PARIS
FOUR
“He’s hot as fuck, right?” Sydney says as Austin disappears into her father’s office, my stare glued to his ass like a complete pervert.
Her words jolt me back to reality, and I turn to her with guilt written all over my face.
I’m ready to refute her claim, although it would be a bold-faced lie, but thankfully, her boyfriend cuts in and saves me.
“Excuse me?” Steele barks, his mouth gaping as he looks at her with furrowed brows. “He’s what? You better take that back, or I’ll have to beat the old man up in front of your dad just to remind you who the fuck is in charge here.”
She rolls her eyes. “If you don’t want to hear the girl talk, maybe don’t follow me upstairs when I tell you a hundred times that I’m fine. I’m not going to get snatched up in an elevator, Steele. You did this to yourself.”
“You’re fucking brutal,” he mutters under his breath, kissing her chastely. “I’ll be back after practice. Don’t you dare leave this building without telling me, understood?”
She huffs an annoyed sigh. “Yes. Now, get out of here. You’re ten minutes late, Harlow.” With that, he’s gone, hauling ass toward the elevator and disappearing behind the heavy metal doors.
“Sorry about him,” she says, a sheepish smile playing at her lips. “I was sort of…kidnapped right before playoffs last season, which is why he’s so overprotective. He tries his best to let me do my own thing, but it’s still kind of fresh, so he’s a ball of nerves every time we leave the house.”
“Wow,” I reply, not sure how to respond. I don’t want to pry, especially since we just met, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.
“Anyway,” she goes on, waving her hand dismissively. “Enough about me. Tell me a little about yourself.”
Cue the internal cringe.
This has been my nightmare since the day I left Braxton.
Every time someone asks me to talk about myself, I have no clue what to say.
At first, I didn’t even know who I was. I went from being a teenage girl to a wife and mother overnight, never stepping outside the proverbial gates long enough to see if there was more to me than just those things.
After the kids and I got settled into our new place, I had the freedom I’d longed for, but was too scared to put myself out there and meet new people—which is exactly why I have zero friends, and spend my Saturday nights bleaching t-ball pants while eating leftover dino nuggets with a glass of wine.
“Not much to tell,” I answer with a shrug. “I’m recently divorced and have three kids between the ages of eight and fifteen months who keep me on my toes at all times. Other than that, I’m pretty boring.”
Her brows shoot up. “First of all, you look amazing for having three kids. And you’re telling me you have an eight-year-old? You look younger than me. Drop the skin care routine, please and thanks.”
I laugh. “I’m twenty-six, and my skin care routine consists solely of baby shampoo, since my children have a penchant for making potions in the tub with anything that looks even remotely expensive. I gave up on fancy soaps a long time ago.”
“Well, it’s working,” she replies. “You should join us for girls’ night at Bailey Kingsley’s house.
She’s married to our tight end, Jett, and she’s our aesthetician.
We hang out in her basement spa room at least twice a month, watching movies and getting facials while the guys go over game tape upstairs.
There’s usually alcohol involved, but our group has too many breastfeeding babies, so we’ve added sparkling water to the menu, in case you’re not a drinker. ”
“Oh,” I reply, unable to hold back my smile.
I lost every friend I had the moment I announced my first pregnancy, and not a single one of them ever looked back.
I can’t say I blame them, considering they were seventeen years old and more interested in parties and boys than whatever I had going on.
Who would want to give up their senior year adventures to watch movies at home with their girlfriend while she complained about heartburn and excessive hip pain?
So, to attend a get-together with other women—some of whom are mothers—sounds like a dream, even if it never actually goes beyond the invite.
“I’d have to see if I could line up a sitter.
Maybe my brother would come hang with the kids for a little while. ”
“We’re super flexible, too,” Sydney says. “We can always plan it on a night they’re with their dad…” She pauses, putting a cautious palm out between us. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know if he’s around. That was rude of me to assume.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s okay. He should be around, but unfortunately, he’s been keeping pretty busy since the divorce.” My expression twists. “And before the divorce, if I’m honest. He’s more of an I’ll mail you a check kind of guy.”
I feel a little weird talking poorly of my ex-husband to a complete stranger, but it’s not a lie.
Braxton hasn’t seen the kids in months, nor has he called or texted to see how they’re doing.
He’s supposed to have them every other weekend, but oddly enough, his business trips always coincide with those exact days.
Business trips. Yeah, right. He’s an accountant who works from home.
“Well,” she replies, “we’re not going to let that stop us. The kids can hang with us downstairs, or with the guys. They’re amazing with little ones, as long as you’re comfortable with it. Theo is basically just an overgrown child anyway. He’d probably have a lot in common with them.”
I laugh as a sarcastic smirk tugs at her lips, my heart swelling with how welcome I feel after only being here for about thirty minutes.
Between her and Austin, who seems so kind and helpful, I think I’m really going to enjoy being here.
I was worried that I wouldn’t fit in, since I’ve never worked anywhere besides in my own home, but if everyone here is as friendly as they are, I know I will.
“I’d really like that. My youngest, Lennon, is happy wherever.
She’s so easygoing. Rhys—he’s six—would be beside himself if he got the chance to hang out with any of the Renegades.
I’m not sure his older brother would feel the same, unfortunately.
Rowan is very protective over all of us, and doesn’t easily give his trust. He takes his man of the house role very seriously, even though I remind him regularly that he needs to enjoy his childhood. ”
“Loyal and protective, huh?” Sydney says, her lower lip pushing out pensively. “Rowan sounds like my kind of guy. I bet we’d get along really well.”
“He’s a tough one to crack.” I shrug. “But he’s the best kid in the world. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” she says, her smile growing. “Now, let’s get you clocked in, so I can show you around and introduce you to everyone. You’re going to love it here.”
And you know what? I think I already do.