10. Mean Brains and Viggo Mortensen
10
Mean Brains and Viggo Mortensen
LEIGHTON
Mom
Awe, poor thing. I’m proud of you, baby. You’re doing great. I’ll record the game for you, and you can watch it when you come home for Christmas.
Leighton
What do I tell her?
Mom
I think you said all the right things. Let her open up on her terms, and you’ll know what to say.
Leighton
Thanks Mama.
Mom
Text me when you’re safe at Ollie’s please.
Leighton
You got it.
One exhaustingly long, precariously quiet drive home, an extensive text exchange with my mom, and a rather elaborate fort later, I found myself lying on a floor bed made entirely of pillows and Mattie’s favorite blankets, looking up at Viggo Mortensen and his luscious hair and general ass-kickery. I passed the popcorn to my feisty little companion and found her staring up at the enormous television with a little smirk on her face.
“What?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Did you know he broke his toes kicking a helmet?”
“What?” I nearly choked—thank God I didn’t have a mouthful of popcorn, or I would’ve died.
“Yep,” she said matter-of-factly. “In The Two Towers , Aragorn’s scream after kicking the orc helmet wasn’t acting. He broke his toes, and Peter Jackson kept the take because it felt authentic.”
I blinked, smirking down at her before glancing back up at the man in question. “So… he method acted his way right into a hospital?”
“ That’s commitment,” she said sagely, hearts basically pulsing in her eyes as she dreamily stared at the screen. Same, girlfriend. Same.
“Leighton?” I popped my head out of the tent to see a looming Jax Reynolds leaning in the archway to the foyer. The man was easily six-three, broad-shouldered, and had that whole blond bad boy vibe going. One of Greyson’s Navy buddies, and seemingly allergic to tying his motorcycle boots. He wore a leather jacket, hair still damp from walking the perimeter in the rain—paranoid, as always. Jax had been behind the wheel when those psychos opened fire. He’d needed surgery and a terrifying number of transfusions. The fact that he was standing there, casually checking in, was a freaking miracle.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks, Jax.”
“Of course. The guys are briefed. Everything looks good on my end. Need anything before I head back to the stadium?”
“I think we’re good.” I shook my head and glanced at Tillie… who was now pink in the cheeks and definitely struggling to hold still.
I elbowed her. “Hey. What was that? You got all squirrelly.”
“Uhhhhhg,” she groaned dramatically, burying her face in her hands.
“What?” I smirked.
“I just like them when they’re wet and angry.”
“What!?” I barked, bursting out laughing.
“Captain Reynolds. His shaggy hair, all wet like that. It makes me… mmmmm .”
“Did you just purr?”
“Humans don’t purr,” she condescended.
“Sounded like a purr.”
“I didn’t purr. I’m not a cat. I just… like looking at him.”
“Well… sure, but he’s got nothing on Viggo.”
“No man does,” she declared, like it was gospel.
Oh, Ollie was so fucking hosed with this one. I couldn’t be sure, but I was pretty certain I didn’t even notice boys until I was fifteen—and even then, I definitely didn’t have opinions about their hair or moisture levels.
“Did you know Sean Bean was afraid of helicopters?” she asked suddenly, switching topics with the whiplash speed of a ten-year-old. I shook my head. She nodded, dead serious. “Yeah. He hiked up the mountains in full costume while everyone else flew.”
“What?”
“Yep.”
“Wait a damn second. Like… in his armor? All that chainmail?”
I stared at her profile to check if she was messing with me, which is how I caught the eye roll as she flicked her gaze toward me. “He had to leave two hours earlier than everyone else.”
I snorted, glancing back at the screen to process that little nugget. “That is absolutely the most Boromir shit I’ve ever heard.”
“I know, right?”
After learning that Orlando Bloom broke a rib falling off a horse and nearly drowned in his armor, I finally went for the elephant in the room. “You feeling better, sweetie?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Good. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“Yeah. Daddy takes me to Dr. Christner, though.”
“I know,” I said, shrugging, but turning back to the film when she squirmed uncomfortably. “But sometimes it’s nice to talk to someone just because they love us.”
“You love me.”
“Very much, yes.”
“Hmm.” She sat in contemplative silence for a beat. “Sometimes finding the right words is hard for me.”
“That, I understand. Believe me.”
“Yeah. Like tonight. That wasn’t fun.”
“No,” I agreed. “It didn’t seem very fun.”
“My brain acted like I wasn’t safe. Even though we were.”
“Sometimes, when traumatic things happen, our brains can be mean, and hang onto it—even after it’s over. They don’t always know how to let go.” Talking to Tillie was like balancing on a tightrope. One minute, she was thirty. The next, she was a snuggly little sweet potato. I never knew which version I’d get.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “You and Daddy made sure nobody could see me cry. I liked that.”
“We’ve got your back, sweet pea.”
“Sometimes, I wish you were my mom instead of Carly.”
If my heart could’ve grown wings, it would’ve launched itself off a cliff right then. As it was, it lodged squarely in my throat.
Oh, sweet baby.
“We make pretty good friends though, right?”
“Right.” She nodded and grabbed a handful of popcorn, stuffing it in her mouth like that settled the matter.
“Sooo… I have an idea for tomorrow and I want to run it by you.”
“Okay,” she mumbled around her snack.
“Have you ever had a worry jar?”
“A wha’?” she asked, then rushed to swallow.
“A worry jar. You decorate it to match your room, and when you’re feeling something big—like tonight—you write it down, put it in the jar, and seal the lid.”
“What does that do?” she asked, skeptical.
“I think writing our fears out helps us process them. And then sealing them in the jar is like… giving them to God. They’re not your problem anymore.”
“I’m not certain I believe in God.”
“Well. The Universe, then.”
“I give my fear to the universe?” she asked flatly.
“Yep,” I said with a sage nod. “You can’t worry about it anymore—it’s the universe’s problem now.”
“Hmm…”
“Wanna try it? It might help, you never know.”
She paused the movie and raised a skeptical brow. “ You want me to try it?”
Grinning at her emphasis, I nodded. When she harrumphed, I had to bite my cheek.
“Fine.”
“You’re appeasing me,” I accused.
“Yes,” she agreed, then looked at me like I was a circus act when I burst out laughing.
“It just doesn’t seem scientifically?—”
I ruffled her hair and gave her a light shove, laughing harder when she broke into giggles. “Oh, cut it out and hit play so we can get to the door scene.”
Still giggling, she breathed, “Legendary.”
“Agreed.”
“But that’s in the next movie.”
“Damn.”
* * *
I woke up, dazed and confused, still in the blanket fort, my hand automatically drifting to Ollie’s cheek, where he was illuminated by the twinkle lights and looking at me like I’d hung the freaking moon.
“Hey, Trouble.”
Blinking, I pulled away from his neatly stubbled face as I realized what I was doing. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, that gentle smile growing. “Not gonna lie, I’m just glad that’s your reaction to waking up to my ugly mug.”
“ Ugly mug ,” I scoffed, sitting up and blinking as the world tilted around me, stars glittering in my vision. Whoops. Must’ve moved faster than I realized. I blinked again to clear them, catching the way Ollie canted his head.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, yawning. “Just sleepy. Where’s Tillie?”
“I tucked her into her bed. Debated letting you sleep, but figured you’d lose circulation in your arm if I left you there.”
“Mmm,” I hummed, slowly stretching my arms and neck. He was right, of course—I’d had it propped under my head like a pillow, and the joint was annoyingly tight.
“You two were pretty cute, all cuddled up in there. Didn’t wanna disturb either of you, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I left you on the floor.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “I don’t mind. She did great, by the way. We’re going to decorate a worry jar after school tomorrow—today?”
“Today,” he confirmed with a grimace.
“Thank you, Leigh. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight.”
“Figured it out, like you always do.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think so. She would’ve had to sit through three hours of that chaos feeling that low, and… yikes.”
“You would’ve figured it out.”
“Maybe.”
“You know,” I said with a pointed look as he extended a hand to help me up, “she’s gonna be trouble.”
“What?” he asked, pulling me to my feet. I accepted the steadying grip and absolutely did not get butterflies at the simple contact.
“She’s already got a thing for Viggo.”
“Oh.” He chuckled, smirk growing as he shook his head. “And Orlando, the boy wonder. I knew I was screwed when she swooned over Zac Efron at age eight. Tried to marry a boy in kindergarten.”
That made me laugh, a hand covering my mouth as I yawned. “ And Captain Reynolds.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief, eyes going wide.
“Oh yes. He walked the perimeter in the rain tonight, came back drenched—pretty sure they’ll have to slice that leather jacket off him—and she was beside herself.”
“Awe, man. I liked him, too.”
“Yep. Said she likes when ‘they’re wet and angry.’”
He threw his head back, one hand flying to cover his heart like I’d mortally wounded him. “Dammit. I thought I had years before this shit.”
“Maybe she’ll lose interest between now and high school.” I straightened my skirt and snatched my discarded bow off the coffee table as Ollie wandered toward the foyer.
“God, a man can only hope,” he muttered. “How do we get her into the cootie phase? I thought I got one of those.”
“Nope. Straight to noticing long hair, sharp jaws, and strong hands.”
“God has a cruel sense of humor.”
“Apparently.”
“And you?”
“What about me?” I laughed as we rounded the corner, and he handed me a combat boot to yank on. “I’m a little past the cooties, Ollie.”
He snickered. “Did you like Jax bulging out of his jacket too?”
“The man certainly knows how to occupy a space,” I said earnestly, accepting my second shoe. “A little hairy, a little too macho for my taste. Besides, he’s blond.”
“Prefer gingers?”
I smirked at the bait, shaking my head. “Always been a brunette girl, myself.”
Ollie hummed thoughtfully. He tried to keep his face impassive, but I could swear his shoulders sagged in relief. My cue to leave. This balance beam between ‘professionally platonic’ and ‘whatever-we-almost-were’ was precarious at best.
“Have you considered self-defense for Tillie?” I asked, pivoting in the most awkward segue since the girl in question. “It might empower her—give her back some sense of control.”
But when I straightened, the world tilted, stars swirling, and—sweet baby Jesus—maybe Pax was right and I should call my doctor back home. Feeling a little nauseous, I set my hand on the front door and sucked down a slow breath.
“Leigh?” Ollie stepped into my space, brows pinched. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just… lightheaded, apparently.”
“Still?”
“What do you mean?” I breathed, my hand reflexively latching onto his forearm—and cursing myself when I met bare skin where his sleeves were rolled. His palms found my waist, fingers tightening as he stooped to study me, concern etched deep between his brows.
“Pax said that’s why you didn’t run last week.”
“Dirty, rotten fink,” I growled, wrinkling my nose.
He snorted. “In his defense, he’d had a scotch at dinner.”
“One mid-season drink and he crumples like a house of cards. Weak .”
Ollie chuckled, shaking his head. “So?”
“Yeah. I think the stress of the last few months just exacerbated things. A few weeks of good sleep, good food—” I smiled, letting my eyes wander over him, “—and even better company should do it.”
He nodded, but didn’t let go, his jaw ticking like that answer wasn’t good enough. “You’re welcome to crash in the guest room tonight. I don’t want you driving home if you’re not up to it.”
That… actually didn’t sound half bad. But that didn’t mean I could justify doing something stupid. “I don’t really wanna sleep in this,” I motioned to my stiff Bomber’s cheer shirt and cute-ass mini skirt. “It’s trying to strangle the girls.”
He huffed a laugh, his fingers flexing at my waist. I should step back. Should . But I didn’t. Couldn’t remember how.
“I’ve got some pajamas that might fit, and I can order clothes in for tomorrow.”
“You’re too nice, Ollie. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Never, not once,” he quipped, lifting a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. My God, the man could suck the oxygen out of a room. I’d tried hard not to get this close for a reason—he made me stupid. Staying here would be colossally dumb. Staying here in a big-ass shirt that smelled like heaven and the promise of orgasms? Colossally bad idea.
“Thank you for the offer, but Kaia’s expecting me. We’re doing breakfast before I head this way.”
Okay, so we ate together every morning in a half-lucid, bean-juice-dependent stupor, but it was the only excuse I could come up with while his Adam’s apple bobbed like it, too, was hot. I wanted to press my lips to his throat. Jesus.
“I should hit the road.”
Reluctantly, he nodded. But his eyes dropped to my mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his own. He leaned in, and my chin lifted of its own accord, logic frantically trying—and failing—to slam the brakes. His breath brushed my face and heat roared to life in my veins.
A mistake.
This would be a mistake.
This would mess everything up.
This was why I was leaving .
Danger, Leighton Rhodes . Danger.
And yet—even as every logical neuron fired neon warning signs—his eyes, his mouth, the magnetic pull of him had falling?—
“Daddy??” Beau’s panicked voice had nightmare written all over it. We both froze as the thud of tiny feet hit the floor.
“ Daddy! ”
Saved by the toddler.
I slapped on a smile and peeled away from Ollie’s gravity. Smirking, heart hammering, I whispered, “Goodnight, Ollie.”
He gave me a tight smile. But the war in his body was gone. What stared back was disappointment. Pure, quiet, devastating disappointment.
“Night, Trouble.”
* * *
The Girls:
Elora
You feeling any better, Punky?
Leighton
Maybe last weekend put me in a sleep deficit or something because I am *wiped*.
Alice
I mean, Emmaline picked up some bug from Eli’s kids. Maybe you’re fighting something off?
Noel
My nieces and nephews are in school, and it’s basically one oversized Petri dish. I swear my sister is always sick.
Brexley
Facts.
Leighton
Nothing sunshine won’t help.
Elora
Good, yes, soak in that vitamin D.
Kaia
Does Tillie have ballet tonight?
Leighton
Yep. She’s dancing two roles in this years’ Nutcracker, so we’re at rehearsal daily.
Elora
Awe, I remember those days. You two were the cutest damn angels there ever were.
Kaia
Until that snot tugged on my wig.
Leighton
That bitch deserved it.
I have no regrets.
Alice
*deadpan GIF* You punched a ten-year-old.
Kaia
In her defense, we were eight.
Elora
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Noel
LMAO
Alice
How is our little snowflake/angel?
Leighton
Doing better today, or at least she was when I dropped her off.
Alice
Good. Poor pumpkin.
Elora
I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. That’s a lot for such a little body.
Leighton
Yeah. I think the glass breaking triggered her. We’ll have to let her come watch a game with an empty suite, or something. Make it just us.
Elora
I think that’s a great idea.
Alice
Agreed. We can’t let those bastards ruin a family tradition. Her daddy worked so hard for that team. She deserves to enjoy it.
Elora
What’d Ollie think of your self-defense suggestion?
Leighton
I’ve compiled the best dojos in town, but he seems hesitant. I was debating asking Jax if he could work with her one-on-one and proposing that instead.
Alice
That’s a great idea!
Elora
It might help her to see that he’s still working at it.
Kaia
Or be triggering because he was there?
Leighton
She has no qualms with Captain Reynolds.
Smirking at the joke none of them would get, I set my phone in my lap. Glancing up between texts to track Beau as he conquered the playground on Wednesday morning was more than a little challenging, but God, the kid was freaking cute. I was convinced he’d grown in the last two weeks. I chuckled as he superhero-leapt off one platform onto another, and dramatically landed like Spiderman, then glanced back to my buzzing cell.
Brexley
Uh. Guys?
Noel
*eyeball emojis*
Brexley
My water just broke.
Leighton
OMG BABY TIME!!!
Brexley
Of course, you’re excited, you’re not about to have an entire human being demolish your vagina.
Leighton
Facts. *crying laughing emojis*
But TOMORROW you’ll be snuggled up with your sweet little peanut.
Brexley
Vaginal tears.
Hemorrhoids.
Abs that feel like jelly, but hurt no matter how careful you are.
Pee that might as well be lighter fluid.
Leighton
“What is… a 24-hour marathon with no prize money and a wailing mandrake at the finish line?” for 500, Alex?
Elora
Thanks, guys. I wasn’t already freaking out.
Brexley
*Grimacing emoji, laughing emojis* You’ll do fine!
They’re totally worth it, but for fuck’s sake, I wish someone warned me the first go around.
Noel
I distinctly remember Juniper warning you.
Repeatedly.
In graphic detail.
And bringing you Tucks pads.
Brexley
And nipple cream and about a million witchy little remedies I now swear by.
Your mother is an angel, ladies. Thanks for letting me borrow her.
Leighton
You say that, but you’ve clearly never pissed her off.
Elora
I would warn against it.
Alice
Under no circumstances can you steal her perfume whilst wearing her high heels.
Leighton
One time. It happened one time.
Kaia
Hold up. How in the hell are you texting right now?
Brexley
Meh. Contractions are basically period cramps atm.
Plus, your brother all but carried me to the passenger seat of the car, and now I’m watching him sprint into the house and back like he’s on fire.
It’s highly entertaining.
Quinn and I are just watching him go back and forth and giggling our asses off.
Elora
Awe, I’m glad we raised that one right.
Brexley
He really is the best.
I had to give it to my brothers. Of the two who’d found their people, they both loved them so loudly that nobody could miss it.
I loved that for Brex and Noel.
Wasn’t at all jealous.
Okay—maybe a little.
Mostly because Ollie had me on high alert, and I must’ve finally been ovulating because I needed an orgasm or a strong drink so badly I could cry. Maybe both? Hell, a stiff breeze might get the job done at this point.
Ollie—the cocky bastard—had, in fact, rendered Obi Wand entirely unappealing.
It wasn’t the same. Which, I mean, duh . But I hadn’t realized how delectable a man’s bodyweight was. What whispered words could do to me.
There was something sacred about keeping our one night between us—just our little secret—but somehow not telling the girls he almost kissed me last night was harder. Maybe because it would mean something entirely different. But how the hell was I supposed to explain that my boss probably almost kissed me, and that it was somehow worse because I’d already had him in my bed?
Scanning the park, I quickly spotted Beau in his neon green t-shirt on the far side.
Note to self: always dress the kid like a traffic cone. So smart. So helpful. I deserved a pat on the back for that this morning. He moved too fast for neutrals—hell, if I could attach an LED headlamp, I would.
I raised my hand to my mouth and let out a sharp whistle with my thumb and middle finger. His head popped up immediately, eyes locking on mine.
Little devil just grinned and sprinted up a tube slide, like I couldn’t round him up if he didn’t come when called.
Adorable little shithead.
Laughing, I jogged to the other side of the playground, climbed a ladder, and crouched to waddle-slide down a ramp, popping out just in time to catch him bursting from an adjoining tunnel.
Roaring like a monster, I scooped him up and tickled his tubby little belly. He shrieked and kicked, cackling like a maniac.
I would never understand how Carly just walked away from these babies.
In the years since, it was like she went out of her way to make their lives worse—and the more time I spent soaking up these giggles, the more I hated her for it.
“Okay, okay! ” he screeched in surrender…
I threw my head back and let out a full belly villain laugh. “Muwa-ha-ha-ha!!”
“ You win, you win! ”
“Bet your bottom I win, Skippy. You think you’re so sneaky.”
“Am sneaky,” he argued, giggling as I flipped him right side up and trapped him on my hip.
Poking his belly, I grinned. “Not sneaky enough, Bucko!”
“You win, you win, you win,” he whined, still squirming.
I hugged him tight as we made our way to the parking lot. “You have fun?”
“So much! Dat one red kid, he was suuuper funny and had awesome Spiderman sooz. An’ he like to play hide and seek. But he’s not as good as you or Mattie.”
“No?”
“No. But maybe jus’ cause he’s red.”
I laughed, ruffling his hair. “You mean his hoodie was red?”
“Yeah.”
“Not the best color to disappear in.”
“No. He needs cammo.”
“Cammo, huh?”
“Yeah. Makes us extra sneaky.”
“Excellent, excellent. What’d you guys play after hide and seek?”
“Mmmm, tag. But he didn’t like the funny guy.”
“Funny guy?” I asked, quirking a brow as I unlocked my Jeep and plopped him into his seat.
“Yeah. Real funny. His face was all fuzzy.”
A chill ghosted down my spine. Straightening, I scanned the parking lot. Empty. Still. Too quiet.
“Like… bearded? Like Uncle Maverick?”
“Fuzzier,” he said matter-of-factly, still totally oblivious to the way my stomach just bottomed out.
What grown-ass man had been talking to Beau?
And how the hell hadn’t I seen him? I hadn’t taken my eyes off him for more than thirty seconds at a time.
Keeping my tone even, I asked, “What didn’t the red kid like about him?”
“He jus’ kept talkin’ to us.”
“Talking to you?”
“Yeah.”
“What about?” I asked, tightening his seatbelt.
“Askin’ about my sister. Then he said somethin’ about crazy uncles, and I tol’ him my Unca Grey is a hero. He had lots of questions ’bout that. Red kid got bored, I think.”
“What kind of questions, sweet potato?” I asked as I climbed into the driver’s seat, quickly locking the doors.
“I dunno.”
“What was he wearing?”
“White shirt. Like what Daddy wears to work.”
“Was he scary?”
“Not really. Just a lil’ funny.”
Funny. Then why was my stomach in knots?