Casey
N oah’s silky tuft of hair tickles my fingers as I brush them over his head and inhale his sweet baby smell. His dark lashes flutter against his soft cheeks as he sleeps with peaceful dreams sucking his thumb. I whisper my love to my baby brother before stepping away from his crib and leaving the room.
My heart always feels tighter and lighter at the same time after spending time with him. He’s so sweet and innocent with no expectations of anyone while loving unconditionally, yet I worry. I hope Mom will be better with him and fear she will not. Of course, if she goes to prison, which is extremely likely, the question will be who will care for him in her absence. I will if I must. For him, I will do anything. But I’m only too aware I’m not in any shape emotionally, mentally, or financially to care for an infant.
My steps are light as I make my way through the hallway to the spiral staircase. When we first moved here, it was beautiful wrought iron with gorgeous and intricate designs. I remember thinking it looked like something from a castle—from a fairy tale. Mom hated it and so now it’s solid white stairs with glass railing. If it were in a modern penthouse, it might be pretty, but in this amazing house that was built over one hundred years ago, it just feels wrong. I know Graham hates it. I remember him saying it many times when I was a kid, although it was always under his breath, so I probably wasn’t meant to hear it.
The last time I was here it was to see Maxwell. Of course, I found Graham instead, and that was the start of whatever this is with us. Or at least I thought it was. The last few days, I wonder if what he keeps saying is true. Has he really wanted me all this time? The problem is, even if he has, I still can’t shake the feeling that he wants me simply because he shouldn’t.
I shake those thoughts loose as I approach Maxwell’s office and tap my knuckles against the heavy, black-painted oak. When his deep timbre beckons me inside, I push the door, suddenly feeling anxious. Maxwell sits behind his glass and gold-trimmed desk with a smile, but it’s the man sitting—uncomfortably—in the gold and electric blue flower-shaped chair across from him that makes my pounding heart beat double time.
It would be very helpful if he wouldn’t look at me like that with his dad in the room. Jesus, did someone turn on the heat?
“I-I can come back later if I’m interrupting.” I’m already backing toward the door as I say it. Graham’s dark gaze sears into mine, and I stumble. “I-in fact, I think I’ll do just that,” I say, bumping into the still partially open door, shooting pain through my elbow. “I’ll just grab a cab and go home.”
“Don’t even think about it.” The deep command freezes me mid-turn, and I look over my shoulder. The warning in his eyes is a promise, not a threat, and I swallow hard, pressing my lips together. My attention shifts to Maxwell because, as easy as it is to get lost in Graham’s eyes, I can’t forget Maxwell is in the room. Relief washes through me that he doesn’t seem to notice anything, but I’m still reluctant as I walk across the black and gold floor because as hard as I try, I cannot hide the crimson burning my cheeks.
“It’s good to see you, Case. I’ve missed having you around,” Maxwell says.
Well, that’s one way to momentarily redirect my thoughts. My eyes snap to the floor as I fold my hands in front of me and remain standing a few feet away from them. Guilt turns my stomach, making me nauseous. Maxwell understands why I don’t come around. After everything with my mom last year, he even apologized for his part in keeping Dad and me apart. But none of that eases my conscience about not seeing him recently. It’s not his fault.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I answer uneasily. “But um…” I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and meet his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about my lease.”
“Fuck me,” Graham grumbles, and I toss him a scathing glare.
“What about your lease, Case?” Maxwell asks.
“Well, it runs out in a couple of months. Since Lily isn’t with me anymore, I don’t need that much space.”
Maxwell tilts his head. “So you want to get a smaller apartment?”
“Yes, but… Well, on my own.” When he only stares at me with thin pressed lips, I ramble. “So you don’t need to worry about me. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I’m an adult now. I need to take care of myself. Besides, it was never your job, and—”
“For fuck’s sake, , you are not moving,” Graham barks as he stands abruptly from his chair. “Especially not to some slumlord complex with five pervy roommates you don’t even know. You’re staying where you are. End. Of. Story.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, Graham,” I snap. “And you can’t volunteer your dad to continue to support me.” I offer Maxwell an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate all you’ve done. I just think it’s time I take care of myself.”
Graham eliminates the few feet separating us and grips my face. “You. Are. Not. Moving.”
Maxwell clears his throat, but I’m caught between Graham’s fingers, and he doesn’t turn his attention away from me. “I think it’s time you come clean, son,” he says, his voice laced with humor. I want to look at him, to see if I’m imagining things, and ask what he means, but Graham is not backing off.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, knowing how this probably looks.
Dark chocolate eyes bounce between mine, flaming with anger and what I now recognize as desire. I swallow hard, trying and failing to repress the shudder that rips through me. “Graham?” My voice quakes when he just continues to stare at me, and for the love of me, I can’t tell if he wants to strangle me or kiss me.
Please, don’t kiss me in front of Maxwell.
His jaw works back and forth for a moment as he drops his hands, shoving his hands into his pockets and stepping back. My lungs expand from the breath I held, waiting to see what he would do. But I’m not nearly as relieved as I thought I would be.
His cheeks puff as he blows out a breath, his head falling back. “Dad never paid for your lease, Sunflower. He hasn’t paid for anything for you since before you graduated high school. I did.”
“What? Why?”
“To make sure you were taken care of. Why else?”
“, it’s not that I didn’t want to,” Maxwell says as he walks from behind his desk. “I couldn’t.” He leans against the edge of his desk, dragging his hand over his jaw as he lets out a weary sigh. “, if it weren’t for Graham stepping in, I would’ve lost everything.”
“H-how?” But I know the answer, and I hate it. More guilt, even though this doesn’t belong to me, eats away. God, Mom why do you do these things? I look at Graham, my mind spinning a million miles an hour. “What else did you pay for?” I know the answer to that, too. It’s so obvious now, but I naively, readily accepted Maxwell set aside the money Dad paid all those years.
“ Everything , Sunflower.”
The walls feel like they’re closing in. My lungs burn and my heart races. My skin feels too tight.
Needing to get out of there, I spin and race out of the room as tears stream down my face, even though I have no idea why I’m crying or running. The urge is just consuming me.
Strong hands grip my arms when I’m only a few feet into the hallway, pulling me to his chest. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Case.”
My fingers dig into the t-shirt he’s changed into since we arrived. “I thought you forgot about me,” I sniff as it hits me hard that not only did he not forget me, but he continued to take care of me just as he always had.
Was it obligation? Or…
His lips press against my hair as he chuckles. “I already told you, baby, I didn’t. Even if you hadn’t scrambled my brain with that sweet kiss, you’d still be unforgettable.” He pulls me back a bit, tilting my chin up, his eyes dancing with a grin. “And you know what else? I’d bet my last damn dollar, even if you hadn’t kissed me, we’d still end up right here.” His lips drop to mine, soft and warm, melting me where I stand. His tongue teases, coaxing me to open. Unwilling and unable to deny him, my arms loop around his neck as my lips part. He delves into my mouth, stroking his tongue against mine, the taste of scotch and mint lingering on his lips.
A throat clearing makes me jump away. My face turns the color of cherries as I swipe my hand over my mouth and look anywhere but at my stepfather who’s standing only a few feet from us. Sweat beads at my neck as panic fills me. I wait for the sounds of disappointment. For the indignation of what he just witnessed. My palms become sticky, and my ears ring. I close my eyes, praying for it to go away. I try to focus my thoughts on my breathing, on the slowing of my heart. Focus on things I can hear, see, or smell. The problem with that is what I can see and hear are what is causing the panic to escalate.
An arm loops around my waist. Rough hands grip my face. Words whispered, calming, low, and firm, command me to breathe.
I thought I was breathing, just too fast.
I blink through the haze clouding my vision and focus on the steady, solid presence, an anchor tethering me through the storm of my mind. He grips my hand, bringing it to his chest, and I feel the steady beat beneath my palm. My rapid heartbeat slows, and my lungs cease to burn. His fingers grip the base of my neck, holding me steady—his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re okay.” It’s a statement, not a question, he whispers as he presses his lips to my forehead.
I shake my head because I’m not. I am just better than I was a minute ago. “He saw us.”
Hot breath fans across my face as his body vibrates. I look up to see him grinning. “Yeah, baby, he saw us.”
“He’s still standing here, too.” I go rigid from Maxwell’s voice, but is that… I chance a look at Maxwell. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed. He looks a little concerned and a lot amused.
“Y-your not upset or angry?”
His face split in two as he reaches for my hand, pulling me from Graham. He hugs me for a second, then kisses my cheek before returning me to his son. “Sweetheart, I figured out long ago when he bought an entire apartment building that he’d developed deeper feelings for you. As long as he’s good to you, then I could never be angry about something that makes you happy. If the world doesn’t like it, well that’s their problem, right?”
I wish it were that easy. For someone like Maxwell, I suppose it is. But for me… Too many things still cloud my mind. My dad especially.
Then my hands fly to my mouth as I realize what he just said. I look at Graham, my brows practically reaching my hairline. “You bought the building?” I squeak.
He shrugs, and for the first time in ten years, I swear I see Graham Davis blush. “It was the only way to make sure it was in the budget you and Lily had.”
“How did you know my…” my eyes dart to Maxwell. “You told him.” First Jagger and now Maxwell. How many other people has he had watching me—keeping him in the loop about my life? “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He waves off the question and tugs me toward the stairs. “It doesn’t matter. What do you say we get out of here?”
I nod, tell Maxwell goodbye, and let him lead me out with a head full of questions but my heart… It’s beating hard and steady for the man I’ve tried to convince myself I don’t love.
But it’s getting harder and harder to deny the truth.