms. King.” He pauses, his eyes flicking to mine in the mirror before returning to the road. “And if I may add, I haven’t seen him this excited in a long time.”
Worry seeps into my gut. “I was afraid you’d say that, Carl.”
Stephen McKinley doesn’t do anything in half measures. He’s all in, balls to the wall, giving two-hundred percent of himself. He moves with the force of a barreling train.
But I can’t give him what he’s hoping for. I can’t be a pseudo-mom and be in a poly relationship. How would that even work?
Visions of the three of us living in my sister’s house with Avery and Alyssa flash through my mind. Chance and Avery painting in the dining room while Stephen runs around the backyard with Alyssa; me moving around them in the kitchen as Stephen chops vegetables and Chance stirs a pot of sauce; the three of us snuggling under the covers as we fall asleep at night.
My skin warms at the memory of how it felt to be loved by the two of them. The way they treated me, the way they cared for me.
Longing grips my heart in a vice. I’ve missed them. I miss the way they made me feel, and I miss the person I was with them. And now that they’re back, I can’t help but want it all back again.
Maybe it’d work behind closed doors—and that’s a big maybe with two children—but it definitely wouldn’t work on the outside. I can already hear the things other parents would say about us. The way they’d judge us, and keep their children away from mine. And that can’t happen. My responsibility is to those kids, and I won’t let anything stop them from having the best lives.
I have to shut this down. Stephen and Chance need to know that we can’t be what we once were.
No matter how deeply I crave it.
The aroma of sauteed garlic and onions fill the house as soon as I step inside.
But it’s the sound of people that take me by surprise.
I creep through the hallway and spot Stephen, alone with several large men, sitting on my couch, shouting over a video game as Alyssa howls with laughter, playing right in the middle of them. Judging by their size, I assume they’re Stephen’s teammates who attended the assembly at Avery’s school today.
Inching further into the house, I peer into the kitchen. Avery stands beside Chance at the stove, listening intently to whatever Chance is explaining to him. Something about flavors and temperatures.
In the dining room, four women sit around the set table, sipping glasses of wine.
Before I can sneak back into the hallway and dart up the stairs to change and make myself look presentable, the redhead makes eye-contact with me.
“Oh, hey.” She stands and rounds the corner of the table with her wine glass. “You must be Presley... and wondering what we’re all doing in your house.”
I laugh. “Correct on both accounts.”
She wraps an arm around me and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m Celeste, one of Jason’s wives. This is our wife, Kourtney,” she gestures to a pretty brunette who waves from her seat at the table. “This is Cassidy, Trenton’s wife.” A curvy brunette with a warm smile raises her hand. “And this is Aarya, Alexander’s wife.” Another dark-haired beauty shoots me a wink.
I give everyone a big wave. “Hi, ladies. Uh, I’m assuming your husbands are all Goldfinches?”
Celeste slaps her forehead. “Duh, you’ve never met them before. Yes, they’re the giant dudes in your living room playing video games like five-year-olds.”
These women are stunning, as different as they all look. My brain tries to keep track of who Celeste said they were each married to. “I’m sorry, did you say you and Kourtney are both married to Jason?”
Celeste beams. “We’re a threesome. We’ve been best friends since high school. It’s a whole thing. I’ll tell you the story sometime.”
I arch a brow, completely intrigued by this news. A real-life poly relationship. It’s like the universe heard my thoughts earlier, and is showing me that it’s possible.
“So, what’s going on between you and Mac?” Celeste asks. “I’m going to need all the details because up until today, I had no idea you existed.”
Kourtney laughs as she stands and places her hand on Celeste’s forearm. “Why don’t you let the poor woman get settled before you start interrogating her. She hasn’t even put her things down yet.”
I’m literally standing in the middle of the room holding a dripping wet umbrella and two large work bags.
Alyssa pops into the dining room. “Aunt Presley, you’re home! Come into the living room. You have to meet the team. We’re playing NHL 24 and I totally kicked their asses—” She freezes and clamps her hand over her mouth. “Their butts. I totally kicked their butts.”
Damn Stephen and his potty mouth.
Stephen joins us, and scoops my things into his hands, leaning in to press a kiss on my cheek. “Hey, pretty girl. How was your massage? Are you feeling relaxed now?”
I let out a sardonic laugh. “I was, up until I walked into a house party that I didn’t know about.”
He grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I should’ve told you. But the kids invited the guys over for dinner, so I figured it would be a great way for you to meet the WAGs too.”
Avery comes into the room carrying a large pot filled with red sauce. “Hey, Aunt Pres. Chance showed me how to make marinara sauce. It’s just about ready.”
My head swirls with everything going on. I suck in a deep breath. “Great. Let me go get changed and I’ll be right down.”
I dart out of the room and bolt up the stairs to my bedroom. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I close my eyes and run my fingers through my hair.
It’s not that I mind having everyone over. They all took the time out of their busy schedules to help Avery today, and I’d love to be able to personally thank them. But for the last four years, I’ve been on my own raising these kids. I haven’t had a break, or time to do anything for myself. Today was the first time I didn’t have to pick them up from school, or worry about dinner—and to top it off, I got a fucking massage at a spa.
Where’s my car, by the way?
There’s a soft knock on the door before it cracks open, and Chance’s dark eyes meet mine. “You okay?”
I blow out a long breath through my lips. “I’m good. Just taking a second to digest everything.”
He closes the door behind him and lowers himself to the mattress beside me. “I’m sorry for ambushing you like this. You know how hard it is to stop Stephen when he gets an idea in his head.”
I smile. “I sure do.”
Chance reaches out and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Did you enjoy your massage at least?”
“I did.” My eyes bounce between his. “That was your idea, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t want you to have to worry about anyone for once. I wanted you to have a moment for yourself.” His fingers linger on my ear, tracing it and then skimming down along my jawline. “I want to take care of you in all the ways I wasn’t able to for the last four years.”
I close my eyes and lean into his light touch, and his palm cradles my face. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do any of this.”
“I know I don’t have to.” His thumb skims along my bottom lip. “I want to. I want to be here for you. I want you to lean on me.”
Chance has always wanted to be wanted. He needs to feel needed. He’s the caretaker, the fixer. He spent his childhood trying to pick up the pieces of his father’s mess and protect his mother. Her death weighs heavily on him, and I think a part of him will forever feel like he couldn’t do enough to save her, so he tries to make up for it in everyone he meets. I could kill his father with my bare hands for the way he fucked with this man’s head. How could someone this amazing never feel good enough?
I want to show him that he is.
Lifting my eyes to his, mine fill with tears. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Here, meaning back in my life.
He dips down and rests his forehead against mine. “I’m not going anywhere, rebel.”
My heart constricts at the sound of the old nickname, and I can’t help but let out a sardonic laugh. “I’m not a rebel anymore. Haven’t been for quite some time.”
“It’s still a part of you. You just haven’t let her out in a while.”
He must be right, because the only thing I can think about right now is feeling his lips on mine. That would be reckless and foolish. I need to keep the lines clear between us, keep the boundaries set.
We can be friends, and nothing more.
But when Chance pulls back to gaze into my eyes, my heart beats a furious rhythm. My body betrays me, desperately seeking a physical release to ease this yearning.
Chance’s hand slides down to my throat, his fingers tightening around my neck just like he used to. “Do you miss me, rebel? Do you think about all the things we used to do together? All the ways I made you feel good?”
Wetness pools between my legs, and my nipples harden.
He leans in and swipes his tongue across my lips, and a low moan escapes me.
“Have you been with anyone else since you left us?” he asks. “Has anyone else touched this beautiful body?”
I wish I could give him another answer, one that wouldn’t make me look so pathetic, but I can’t lie to him. I shake my head. “No,” I whisper.
He groans like that pleases him. “This body must be desperate for affection.”
I can’t think straight with his grip on my throat, and his dark eyes boring into my soul.
“Will you let me relieve some of this tension?” His free hand slides underneath my shirt, and his fingers dance along my stomach. Goosebumps fly over my skin, and I clench my thighs together. “I can take care of this ache for you.”
Oh, I know he can. Every nerve ending in my body lights up at the memory of just how good this man can take care of my body.
But the sounds of the kids downstairs pull me from my lust-filled haze. I shake my head and scoot away from Chance, putting space between us so I don’t pounce on him like a dog in heat.
“I...I can’t.” My eyes drop to my lap in shame. “I’m sorry.”
Chance reaches out and tips my chin, bringing my eyes back to his. “Don’t you dare apologize for it. If you’re not ready, then I can respect that. You set the pace, and I follow.”
My bottom lip trembles. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, Chance. We can’t just go back to the way things were between the three of us.”
“Why not?” Stephen’s voice startles us both as he stands in the doorway. “Why can’t we try again?”
I sweep my arm out, gesturing to the floor. “Those kids downstairs? They rely on me. It’s up to me to keep them safe. Avery’s having enough of a hard time as it is. I can’t draw more attention to our family.”
Stephen crosses his arms over his chest. “We can take it slow, and see where it leads. One day at a time.”
I point between the two of them. “You two can barely stand to be around each other. How do you expect this to work, hmm?”
Chance arches a brow. “Are you saying you’d consider it if Stephen and I were on better terms?”
I rub my palms against my thighs. “I’m just saying, you can’t snap your fingers and make everything perfect for us. This isn’t a fun college fling. This is the real world, and I have my family to think about. I’m not the rebel who used to get high and fuck two guys at the same time without a care in the world.”
“Maybe not, but this version isn’t you either,” Stephen says, walking toward me. “You’re not happy. I can see it in your eyes. You’re tired, and stressed, and you’ve been exhausting yourself trying to do everything on your own. You’re stifling yourself, and you think it’s what you need to do for the kids, but you’re not setting a good example for them.”
I scoff. “Excuse me? I’m doing the best I can, and I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job given the situation.”
Chance stands up, facing Stephen. “Hey, I don’t think this is helping right now.”
“Fuck you too, man.” Stephen’s face reddens as he speaks. “The both of you might be okay with hiding who you truly are, and denying yourselves of the things you want, but you’re only hurting yourselves in the end. And those kids? They need some fun in their lives. They need you to show them it’s okay to let loose a little, and enjoy life. Do you want them to grow up and look back on their childhood and remember how stressed you were trying to juggle everything and hold it all together?”
Tears stream down my face. “No, I?—”
“I had to listen to Alyssa tell me how lonely she thinks you are, and how Avery wishes he could help out more because he knows how stressed you always are.”
My mouth flaps open. “What?”
Stephen nods. “They see you, Pres, no matter how hard you try to hide it. They see how much pressure you’re putting on yourself.”
I flick my eyes to Chance, and he nods in confirmation before dropping his gaze.
Fuck.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I blurt out. “I don’t know the first thing about raising kids, and all I want is to do right by my sister. But I’m not her, and I keep falling short.”
Chance steps forward and wipes my tears with his thumbs. “Maybe that’s your problem. Maybe you need to stop trying to make up for her being gone, and just be yourself. Those kids love you as their aunt. Stop trying to be a perfect mom, and just be you. Love them; be there for them; and have a little fun with them every now and then. That’s what kids need.”
“Your sister left them with you for a reason,” Stephen says, lowering his voice as he inches closer. “She knew you better than anyone else, and she knew they’d be in the best hands with you—the exact person you were four years ago.”
A sob escapes me. “I don’t know how to be that person in this new life.”
“We can help.” Stephen smooths his palm down my back. “Maybe that’s why life threw us back together. Maybe we can be what the other needs.”
Chance looks just as scared as I feel. Being together would mean that he has to admit to the world that he’s bisexual. And that wasn’t something he was ready for four years ago. I don’t know where he stands now, or where any of this will lead.
But I lift my hand to his cheek, reassuring him as much as myself. “One day at a time, right?”
His chest expands with his deep inhale. “One day at a time.”