Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
MATT
I sink back into the couch and take a sip of the craft IPA I picked up on the way home from Leo’s earlier. There’s a football game on, but I’m not really watching it. I’m restless. Losing my damn mind.
I went to Leo and Vivian’s for dinner, which was a good distraction.
Leo’s always good company. He was a therapist for years and still teaches psychology at the university one night a week.
He has a way of listening that makes you feel like you’ve said more than you actually have, and he never makes you feel dumb if you do.
Still. I’m restless.
I just tried calling Jordan. She didn’t answer.
My head’s filled with a bunch of shit I don’t really know what to do with. Normally, I’d go to the club or a bar and find someone to take my mind off things. That always works.
Always.
Now? There’s too much going on to even think about it. Something about it feels wrong anyway, looking to get laid while I’m trying to figure out how to get custody of Cole.
Christ. That’s new. When did the morality police suddenly show up?
I’ll have to sit with that one.
I bring the bottle back to my lips, condensation building on the cold glass.
My phone rings.
Jordan.
I pick up way too fast, like a guy with nothing better to do than wait for his ex-girlfriend to call him back. “Hey.”
“Hi. Sorry I missed you earlier. What’s going on? Any news yet?”
“Nah, nothing yet. But it’s only been a day.” I sigh. “I don’t expect to hear from anyone until Monday now that it’s the weekend. Still sucks. Was hoping for something today.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.” Her voice softens. “I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. I can’t imagine how you feel.”
I let out a low, disbelieving chuckle. “Yeah. I’m going crazy just sitting here.”
“Sitting where?”
“My couch.”
“Whoa. Look at you. Matthew Grayson sitting at home on a Friday night? Has hell frozen over?” I hear the smile in her voice. Then she adds, “Where’s your nightcap? And by nightcap, I mean your Friday-night hookup.”
“I know what you mean.” I shrug even though she can’t see me. “Don’t know. Didn’t feel like it.”
“What?” She laughs. Who are you?”
“Christ. Don’t start. I’m not always looking to hook up on a Friday night.”
“It’s this one right here,” she says—not to me. “Thank you. Have a good night.”
Muffled sounds. A door shuts. Street noise. Cab ride.
“Speaking of nightcaps…” I say casually. “Where are you coming home from? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
That voice. She only uses it like ammo—and it works. Every goddamn time.
“I do. That’s why I asked.”
“I had a date. You know, with the nephew of my mamá’s friend.”
“Oh. Right.” My pulse climbs—just a notch, but enough to notice. “Didn’t go well? It’s only nine-fifty…”
“It was going well. I really liked him, but… I don’t know. My head just wasn’t in it, you know? I kept thinking about Cole… and you, and what’s going to happen to him. And then you called…” She trails off.
My chest cinches tight, warmth rushing through my blood. “You ended the date to call me?” My pulse climbs another notch.
“No. He did.” A laugh bursts through the phone. “I was that distracted. He said we could try another time. So we left. He helped me get a cab. Kissed me goodnight. He was cute, too, so you know. Totally my type. I basically gave up my one opportunity to have sex in months to call and check on you.”
I chuckle, hating how much I care that he kissed her tonight.
Is it him? Or do I hate the idea of anyone touching her?
Or am I just lonely, horny, and suddenly developing a conscience about my weekend activities?
Fuck, I don’t know. But it’s annoying as hell.
“What are you talking about?” I say lightly. “I give you the opportunity to have sex every Tuesday.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. I meant sex with someone who isn’t you.”
I shake my head. “You haven’t had sex in months? Why?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly been dating,” she says dryly. “I was engaged a few months ago, remember? I’m still mourning my loss.”
I bark out a laugh. “You are not in mourning. Shit—come on. You haven’t had sex since Richard?” I pause. “Jesus. How’s your wrist holding up?”
“Fuck off!” She laughs, and it instantly cuts through my mood, lightening something heavy in my chest.
“Seriously, babe,” I say. “I’ve been here this whole time. I’m willing and able to deliver some top-notch orgasms. You just say the word.”
“Oh, God.” I can practically hear her roll her eyes. “I’m hanging up now. Text me if you hear anything?”
“I will.”
“Night, Matt.”
“Night, babe.”
Five Days Later
I rub my sweating palms against my suit pants, stealing a glance out the large windows overlooking the city skyline.
My attorney, Jerry, jots down some notes, going back and forth between his laptop and legal pad.
He’s been great, calm and thorough. Keith really did me a solid finding someone last minute.
So far, so good.
We’ve gone over a lot. And I mean a lot.
My work. My finances. The other family members Cole knows, Jensen’s family, Jordan.
My role as godfather. What my relationship with Cole actually looks like.
Jerry’s explained every piece of legal jargon to me like I’m five because I asked him to.
I don’t know shit about this stuff, and I’m not about to pretend I do.
Thirty minutes of legal language and deeply personal bullshit later and my head’s spinning.
Jerry finally looks up from his screen. “This is good,” he says. “You’ve got strong emotional ties, financial stability, a clear relationship history with both Cole and his father, a clean background. This is all excellent.” He pauses. “But… there are some concerns.”
Nerves spread through my chest.
Fucking anxiety again? Jesus. I’m really not used to feeling this way.
“What are the concerns? I’m the perfect candidate on paper so far.”
“I’m going to be very blunt with you,” Jerry says. “You have a very good case for permanent guardianship. But temporary guardianship will likely go to Cole’s grandmother. She’s a blood relative. She lives close to where Cole has grown up. She’s financially stable.”
“But I’m all those things too,” I argue quickly. “My condo’s only twenty minutes from his school. I can stay here until the school year’s over.”
He nods. “She’s also married. Judges tend to favor a two-person household. It’s going to be difficult to prove you’d be the better option. You’re single, you travel frequently, and you don’t live in-state full time. Those three things alone will give the judge pause.”
Shit.
Panic shoots straight through my core, my pulse spiking hard.
I’m single.
Right. As in—not married.
Jerry continues, unfazed by the fact that my chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. “Have you thought about what your day-to-day would look like as Cole’s guardian? Who takes him to school? Who helps him with homework? Who watches him when you’re away on business?”
I go stiff.
Fucking fuck. I didn’t think about any of that. I only thought about getting him out of Cece’s house. About not losing him.
Not the logistics. Not the details. Not the reality.
“Cece’s attorney has already flagged concerns about stability. Your travel schedule. Your public image. The nightclub. Past media coverage.” He takes a sip of his water. “They’ll argue it reflects an inconsistent lifestyle.”
My blood heats instantly.
So basically, I’m a liability because I’m single and successful. Makes perfect fucking sense.
Christ. I thought I was sitting pretty. I’m the one who has history with Cole, a relationship. I’ve got money, resources, a great place to live—hell, I’ve got multiple places to live. Plus, Cole and I have fun together. We laugh. We get along. I show up. I’ve always shown up.
But it’s becoming painfully clear my case isn’t as bulletproof as I thought it was. Not when it’s stacked up against Cece’s.
I draw in a slow breath. Don’t panic. I’m used to high stakes, pressure, coming up with solutions at the last minute. I’ve built my entire career by thinking fast and outside the box.
Think, Matt. Think.
I’m not losing this because of who I am. I won’t apologize for working my ass off or enjoying what I’ve earned. For being a straight, single man who lets loose on the weekends. Honestly, if anyone else were in my shoes, they’d be doing the exact same damn thing.
It doesn’t mean I’m not a good person or that I can’t be a good father to Cole. Maybe I didn’t have one as an example, but I sure as shit know what not to do.
Cole wants to be with me. Nate would’ve wanted this. And selfishly, for reasons I can’t fucking explain, I want it too.
But now there’s all this invisible red tape, all these bullshit rules, and no matter how many advantages I have, none of it matters. I don’t have the winning ticket.
And the winning ticket is being married. Especially because I’m a man. Might as well bend over right now.
I exhale hard through my nose, dragging a hand over my mouth.
A thought pops into my head, and it’s fucking insane. So unhinged that I almost laugh it off.
But I don’t.
Instead, I drum my fingers against the table and say, “What if… what if I were to get married? Would that help?”
“Potentially, yes. A stable two-adult household carries weight.” Jerry steeples his fingers, studying me. “But I need clarity, Matt. Are you saying you’re engaged, or that you intend to be?”
“I am.” Lie. “Well… we’ve been talking about it. I was planning to propose to my girlfriend next month, but if I ask her sooner, and we get married at the courthouse, do the bigger ceremony later… Would that strengthen my case?”
“It would help,” he says carefully, glancing down at his notes. His brows pull together. “Remind me your girlfriend’s name?”
Shit. Here goes nothing.
“Jordan Demetriou. I mentioned her earlier. She’s one of the people I listed as practically family. Cole’s known her his whole life, and we basically live together. She just hasn’t officially moved in yet.” I hold up my hand and wiggle my fingers, adding, “Not until it’s official.”
Jerry hesitates, letting my words soak in.
I can’t tell if he believes me or if he’s quietly calling bullshit.
He remains professionally neutral and says, “If the relationship is legitimate, it absolutely strengthens your case. But I can’t represent anything to the court that isn’t true.
What I can say is that you are in the process of establishing a two-adult household.
That’s acceptable, as long as you follow through.
” He leans back slightly. “But Matt, until there’s a marriage license, I can’t file anything that states you’re married or engaged. ”
Well…
Fuck.