Chapter 9 #2
“You really do always have to be an asshole, don’t you?” I ask, furious at the breathless way my voice comes out.
“What do you want, Jamie?” I dip my face down against the side of Kyrie’s head and hide the ridiculous reaction I’m having to this man. It makes no sense. I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. So how in the world can I be attracted to him?
“CPS was here today.” It’s not a question.
“I’m aware. I was here,” I snap awkwardly and turn my back to him as I place Kyrie in her crib before it dawns on me. I’ve been here for two months, two weeks, and three days. Shit. “If I’ve worn out my welcome, I can look for another place. Lexie told me about an apartment—”
“Ashton—” he grunts, but I refuse to turn around.
I do not cry. I haven’t in years. I refuse to start now. Even if I want to.
I got comfortable.
Too comfortable.
“No. I should have seen this coming. I’m sor—”
“Christ woman.” He closes the small distance between us and rests his hands on my shoulders, sending goosebumps dancing down my spine. “Are you ever not on the defensive? Do you really think that’s what I want?”
I will not cry today . . . It’s like a mantra at this point for how often I repeat it.
One I tell myself on a near daily basis.
So far, so good.
“I don’t know what you want,” I admit. “Hell, I don’t even know what I want anymore.
” I stare at Kyrie lying in the crib, her angelic face turned to the side.
Tiny hands and feet tucked underneath her small body and her pink and white ruffled bum high in the air.
This baby I didn’t even know existed two months, two weeks, and four days ago.
This one who changed my world with a single heartbeat.
This sweet girl I’m scared to death Child Protective Services is going to try to take from me if they ever realize what a mess I really am. “I just know she deserves more than I can give her. More than our mother. More than me. But I’m doing my best, even if that’s never going to be good enough.”
Jamie wraps an arm around my chest and presses his to my back as he anchors me to him, his face pressing to the side of my head as we both just stand there .
. . and breathe. “You’re enough, Ashton.
You always have been. I see it. Finn and Ryker see it.
Kyrie sees it. And one day, you’re going to see it too. ”
“Jamie . . .” I exhale unsteadily.
“None of us want you to leave.”
He leaves those words hanging in the air between us, giving them life, and I wish I knew what he wanted me to say because I have nothing.
No sarcastic comeback.
No nasty remark.
I’ve got nothing.
Nothing other than the unfamiliar feeling in my chest I refuse to acknowledge.
The one that threatens to rock me to my core.
Instead, I do what I do best.
I force myself to stay the course. To push through and push on. I cling to what I know. And what I know is how to survive. “CPS said everything looks good. They gave me the name of a family lawyer who does pro bono work, in case I want to pursue legally adopting Kyrie.”
“Do you want to do that?” he asks, not exactly pushing but also not forcing me to turn around and look at him, so I’ll take it as a small win. “That sounds like a life-changing move.”
A hysterical laugh quietly bubbles up in my throat, and I force myself to break his hold as I turn and face him, if for no other reason than I won’t be looking at my sister when I say this.
“I’m not sure it could be more life-changing than this already is.
I’m not sure of anything beyond knowing in the depths of my soul that my mother hasn’t been able to even care for herself since the night we lost Evan, and I don’t want Kyrie to ever have to spend another night with her again.
” I blink up at Jamie and swear for an instant, pride flashes in the depths of his emerald eyes before I look away.
“You know what? That’s a lie. I am sure that I want custody of that little girl.
I want to make sure she grows up knowing she’s loved. ”
Clinging to my sweater, I wrap it tighter around myself.
“I might not have known she even existed two months ago, but now that I do—now that I get to love her, I want to make sure she knows every single day she’s safe and loved and that she’ll be the center of my world. I want her to have what I never did.”
“Then we’ll make sure that’s what happens,” he tells me as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest in a bear hug that has me freezing in place.
This is twice since he walked in the room he’s held me, and that’s not us. We’re not friends. We don’t touch. Not like this. “Because you know what else guys like me with big houses have?”
I lift my head and wish I could look away from his handsome face and those eyes that feel like they can see so much more than I’m willing to show. “I’m scared to ask, Murphy.”
“Big trust funds and powerful families.”
“I’m not taking—”
“I wasn’t asking, Ashton,” he warns, and the authority in his voice leaves no room for argument. “Besides, it’s not just for you. It’s for her.”
We both look over at Kyrie, still peacefully sleeping while the two of us argue in hushed tones.
“For her and for you and for Evan . . .”
I will not cry today.