Chapter Twenty-Seven
DYLAN
A day later, I woke up to the chime of the doorbell. I dragged myself to the door, still half-asleep. Mama was already in the kitchen, making herself and Marty sandwiches ahead of her scheduled flight back home later that morning. I tossed the door open, expecting a package or a neighbor in need of a cup of sugar, only to find a delivery guy holding a peculiar bouquet.
“Dylan Casablancas?”
“Unfortunately,” I groaned. Damn hangover.
“Can you please sign here?” He handed me a small touchscreen device.
I did, accepting the bouquet from him. There weren’t flowers in it but arranged pieces of what looked like newspaper.
“Who is it?” Mama called from the kitchen.
“Oh, just one of those artistic bouquets…” My fingers searched for the card attached to it, finally finding it nestled between the curled shreds of paper.
Good moaning, Cosmos.
Hope you had a great night. I’ll see you very soon.
—Rhyland’s cock.
I stifled a snort, taking another look at the bouquet to see what was printed on those pieces of paper. There were lots of them. The first thing I noticed was that they were all the same. Meaning it was the same page printed over and over again. I walked over to the kitchen counter, pulling pieces of it out to try to put together one full page, like a jigsaw.
When I realized what it was, a laugh escaped me.
It was his clean health bill sheet to show he didn’t have any STIs. This was his stab at romance.
“Why are you laughing?” My mother turned to look at me, confused.
I immediately grabbed the bouquet, shoving the papers back into it. “Nothing. Rhyland is just being…Rhyland, I suppose.”
“That boy always had a thing for you.” Mama snorted distractedly, returning her attention to the bologna and mayo she was slamming onto pieces of bread.
I took a shower, got dressed, and said goodbye to Mama and Marty. Grav cried when they left, which made me feel shitty. What made me feel even shittier was the knowledge that Tucker was finally coming over at ten in the morning to meet Gravity for the first time. Suffocating panic clogged my throat. I was going to be there the whole time, but I was still uneasy about this entire thing.
“Mommy, when is our new friend coming?” Gravity trotted to the kitchen, clutching Mr. Mushroom close to her chest.
I’d told her Tucker was a friend from Staindrop who’d been traveling the world for the past few years and wanted to meet her. I wasn’t going to tell her he was her dad until he proved to be a balanced and reliable individual.
I checked the clock on the wall. “Oh, in ten minutes, actually. I’ll fix you a snack beforehand. Apples and peanut butter?”
“Yes, please.” Gravity hoisted herself onto the couch, grabbing her iPad and flipping through the pictures on it, grinning.
“What are you looking at?” I started slicing an apple for her.
“Uncle Rhyrand and I drew faces on my toenails and made a TV show about them. They are all different characters.”
I snorted. I should probably be more worried about how completely and thoroughly this man was now woven into my life, but he was the only good thing that had happened to me in a really long time.
I handed Grav her apples and peanut butter and checked my phone, hoping to find a message from Tucker announcing he wasn’t going to come over after all or from Rhyland saying…well, anything at all.
But all I found was one message from Cal.
Cal: I’m not crazy, right? There’s something going on between you and Rhy. I could feel it sizzling between you two.
I bit down on my lower lip, suppressing a smile. I felt bad for not confiding in her about my enemies-with-benefits situation with Rhyland, especially considering she’d been extremely transparent about her love story with Row when they started dating. But I knew she’d never keep a secret from Row, and Row would kill Rhy if he found out. For once, I wanted something just for myself. My thumbs flew over the screen.
Dylan: Nope. Being a mess is our entire personality. Of course we’re being cheeky with each other. But there’s nothing going on.
Cal: Okay…
The doorbell rang. Tucker. I opened the door with a ten-ton anchor in my stomach, dread coursing through my veins. He was dressed as though this were a date, in a crisp white button-down shirt and smart navy pants. His hair was slicked back, and he was holding flowers and chocolate.
“Hey, babe.” He smirked.
My nose tingled like I’d smelled something foul.
“Hey,” I said dispassionately, taking the flowers and the heart-shaped chocolate box without so much as thank you. It would have been nicer if he’d brought something for Grav.
Meanwhile, my little girl bolted from the couch, wedging herself between my legs to peer at Tucker with a naughty grin.
“Hi, Uncle Tucker. I heard you’re Mommy’s friend.” She flashed him her tiny white teeth.
I drank in his reaction as he took her in. The cold, unaffected way he scanned her face, almost like he was searching for imperfections, before his mouth settled into a grim smile.
“Hi. You must be Gravity.”
“I am!”
He extended a hand to her. “Tucker. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Awkward silence blanketed us. He was still on the threshold, and honestly, I wasn’t eager for him to come inside.
“I was thinking maybe we could all go to the zoo today,” I said finally. “The weather is amazing, and Grav and I have been meaning to check out Central Park Zoo. There’s a cheetah exhibit. Grav loves cheetahs.”
“They’re my favorite!” Grav clapped, delighted. “Uncle Tucker, did you know that cheetahs don’t roar? They meow! Like kitties!” She curled her chubby fingers into claws.
“Hmm.” Tucker looked between us distractedly, smoothing out his fancy shirt. “Kinda hot outside, no? Wasn’t planning on getting sweaty.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. We were not getting off to a good start. “Your shirt’ll survive,” I said dryly. “I’ll grab my bag and her sippy cup. Stay here.”
Things got progressively worse when I parked Jimmy outside the zoo and we entered. Tucker complained as if he were the toddler, not Gravity. About the heat, the long line for the tickets, the stroller we rented for Gravity that had one wonky wheel. After seeing the cheetah exhibit and feeding birds in small cups, we stopped for lunch. Gravity accidentally squirted ketchup on his shirt trying to squeeze it onto her fries, and he nearly yelled at her. He kept trying to strike up conversation with me, not her, and I wondered if I was being harsh with him, since he literally had no experience with kids, or if he was just being a straight-up unredeemable asshole.
“So your brother… Doesn’t he want to expand his businesses here in New York?” Tucker asked while I watched the minutes tick by on my phone, praying for salvation.
“I don’t know,” I answered tersely. “I don’t talk shop with him.”
“But what if I sent him a business propos—”
“Uncle Tucker, do you think dolphins can brea—”
“I’m talking, Gravity,” he snapped.
His tone slapped the spirit out of her, and I watched her recoil. My blood zinged through my veins. In that moment, I knew I was capable of physically assaulting him for how he was treating my daughter.
Tucker turned back to me on the bench where we’d taken our lunch. “I was saying, if I were to send him a propo—”
“If you were to send him a proposal,” I started taciturnly, my voice frighteningly cold, “he’d use it to wipe his ass. Like me—and like Rhyland, Cal, and anyone who ever got to know you—he loathes you. Let me be clear once again about what this is. It’s about the one mutual thing we have in common.” I didn’t dare utter her name. As it was, she was busy using a fry to draw something in the mountain of ketchup on her tray. “You’ll get nothing else from it other than a relationship with that person. I don’t want you. Row doesn’t want to work with you. It is solely about her.”
Tucker’s face clouded with rage. I could tell his pride had taken a hit, and even though I didn’t particularly care, that same uneasiness, the sense of danger looming in the air, washed over me.
“Understood,” he clipped out. “How about we take it back to your place? I don’t think I’m the best version of myself when I’m overheated.”
What was he—a fucking sponge cake? Nonetheless, I happened to notice Grav’s cheeks were flushed under her sunscreen too, and it was almost time for her afternoon nap.
“You can’t stay more than half an hour,” I warned. “It’s almost her naptime.”
“Fine.”
We loaded ourselves into Jimmy and made our way back to the apartment. I was a ball of anxiety when I opened the door and invited him in. It felt too much like letting the devil into my den. For his part, Tucker tried to ask Gravity about her toys and stuffies. He shot me a disapproving glance when she introduced Mr. Mushroom to him. I watched them hawkishly, every muscle in my body ready to pounce in case he made a wrong move.
Tucker was on the carpet next to Gravity, doing a puzzle with her, when he shot his head up to eye me. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Fiancé,” I corrected. “And at work.”
“Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend!” Gravity announced, leaning on her palms to grab a faraway piece of her My Little Pony puzzle. “She says boys are bad. But she lets Uncle Rhyrand babysit me, because he is okay for a fuckboy.” Pause. “What’s a fuckboy, Mommy?”
Oh. My. God.
Gravity had obviously been doing some intense eavesdropping on my conversations with Cal and Kieran when I thought she was asleep. It was time to reevaluate her naps altogether.
“I said fun boy.” I cleared my throat. “Rhyland is a fun boy. Because he likes to do fun things, right?”
“He is!”
Tucker twisted his entire body toward me, lifting his right eyebrow. “You’re not really engaged,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Of course I am,” I snapped. “She doesn—”
“My parents sniffed around with their old Staindrop friends.” He cut me off. “Your mom had no idea what they were talking about. She said you and Rhyland are just neighbors. I can’t believe she was right.”
I clamped my mouth shut. I really didn’t want Tucker to sit on this kind of ammo against me. “The engagement is…complicated,” I said vaguely. “But we are dating for real. We just haven’t said anything yet, because my brother would kill us.”
This wasn’t technically a lie.
Tucker stood up from the carpet, seemingly forgetting he was in the middle of bonding with his child, and walked over to me. I got up on my feet, refusing to cower in front of him.
“I knew it wasn’t over.” He flashed me a chilling smile, moving his hand to touch my face.
My hand shot out to block him, every instinct telling me to push him away, when I heard a key turning in my door, and it was flung open.
“Honey, I’m home.”