Chapter 4
HARLOW
“Imiss your face.”
“I miss yours, too.” I frown at the image of my sister on the computer screen. “How’s med school treating you?”
My sister is starting her first year of medical school over an hour away at Stanford.
She was certain she wouldn’t get in, but I had no doubt in her capabilities.
Nearly six years post kidney transplant she’s still glowing and kicking ass at everything.
After her experience with her disease, my sister decided she wanted to be a transplant surgeon.
Still, one day she’ll need another transplant, maybe even more than one, and I hope I’ll be a match.
When she needed one before I was too young to test, but I would in a heartbeat.
Willa is more than my sister. She’s someone I look up to and admire.
She’s a force to be reckoned with, fighting against every bad thing that’s ever been tossed her way.
“Lots of studying already, but I’m excited.”
“Where’s Jasper?”
“Over here!” I hear him yell and Willa swivels her laptop so I can see her boyfriend cooking something in the kitchen. He waves with a wooden spoon in his hand. “How’s it going, Low?”
“It’s going.” I rest my head on my hand as my sister reappears in the frame. “Where’s Mo?”
I shake my head. “My poor daughter and all her nicknames. It’s a miracle she knows who she is.” I blow out a breath and fiddle with the earrings circling my ears. “She’s spending the weekend at Spencer’s.”
“Whoa.” Willa rears back a bit. “Is that animosity I sense in your tone?”
I guess I didn’t tamp down on my annoyance like I meant to.
“Ugh.” I tug at the hair close to my scalp. “I’m just in a mood.” I puff out my lips. “It’s time for my period,” I rationalize.
“Harlow,” she prompts. “Spit it out.”
“It’s just … he gets three weekends out of the month with her and gets to take her to do fun things, while I’m stuck being the mean parent with the day-to-day things.”
Willa stares through the camera at me, her lips pursed. Willa likes Jameson, but she’s always been firmly team Spencer—as if there are teams—but I guess I can’t fault her since he is a good friend of hers.
“Harlow,” she says in a tone like she’s scolding a child. “You’re the one who won’t give him more time in the week with her. You know Spencer would change up the agreement in a heartbeat.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “And you remember why we settled on this. I don’t want her being exposed to his lifestyle that much. Weekends are bad enough when he’s not off somewhere working.” I don’t miss the grumbling tone to my voice.
She snorts, eyes glittering with amusement. I’m glad one of us is enjoying this conversation. “You make it sound like he’s a drug dealer.”
“Might as well be. Paparazzi are vicious, Willa. Don’t dismiss my feelings on this matter. I want my daughter safe. I don’t want her face splashed in magazines, articles written about her, strange men and women following her. Forgive me for being protective.”
I’ll never understand how family vloggers willingly spill their children’s information all over the internet for everyone to know. As Monroe’s mother I feel like it’s my sole responsibility to protect her and keep her safe. Children don’t belong on social media or on gossip magazines.
“I understand wanting to protect her, but don’t you think Spencer wants the same? I don’t think he’d purposely do something to risk her safety.”
I shake my head. “Spencer isn’t the problem.
It’s what he does, who he’s become now. He’s a celebrity.
I know that’s hard for you to grasp because he’s always going to be ‘Just Spencer’ to you, to me too, but people chase him in the streets.
” I’ll never forget early in his career when we were still together, and he came home to our shitty apartment out of breath with fear practically tattooed on every part of his body.
When I asked him what happened he said a horde of girls chased him when they recognized him from the teen vampire show he was guest starring on.
That incident just cemented the fact that I didn’t want anything to do with Hollywood.
“I don’t want Monroe caught up in that. Running away from people.
Constant security. Screaming fans. No, thank you.
I told Spencer I was scared for the future with all of this, but he didn’t listen. ”
Babe, I’m doing this for us, his voice echoes in my memories.
Willa’s face softens. “He wanted to take care of you and Monroe.”
“I know that, but … why are we even discussing this? Spencer is in my past.”
Willa narrows her eyes on me. “He’ll never be in your past, sis. He’s the father of your child. You’re stuck with him for life.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t know why she thinks I don’t know this. “Valid point, but I’m done talking about Spencer.”
Her eyes glimmer with amusements. “Fair enough. What are your plans tonight?”
“We’re having a movie night. Jameson is picking up a to-go order from Moonbeam.” One of our favorite Thai restaurants, and Willa groans with envy because she loves it too. “And then we’re going to rent that new action movie On Demand.”
Thankfully, it’s a movie Spencer isn’t in. As Hollywood’s number one guy at the moment, he’s been in film after film lately even if he’s not the main star.
“I’m jealous.” Willa pouts. “Of the food and the movie night. I’ll be studying.”
“At least I’m making you a bomb ass dinner,” Jasper hollers in the background.
“Yes, yes.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Well, I better get back to this and let you get ready for your night with Jameson.”
I give her a sad wave. “Thanks. I low you.”
She smiles. “Low you too.”
She waves before her face disappears from the screen.
Low you has been our thing since I was a toddler learning to talk. Apparently, I couldn’t say my V’s so I would say I low you.
Closing my laptop, I carry it to my bedroom and set it on the dresser.
Opening the top drawer, I grab one of my old holey t-shirts that are the softest and best thing to sleep in and my favorite pair of baggy sweatpants.
It’s the epitome of sex appeal. This is what happens when you’ve been in a relationship for a while.
Gone are the days of answering the door in lingerie. This is what you get, bud.
I take a quick shower and change into my comfy clothes. When I get out, there’s a text from Jameson saying he’ll be here in ten minutes that was sent five minutes prior.
I toss my hair up in a messy bun, then run around the apartment to make sure things are straightened. I don’t know why I bother. I already picked up around the place when I got back from dropping off Monroe for her weekend with her dad.
I hate having a dirty, unkempt home, but with a child I’ve learned it’s impossible for things to remain neat and tidy.
And while I like things organized, I also don’t want to be one of those psycho parents who doesn’t let my kid be a kid.
If she wants to play Barbies in the living area, I’m not going to say no.
Sometimes I just wish she’d listen when I ask her to put them away.
The other day I found Barbie and Ken naked in a play bathtub under the dining table.
So many questions about how that happened.
There’s a knock on the door even though Jameson has a key, so I know his hands must be full.
My heart leaps with excitement and I scurry to open it.
The heavenly scent of spices hits my nostrils and I moan, grabbing the paper to-go bags with the moon printed on them.
“I’d like to think that moan is for me, and that you’re horny and so excited to see me, but I’ve accepted at this point that your love for food far exceeds your love for me.”
“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter.
He grins at me, kicking off his sneakers. His hair is damp from a shower and he’s dressed similarly to me in sweatpants and an old t-shirt with a porcupine on it that says Stab Rabbit beneath it.
“You went to your place first?”
“Yeah.” He nods, sliding his arms around my waist. “Wanted to get out of my work clothes.”
Pointing to his shirt, then mine, and say, “You. Me. Same.” Releasing me, he starts pulling out the containers from the restaurant. “Did you order the whole menu?”
“Babe, we’re here unsupervised for the weekend. That means I’m over-eating, indulging in more than one beer, and then for dessert I’m going to eat you out.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva in surprise. “Is that so?”
“Mhm.” He turns, grabbing the fancy dishes from the top cabinet.
“Put those away. We don’t need plates.” I grab a couple of containers and carry them to the coffee table in front of the couch.
“I like the way you think.”
He grabs the rest and utensils, then I go back for the beer. When I finally sit down on the couch, he already has the TV on and is scrolling through movies to find the one we already agreed to rent.
He purchases the rental, and we sift through the to-go boxes as it starts.
“This all smells so good,” I whimper, digging my fork into a dish of Pad Thai and taking a huge bite.
“I’ve been craving Thai food for weeks.” But most of what I make or order is dictated by Monroe.
Not that she’s much of a picky eater but I find most kids to be averse to spicy foods.
“Oh, here’s this.” I pass Jameson his beer.
“Thanks.”
We grow quiet as we get absorbed in the movie and stuff our bellies.
Eventually I end up with my head in his lap, his fingers gently stroking through my hair. The gesture is soothing, but I don’t find myself drifting off to sleep even though I should be tired enough. Instead, I’m wired, my body aching with need for his touch in other places.
The rarity of nights like this, just the two of us, has me sitting up and swinging my legs around him so I’m straddling his lap. I find his cock half hard already, nestled between my legs.
“Jae?” My fingers delve into his hair.
“Hmm?” He pushes his glasses up his nose.
“Forget the fucking movie.”