CHAPTER 1
If Cinderella’s slipper fit perfectly, why did it fall off in the first place?
~Text from Kinsley to Saxon
Kinsley
I’m so glad I have only a few months left of school. I’m so done with this whole college scene it’s not even funny. Looking back, maybe I should have decided to do my graduate work part-time while I worked, but no, I had to plow through it all at once, taking summer classes every year.
Did anyone push me to do this, you ask? Nope.
My mom wanted me to go to college, but other than that, she didn’t push me to go this hard or this far.
My dad? He just wants me to do what makes me happy.
He never pushed me to be a straight-A student, but he’s always supported me.
He told me there were only two things that he ever wanted for me and my brothers.
One being that we have love in our lives—love of friends, family, and people who make our lives richer by being in them. The other being to never stop learning.
Now, if you know my dad, you would know he doesn’t mean school. He’s always said the world is the best teacher. He taught us to learn from the people around us, from music, art, and books. To always be open to learning more.
My dad’s not what most people think of when someone talks about their dad.
He’s a tattoo artist, a member of an MC, and has openly dated women and men.
He’s not afraid to be himself, and I think that’s one of the things I admire most about him.
That and the fact that he’s kept his sanity after dealing with my brothers all these years.
They could make you pull out your hair on a good day.
On a bad day, they could make you drink a couple of bottles of whiskey.
My mom and dad weren’t ever really a couple.
They were dating casually when she discovered she was pregnant with me.
I have no memory of them ever living together or anything like that, but they’ve always been friendly with each other.
I know Dad would’ve loved to have me live with him all the time, but he was never mean to Mom about anything.
My mom, well, she’s a character. She’s a good mom, but I think we’re just different people.
Once I was off to college, she decided her parenting duties were done and she was off traveling the world.
I haven’t seen her in over a year, but we talk a couple of times a month.
My mom has always been a free spirit. I know without a doubt that she loves me, but I think having me wasn’t part of her life plan.
My brothers lived with my dad full time, but that’s because their mom…
well, I don’t have anything nice to say about her, so I’ll just say that she took off and rarely ever came back.
Samson and Saxon may drive me nuts, but a girl couldn’t ask for better big brothers.
They’re always there if I need someone to talk to, though I have a feeling they’re never gonna be okay with any guy I bring around.
Not that I’ve ever brought a guy around before.
Have I dated before? Yep. Have I had sex before?
Yep. A lot of either? Well, no, but I’m not a virgin either.
I can’t help it. I’m not usually attracted to the guys in my classes.
For one, they tend to be all about school, or they look like I would squash them with one thigh.
I’ve never been a small girl, and I’ve long accepted that my hips are here to stay.
I’ve seen pictures of Dad’s sister and mom, and it seems that I come by these hips genetically.
My mom, however, is model thin and almost six feet tall.
I’m almost five-eight and, well, I definitely don’t look like a model.
Ma always said I have childbearing hips like her.
I’ll just say I’ve got plenty of junk in the trunk.
It does come in handy when I slip and fall on the ice every winter.
Did I mention I have like no grace at all?
High heels and I are not friends. I’m barely able to manage my boots, which have a small heel on them.
Back to my current situation. I’m supposed to go out this weekend with some people from class.
Do I really want to go out with them? Not really.
I mean, they’re perfectly…nice, but I feel like I always have to watch my manners with them and be on with them.
They tend to have two different reactions when they find out about my family, especially my dad and what he does.
They either judge and don’t really want to interact with me anymore, or they look him up and want me to get them in to get a tattoo from him.
There were a couple of girls last year who wanted to know if he was single.
Eww. I am not setting my dad up with someone my age.
Just no. The one young guy he dated briefly was quite enough.
Back to my current problem. I know I could use the excuse of needing to study, but then I think Ethan would try to invite himself over, and I just can’t handle that.
He’s nice enough, but there’s just no spark there, no matter how many times he asks and tries to convince me to give him another chance.
We dated for a little while, and the one time we tried…
Well, let’s just say when he made the comment about thinking the vagina and clitoris were the same thing, I knew I was in for an evening of disappointment.
A blind man could have given him directions, and he would’ve been at least in the right hemisphere. I mean, it reminded me of when someone described having a one-night stand sober. They just never turn out to be that much fun.
My phone dings with an incoming message. I grab it off my desk and see it’s from Hanna. I’m surprised it’s a text and not a voice message. She’s been sending those more and more as her eyesight continues to deteriorate.
Hanna: Hey, girl. Wanna escape and come back home for the weekend?
Christy and Mary want to go out for a girls’ night since they’ve never really done that.
Thought you might wanna get to know them a bit, especially since they’re our age, and you know that’s fucking rare with our family.
I’m typing instead of talking because Mayson is sitting right here and being a nosy ass.
I can’t help but laugh at her talking about Mayson that way. She ain’t wrong. He can be a nosy ass, even if he’s a good guy.
Hell, that summer when we were like twelve and went out, he was that way.
I remember when Samson caught us kissing out behind the clubhouse, and Mayson was willing to stand up to him for me.
Samson threatened to tell our dads, and that pretty much ended our summer fling.
Of course, I’m not sure you can even call it a fling when we only kissed three or four times.
It was the same summer that Jeremiah and Hanna tried going out, and it ended the same way. Older brothers killed our fun.
Back to her text. I swear I need to quit going off on these tangents. No wonder it takes me forever and a day to make decisions.
Me: Hell yes. I was trying to figure out a way to get out of going to dinner with some classmates who just…well, they’re just not you guys. I’m so ready to move home, it’s not even funny. Are we going out tonight or tomorrow?
Hanna: Let’s go out tomorrow night. Tonight, let’s do dinner with Shandy and Brandy since they’re not twenty-one yet. They can’t go to the bar tomorrow night with us. What do you say?
Me: Sounds good. I’m grabbing some clothes and heading that way in like thirty. I’m gonna see my dad before dinner.
Hanna: Sounds good. Need to catch you up on all the gossip. Got lots to talk about.
Me: Can’t wait. I’ll let you know when I’m in town.
Hanna: You better, wench.
Me: Whatever, shrew.
I sent a text off to one of the girls in the group who is going out to let them know I have to head home this weekend after all. I don’t say why, and when she texts back, she doesn’t ask. That tells me all I need to know about things.
**********
A couple of hours later, I’m pulling into my dad’s driveway.
I love coming home. I know I technically only lived here on weekends and in the summer, but no place has ever felt like home like Dad’s has.
Mom and I lived in the same place most of my life, but it never felt like this place did.
This is the place I always knew I could get a hug from my dad just when I needed it most.
This is the only place I’ve ever felt seen—for myself and who I am—the book nerd who loves to read biographies and watch documentaries as much as I love to read romance and watch romantic comedies.
The same person who loves all sour candy and can’t ever eat enough carrots.
The one who’s never been in love. The one who loves old traditional country music as much as hard rock.
This has been the only place I’ve ever felt like whoever I am is fine and my family loves me for me.
I know my dad hasn’t changed my room, so he can’t mind me coming home as often as I have this year.
I get out of the car and walk to the back door, open it, and call out, “Dad! You home?” I hear his music playing, so I know he’s home.
I walk through the kitchen and start through the dining room when Dad comes out of the living room.
“Kins? I wasn’t expecting you. Everything okay?
” He opens his arms, and I walk right into them, needing a hug.
“Yeah, everything is fine. I came to hang out with Hanna and some of the girls this weekend, but I wanted to come see you first. That okay?”