CHAPTER 100
maverick
The Knights of Chaos were… intimidating…
in a way that only a set of creepy stuffed animals could be.
A dead patchwork bunny, a sparkly Cthulhu, a bloody vampire kitty, and an eyeless Mothman all stared at me alongside the zombie bear.
Excuse me— Sir Bites-a-lot, Sir Stitchkins, Lady Hissington, Lord Chewy, and Clyde.
I had so many questions about Clyde. I also wanted to know where the hell Harley was finding these stuffed animals.
And why? Whatever the reason, it certainly helped her live up to the spooky queen title.
I sat on the floor in Aria’s room as I waited for her to say something. After her conversation with Harley about us dating, her only request was to talk to me. Alone. With the Knights of Chaos.
It sounded cute until I found myself staring down a group of creepy stuffed animals.
As for Aria, she sat behind the line of stuffed animals like they were a shield.
Maybe they were. What did I know? Carson had never been a stuffed animal kid, so it was a new territory.
I just knew she was struggling a little bit with the whole concept.
Harley was stressed about it—which I could understand.
Admittedly, it had worried me too. There wasn’t a Harley and me if Aria wasn’t on board with it.
And so, I sat there with an army of the undead stuffies staring at me because I loved that man more than anything.
How long we sat there was beyond me, but I wasn’t about to move until I got the all-clear from a six-year-old.
It helped that Harley was sitting just outside her door, close by and out of sight, just in case I got in over my head.
“He’s my favorite daddy,” Aria whispered. The serious expression on her face didn’t budge.
“He’s my favorite person, too,” I said.
“I don’t want a new daddy.”
“That’s okay,” I told her. “I don’t want to replace him.”
“Are you going to take my daddy from me?” she asked. She scrutinized me as if trying to see between my words and figure out if I was being honest with her.
“Not in the slightest,” I promised. “Your daddy made it real clear that you’re number one, and that makes me number two.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, spooky queen, not at all.” Chancing the wrath of her creepy council, I scooted closer. “Do you want to know what that makes you?”
“What?”
“That makes you my number one,” I told her softly. “What’s important to your daddy is important to me, and that’s you.”
“Daddy says family comes in all shapes and lines and colors and origami,” Aria said. I held my expression carefully, trying to decipher what the hell she had just said. Kids, man. Sometimes they needed a decoder to understand them. I tried to channel Harley as I worked through it.
“Shapes, sizes, color, and orientation?” I guessed.
“That one!”
“He’s not wrong,” I said. “My family is a crazy mess.”
“Then you should clean it up,” she replied, making me laugh.
“If only it were that easy. My dad left when I was a baby,” I told her honestly. “And my mom was… sick. She was sick, so she wasn’t around much. And my brother was just mean.”
“Daddy says we shouldn’t punch mean people,” Aria said.
“Sometimes we can punch mean people.”
“That’s not a lesson I want her to learn,” Harley called from the hallway. She giggled while I laughed, some of the tension in the room breaking.
“Shush, you. You’re not a part of this conversation,” I replied loudly. Aria rolled backward in a fit of giggles, and I grinned. When her laughter subsided, I continued. “And you know Carson, so I don’t have to tell you about Carson. But did Carson tell you how big his family is?”
She shook her head as she grabbed her zombie bear, hugging it tight as she leaned in closer.
Ah, I had her attention. That had to be a good thing, right?
I didn’t know. I was a little out of my element.
I never had to impress Carson. And yeah, Aria liked me when I was just the fun repair guy letting her play with power tools—maybe if I handed her a drill now, this conversation would go infinitely better.
That was probably cheating.
“Carson’s mom has four older brothers, so Carson has four uncles, three aunts, and five cousins,” I explained. “And his family is my family, which means… hopefully, one day you’ll have four uncles, four aunts, and six cousins if you count Carson and Roxy.”
“That’s a lot of people,” she commented.
“That is a lot of people. And that’s not counting his Mamaw or Papaw either.”
“I don’t have any of those. I have Holly.”
“I hear Holly is pretty cool.”
Cool apparently wasn’t the right word to use when describing Holly. For the next ten minutes, she told me all about Holly, regaling me with so many stories about her adventures with Holly. I didn’t get a word in edgewise other than a little nod or oh, really here and there.
“If you married my daddy, would I have to move?” Aria asked, completely changing the topic. Jesus fuck, the whiplash. It took my mind a moment to catch up.
The marriage question threw me. It wasn’t one I expected to field during this conversation. It had to be a good thing, though. At least she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea because I had every intention of marrying Harley one day. I didn’t know when or how, but that was the plan.
“Nope.” I shook my head. “But when that does happen, we would have to figure out how to make room for Duke and me here. He doesn’t take up much room, but I have all my own stuff that we’d have to figure out. I have a lot of clothes, you know. And power tools.”
“So you’d live here,” she said slowly. “But where would you sleep?”
“We can cross that bridge when we get there,” Harley cut in before I could attempt to reply. Thank fuck.
“What bridge?” she demanded in exasperation. “We’re talking about beds! I don’t want to share my bed with him. He’ll break it!”
“I don’t want your stinky, lumpy bed!” I exclaimed, matching her energy.
“It’s not stinky!” she yelled as she broke down in a fit of giggles.
“Oh, so it’s just lumpy!”
“It’s not lumpy!” Her laughter grew louder. “You’re lumpy!”
“Wow!” I drew out the word, feigning my upset as I tried not to laugh. “I am not lumpy!”
She tried to say something, but it was lost among her wheezing giggles. From the hall, I could hear Harley chuckling.
“This is going good, right?” I asked softly enough for him to hear but not to catch her attention. “I’m doing okay?”
“You’re doing great,” he replied. That was the only thing I needed to hear. And I knew it eased a lot for him, too. It took everything I had not to lean out the door and check on him. To see that relaxed smile on his face.
“I have another question!” Aria announced, pulling me once more out of my own thoughts. She sat upright fast in a mess of curls. Her serious little face sobered me quickly, and I raised my brows slightly out of curiosity. “Are you going to stay?”
I stilled, the lingering remnants of my amusement vanishing. This was the question. Harley had warned me about this line of thought and how much it mattered to Aria.
“Forever and a day,” I whispered, giving her the same promise I’d given Harley.
“Forever is a really long time,” Aria said.
“So is forever and a day,” I replied with a gentle smile. “I’m not going anywhere, Aria. You’re stuck with me, and your Daddy is stuck with me. Whatever you two need me for, I’m here. I promise.”
She studied me for a long moment, like she was trying to decide if my promise was real enough to trust. I couldn’t blame her. It was a big one for me to make.
And so I waited. I watched her think it over with the kind of seriousness only kids seemed capable of, her small face scrunched in concentration as she weighed my words. While she did, something settled deep in my chest—a realization that finally clicked into place.
Because for all the things Harley and I had said to each other over the last few days—for all the promises we’d made about getting things right this time—it finally hit me that this wasn’t just about the two of us anymore.
I wasn’t just choosing Harley.
I was choosing both of them. Choosing early mornings and school pickups. The endless questions and messy curls and the little traditions that made up their entire world. I was choosing to be someone Aria could count on, much the same way that I’d promised Harley I would be.
I was choosing to become a part of their family. And it should’ve scared the hell out of me. The responsibility. The weight of it. The sudden change of it all. But it didn’t.
Instead, it felt right.